Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Horace's Nil Admirari and Jonson's First Folio Mock

  Soul of the age!
The applause ! delight ! the wonder of our stage!

Shakespeare's Admirable/Wonderful Style was for Jonson 'the making of monsters'.


Jonson's 1616 Folio and his play _The Alchemist_ bore an epigraph adapted from Horace:
"Neque, me ut miretur turba, laboro: / Contentus paucis lectoribus"
- " I do not expend my efforts so that the multitude may wonder at me: I am contented with a few readers" 

 nil admirari - to wonder at nothing

nil admirari: To be astonished at nothing
nil admirari: To be astonished at nothing
Horace, Epistles

VI. To Numicius.

Nil Admirari.

Not to admire, Numicius, is the best,
The only way, to make and keep men blest.
The sun, the stars, the seasons of the year
That come and go, some gaze at without fear:
What think you of the gifts of earth and sea,
The untold wealth of Ind or Araby,
Or, to come nearer home, our games and shows,
The plaudits and the honours Rome bestows?
How should we view them? ought they to convulse
The well-strung frame and agitate the pulse?
Who fears the contrary, or who desires
The things themselves, in either case admires;
Each way there's flutter; something unforeseen
Disturbs the mind that else had been serene.
Joy, grief, desire or fear, whate'er the name
The passion bears, its influence is the same;
Where things exceed your hope or fall below,
You stare, look blank, grow numb from top to toe.
E'en virtue's self, if followed to excess,
Turns right to wrong, good sense to foolishness.
Go now, my friend, drink in with all your eyes
Bronze, silver, marble, gems, and Tyrian dyes,
Feel pride when speaking in the sight of Rome,
Go early out to 'Change and late come home,
For fear your income drop beneath the rate
That comes to Mutus from his wife's estate,
And (shame and scandal!), though his line is new,
You give the pas to him, not he to you.
Whate'er is buried mounts at last to light,
While things get hid in turn that once looked bright.
So when Agrippa's mall and Appius' way
Have watched your well-known figure day by day,
At length the summons comes, and you must go
To Numa and to Ancus down below.
Your side's in pain; a doctor hits the blot:
You wish to live aright (and who does not?);
If virtue holds the secret, don't defer;
Be off with pleasure, and be on with her.
But no; you think all morals sophists' tricks,
Bring virtue down to words, a grove to sticks;
Then hey for wealth! quick, quick, forestall the trade
With Phrygia and the East, your fortune's made.
One thousand talents here -- one thousand there --
A third -- a fourth, to make the thing four-square.
A dowried wife, friends, beauty, birth, fair fame,
These are the gifts of money, heavenly dame:
Be but a moneyed man, persuasion tips
Your tongue, and Venus settles on your lips.
The Cappadocian king has slaves enow,
But gold he lacks: so be it not with you.
Lucullus was requested once, they say,
A hundred scarves to furnish for the play:
"A hundred!" he replied, "'tis monstrous; still
I'll look; and send you what I have, I will."
Ere long he writes: "Five thousand scarves I find;
Take part of them, or all if you're inclined."
That's a poor house where there's not much to spare
Which masters never miss and servants wear.
So, if 'tis wealth that makes and keeps us blest,
Be first to start and last to drop the quest.
If power and mob-applause be man's chief aims,
Let's hire a slave to tell us people's names,

To jog us on the side, and make us reach,
At risk of tumbling down, a hand to each:
"This rules the Fabian, that the Veline clan;
Just as he likes, he seats or ousts his man:"
Observe their ages, have your greeting pat,
And duly "brother" this, and "father" that.
Say that the art to live's the art to sup,
Go fishing, hunting, soon as sunlight's up,
As did Gargilius, who at break of day
Swept with his nets and spears the crowded way,
Then, while all Rome looked on in wonder, brought
Home on a single mule a boar he'd bought.
Thence pass on to the bath-room, gorged and crude,
Our stomachs stretched with undigested food,
Lost to all self-respect, all sense of shame,
Disfranchised freemen, Romans but in name,
Like to Ulysses' crew, that worthless band,
Who cared for pleasure more than fatherland.

If, as Mimnermus tells you, life is flat
With nought to love, devote yourself to that.

Farewell: if you can mend these precepts, do:
If not, what serves for me may serve for you.

Jonson, Discoveries

 De stultitiâ. - What petty things they are we wonder at, like children that esteem every trifle, and prefer a fairing before their fathers!  What difference is between us and them but that we are dearer fools, coxcombs at a higher rate?  They are pleased with cockleshells, whistles, hobby-horses, and such like; we with statues, marble pillars, pictures, gilded roofs, where underneath is lath and lime, perhaps loam.  Yet we take pleasure in the lie, and are glad we can cozen ourselves.  Nor is it only in our walls and ceilings, but all that we call happiness is mere painting and gilt, and all for money.  What a thin membrane of honour that is! and how hath all true reputation fallen, since money began to have any!  Yet the great herd, the multitude, that in all other things are divided, in this alone conspire and agree - to love money.  They wish for it, they embrace it, they adore it, while yet it is possessed with greater stir and torment than it is gotten.

nil admirari - to be astonished at nothing


An Epitaph on the ADMIRABLE Dramatic Poet W. Shakespeare

John Milton, 1632:
"On Shakespeare"
What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd Bones,
The labour of an age in piled Stones,
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid
Under a Star-ypointing Pyramid?
Dear son of memory, great heir of Fame,
What need'st thou such weak witnes of thy name?
Hast built thy self a live-long Monument.
For whilst to th' shame of slow-endeavouring art,
Thy easie numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalu'd Book,
Those Delphick lines with deep impression took,
Then thou our fancy of it self bereaving,
Dost make us Marble with too much conceaving;
And so Sepulcher'd in such pomp dost lie,
That Kings for such a Tomb would wish to die

Pomp \Pomp\, n. [OE. pompe, F. pompe, L. pompa, fr. Gr. ? a
   sending, a solemn procession, pomp, fr. ? to send. Cf. Pump
   a shoe.]
   1. A procession distinguished by ostentation and splendor; a
      pageant. ``All the pomps of a Roman triumph.'' --Addison.

   2. Show of magnificence; parade; display; power.

   Syn: Display; parade; pageant; pageantry; splendor; state;
        magnificence; ostentation; grandeur; pride.
Pomp \Pomp\, v. i.
   To make a pompous display; to conduct. [Obs.] --B. Jonson.
 'Shakespeare' as CITERIA:

citeria, citeriae at Latin => English Of Explained:

N (1st) F clown; effigy/caricature carried in procession at the games (L+S);


Virtue Triumphant
By Ben Jonson (1572–1637)
WHO, Virtue, can thy power forget
That sees these live and triumph yet?
Th’ Assyrian pomp, the Persian pride,
Greeks’ glory and the Romans’ died;
    And who yet imitate        5
Their noises, tarry the same fate.
Force greatness all the glorious ways
    You can, it soon decays;
    But so good fame shall never:
Her triumphs, as their causes, are forever.

 Cynthia's Revels - Jonson

The C H A L L E N G E.

E it known to all that profess Courtship, by these Pre-
 sents (from the white sattin Reveller, to the Cloth of
Tissue and Bodkin,) that we,
Master of the noble and subtil Science of Courtship, do give
leave and license to our
Provost, Acolastus-Polypragmon-
Asotus, to play his Masters Prize, against all Masters what-
soever in this subtile Mystery, at these four, the choice and
most cunning Weapons of
Court complement, viz. the bare
Accost; the better Reguard; the solemn Address; and
perfect Close. These are therefore to give notice to all
comers, that he, the said
is here present (by the help of his Mercer, Taylor, Millener,
Sempster, and so forth) at his designed hour, in this fair
Gallery, the present day of this present month, to perform
and do his uttermost for the atchievement and bearing away of
the Prizes, which are these:
viz. For the bare Accost, twoWall-eyes, in a face forced: For the better Reguard, aFace fovourablyfavourably simpring, with a Fan waving: For thesolemn Address, two Lips wagging, and never a wise word:
For the
perfect Close, a Wring by the hand, with a Ban-
quet in a corner. And Phœbus save Cynthia.

   Appeareth no Man yet, to answer the Prizer? No
voyce? Musick, give them their Summons.
[Musick sounds.            

   Pha. The solemnity of this is excellent.
   Amo. Silence. Well, I perceive your name is their Ter-
ror; and keepeth them back.

 nil admirari 'to lose self-possession at nothing


C Y N T H I A 'S
R E V E L S,

O R,
The Fountain of Self-Love.


First Acted in the Year 1600. By the then CHILDREN of QUEEN

 Amorphus. Plant your self there, Sir: and observe me. You
shall now, as well be the Ocular, as the Ear-witness,
how clearly I can refel that paradox, or rather pseudodox;
of those, which hold the Face to be the Index of the
mind, which (I assure you) is not so, in any politick
Creature: for instance; I will now give you the parti-
cular, and distinct face of every your most noted species
of Persons, as your Merchant, your Schollar, your
Soldier, your Lawyer, Courtier, &c. and each of these
so truly, as you would swear, but that your Eye shall
see the variation of the Lineament, it were my most
proper and genuine aspect. First, for your Merchant,
or City-face, 'tis thus, a dull, plodding Face, still look-
ing in a direct line, forward: there is no great matter
in this Face. Then have you your Students, or aca-
Face, which is here, an honest, simple, and
methodical Face: but somewhat more spred than the
former. The third is your Soldiers Face, a menacing,
and astounding Face, that looks broad, and big: the
grace of this Face consisteth much in a Beard. The anti-
to this, is your Lawyers Face, a contracted, sub-
tile, and intricate Face, full of quirks, and turnings,
a labyrinthæan Face, now angularly, now circularly, e-
very way aspected. Next is your statist's Face, a seri-
ous, solemn, and supercilious Face, full of formal, and
square Gravity, the Eye (for the most part) deeply and
artificially shadow'd: there is great judgment required
in the making of this Face. But now, to come to your
Face of Faces, or Courtiers Face, 'tis of three sorts,
according to our subdivision of a Courtier, Elementary,
Practick, and Theorick. Your Courtier Theorick, is
he, that hath arriv'd to his farthest, and doth now
know the Court, rather by speculation, than practice;
and this is his Face: a fastidious and oblick Face, that
looks, as it went with a Vice, and were screw'd thus.
Your Courtier Practick, is he, that is yet in his Path,
his course, his way, and hath not toucht the puntilio,
or point of his hope; his Face is here: a most promi-
sing, open, smooth, and over-flowing Face, that seems
as it would run, and pour it self into you. Somewhat
a northerly Face. Your Courtier Elementary, is one
but newly enter'd, or as it were in the alphabet, or ut-re-
of Courtship. Note well this Face, for it is
this you must practice.
   Aso. I'll practice 'em all, if you please, Sir.
   Amo. I, hereafter you may: and it will not be alto-
gether an ungrateful study. For, let your Soul be as-
sur'd of this (in any rank, or profession whatever) the
more general, or major part of Opinion goes with the
Face, and (simply) respects nothing else. Therefore,
if that can be made exactly, curiously, exquisitely,
thorowly, it is enough: But (for the present) you shall
only apply your self to this Face of the Elementary
Courtier, a light, revelling, and protesting Face, now
blushing, now smiling, which you may help much with
a wanton wagging of your Head, thus, (a Feather will
teach you) or with kissing your Finger that hath the
Ruby, or playing with some String of your Band, which
is a most quaint kind of melancholy besides: or (if a-
mong Ladies) laughing lowd, and crying up your own
Wit, though perhaps borrow'd, it is not amiss. Where
is your Page? call for your Casting-bottle, and place
your mirrour in your Hat, as I told you: so. Come,
look not pale, observe me, set your face, and enter.
   Mer. O, for some excellent Painter, to have tane the
Copy of all these Faces!

With what noose can I hold this Proteus, varying thus his forms?  Horace, Epistle 1:1
In Cynthia's Revels Jonson exposes the courtier Oxford/Amorphus's sprezzatura and aristocratic je-ne-sais-quois as studied and artful poses and not the signs of a natural or innate nobleness. The courtier's production of maraviglia/wonder as a source of delight and an expression of an inborn nobility is exposed as folly and a ridiculous imitation of vera nobilitas.


Act III.    Scene IV.

Arete, Crites.

Hat, Crites! where have you drawn forth the day?
 You have not visited your jealous Friends?
   Cri. Where I have seen (most honour'd Arete,)
The strangest pageant, fashion'd like a Court,
(At least I dream't I saw it) so diffus'd,
So painted, pyed, and full of Rainbow strains,
As never yet (either by time, or place)
Was made the Food to my distasted sense:
Nor can my weak imperfect Memory
Now render half the forms unto my Tongue,
That were convolv'd within this thrifty room.
Here, stalks me by a proud and spangled Sir,
That looks three hand-fulls higher than his Foretop;
Savours himself alone, is only kind
And loving to himself: one that will speak
More dark, and doubtful than six Oracles;
Salutes a Friend, as if he had a stich,
Is his own Chronicle, and scarce can eat
For registring himself: is waited on
By Mimicks, Jesters, Pandars, Parasites,
And other such like Prodigies of Men.
He past, appears some mincing Marmoset
Made all of Clothes, and Face; his Limbs so set
As if they had some voluntary act
Without Mans motion, and must move just so
In spite of their Creation: one that weighs
His Breath between his Teeth, and dares not smile
Beyond a point, for fear t'unstarch his look;
Hath travel'd to make Legs, and seen the Cringe
Of several Courts, and Courtiers; knows the time
Of giving Titles, and of taking Walls;
Hath read Court-common-places; made them his:
Studied the Grammar of state, and all the Rules
Each formal Usher in that politick School
Can teach a Man. A third comes giving nods
To his repenting Creditors, protests
To weeping Sutors, takes the coming Gold
Of insolent, and base Ambition,
That hourly rubs his dry and itchy Palms:
Which grip't, like burning Coals, he hurls away
Into the Laps of Bawds, and Buffoons Mouths.
With him there meets some subtile Proteus, one
Can change, and vary with all forms he sees;
Be any thing but honest; serves the time;
Hovers betwixt two Factions, and explores
The drifts of both; which (with cross Face) he bereasbears
To the divided Heads, and is receiv'd
With mutual grace of either: one that dares
Do deeds worthy the Hurdle, or the Wheel,
To be thought some body; and is (in sooth)
Such as the Satyrist points truly forth,
That only to his Crimes owes all his worth.
   Are. You tell us wonders, Crites.
   Cri. This is nothing.
There stands a Neophyte glazing of his Face,
Pruning his Clothes, perfuming of his Hair,
Against his Idol enters; and repeats
(Like an unperfect Prologue, at third Musick)
His part of Speeches, and confederate Jests,
In passion to himself. Another swears
His Scene of Courtship over; bids, believe him,
Twenty times e're they will; anon, doth seem
As he would kiss away his Hand in kindness;
Then walks as melancholick, and stands wreath'd,
As he were pinn'd up to the Arras, thus.
A third is most in action, swims, and frisks,
Plays with his Mistresses Paps, salutes here Pumps,
Adores her Hems, her Skirts, her Knots, her Curls,
Will spend his Patrimony for a Garter,
Or the least Feather in her bounteous Fan.
A fourth, he only comes in for a mute:
Divides the Act with a dumb shew, and Exit.
Then must the Ladies laugh, strait comes their Scene,
A sixth time worse confusion than the rest.
Where you shall hear one talk of this Mans Eye;
Another, of his Lip; a third, of his Nose;
A fourth commend his Leg; a fifth his Foot;
A sixt his hand; and every one a Limb:
That you would think the poor distorted Gallant
Must there expire. Then fall they in discourse
Of Tires and Fashions, how they must take place,
Where they may kiss, and whom, when to sit down,
And with what grace to rise; if they salute,
What curtesie they must use: such Cob-web stuff,
As would enforce the common'st sense abhor
Th' Arachnean workers.
   Are. Patience, gentle Crites.
This knot of Spiders will be soon dissolv'd,
And all their Webs swept out of Cynthia's Court,
When once her glorious Deity appears,
And but presents it self in her full light:
Till when, go in, and spend your hours with us
Your honour'd Friends, Time and Phronesis,
In Contemplation of our Goddess Name.

Think on some sweet and choice invention, now,
Worthy her serous and illustrious Eyes,
That from the merit of it we may take
Desir'd occasion to prefer your worth,
And make your service known to Cynthia.
It is the pride of Arete to grace
Her studious lovers; and (in scorn of Time,
Envy, and Ignorance) to lift their state
Above a vulgar height. True happiness
Consists not in the multitude of friends,
But in the worth, and choice
. Nor would I have
Vertue a popular regard pursue:
Let them be good that love me, though but few.

   Cri. I kiss thy hands, divinest Arete,
And vow my self to thee, and Cynthia.

Sunday, July 28, 2013

Horace's Inaequalis Tonsor and the Droeshout Figure

Cutting a Ridiculous Figure


If I meet you with my hair cut by an uneven barber, you laugh [at me]: if I chance to have a ragged shirt under a handsome coat, or if my disproportioned gown fits me ill, you laugh.

(footnote - he is not ridiculous because the barber has cut his hair too short, but because he has cut it unequally - inaequalis tonsor)

What [do you do], when my judgment contradicts itself? it despises what it before desired; seeks for that which lately it neglected; is all in a ferment, and is inconsistent in the whole tenor of life; pulls down, builds up, changes square to round. In this case, you think I am mad in the common way, and you do not laugh, nor believe that I stand in need of a physician, or of a guardian assigned by the praetor; though you are the patron of my affairs, and are disgusted at the ill-pared nail of a friend that depends upon you, that reveres you.

 What knot holds this shifting Proteus? Horace, Epistles 1:1

Jonson, Discoveries

(In the difference of wits, note 10)

Not. 10.--It cannot but come to pass that these men who commonly seek to do more than enough may sometimes happen on something that is good and great; but very seldom: and when it comes it doth not recompense the rest of their ill. For their jests, and their sentences (which they only and ambitiously seek for) stick out, and are more eminent, because all is sordid and vile about them; as lights are more discerned in a thick darkness than a faint shadow. Now, because they speak all they can (however unfitly), they are thought to have the greater copy; where the learned use ever election and a mean, they look back to what they intended at first, and make all an even and proportioned body.

(Droeshout - Shakespeare's Disproportionate Uneven Body - The [bad] body stands both by metonymy and synecdoche for the kind of speech that Quintilian rejects; bad speech is both like such bodies and produced by such bodies (Richlin).)

Jonson, con't...

The true artificer will not run away from NATURE as he were AFRAID of her, or depart from life and the likeness of truth, but speak to the capacity of his hearers. And though his language differ from the vulgar somewhat, it shall not fly from all humanity, with the Tamerlanes and Tamerchains of the late age, which had nothing in them but the scenical strutting and furious vociferation to warrant them to the ignorant gapers. He knows it is his only art so to carry it, as none but artificers perceive it. In the meantime, perhaps, he is called barren, dull, lean, a poor writer, or by what contumelious word can come in their cheeks, by these men who, without labour, judgment, knowledge, or almost sense, are received or preferred before him. He gratulates them and their fortune. Another age, or juster men, will acknowledge the virtues of his studies, his wisdom in dividing, his subtlety in arguing, with what strength he doth inspire his readers, with what sweetness he strokes them; in inveighing, what sharpness; in jest, what urbanity he uses; how he doth reign in men's affections; how invade and break in upon them, and makes their minds like the thing he writes. Then in his elocution to behold what word is proper, which hath ornaments, which height, what is beautifully translated, where figures are fit, which gentle, which strong, to show the composition manly; and how he hath avoided faint, obscure, obscene, sordid, humble, improper, or effeminate phrase; which is not only praised of the most, but commended (which is worse), especially for that it is naught.

With what noose can I hold this Proteus, varying thus his forms?  Horace, Epistle 1:1

 Edward Herbert, Baron Herbert of Cherbury

To his Friend Ben Johnson, of his Horace made English.

'TWas not enough, Ben Johnson, to be thought
Of English Poets best, but to have brought
In greater state, to their acquaintance, one
So equal to himself and thee, that none
Might be thy second, while thy Glory is,
To be the Horace of our times and his.

The Ambisinister Figure CUT for Shakespeare:

Puttenham, Shakespeare, and the abuse of rhetoric.

By: Hillman, David, Studies in English Literature (Rice), 00393657, Winter96, Vol. 36, Issue 1

...The way in which this criss-crossing shaped the uses of the word "discretion" in early modern England is the subject of this essay.

The term came into prominence in a wide range of texts and acquired a new range of meanings during the early modern period. According to the OED, the word had, prior to 1590, denoted personal 'judgement," "discernment," or "prudence," as well as juridical "power of disposal" (in addition to being an honorific title, in such phrases as "your high and wise discretion"). But early modern discourse saw a burgeoning of overlapping meanings in a variety of cultural spheres. These included personal attributes (tact, propriety of behavior, or secrecy--in explicit contrast to madness, impertinence, and rashness); a social classification (the separation of those who possess these attributes--the "discreet"--from those who do not, and of those who have reached the "age of discretion" from those who have not); the legal power to enforce this stratification (the authority or "discretion of the law"); and the ostensibly purely aesthetic separations of literary decorum (the discrezione or "discernment" of Italian neoclassical literary theory; the Indo-European base of the word--[*][s]ker, TO CUT--is in fact the same as that of "CRITIC"). The Latin root of "discretion"--cernere, to sift out--was reunited with the word only at the end of the sixteenth century, when it again began to mean, quite simply, "separation"; and it is this meaning, separation as such, that underlies the potential of the word to be used, in all these diverse contexts, to ground a hierarchical ideology. The word was almost invariably used in Elizabethan England as a means of constructing social, cultural, or aesthetic difference.

Nil Admirari - Binding Fals-Semblant in the FF
Jonson, Cynthia's Revels

Cynthia: Dear Arete, and Crites, to you two
We give the Charge; impose what Pains you please:
Remembring ever what we first decreed,
Since Revels were proclaim'd, let now none bleed.
Arete. How well Diana can distinguish Times,
And sort her Censures, keeping to her self
The Doom of Gods, leaving the rest to us?
Come, cite them, Crites, first, and then proceed.
Then, Crites, practise thy DISCRETION.


Horace, Epistles

If you had recited any thing to Quintilius, he would say, “Alter, I pray, this and this:” if you replied, you could do it no better, having made the experiment twice or thrice in vain; he would order you to blot out, and once more apply to the anvil your ill-formed verses: if you choose rather to defend than correct a fault, he spent not a word more nor fruitless labor, but you alone might be fond of yourself and your own works, without a rival. A good and sensible man will censure spiritless verses, he will condemn the rugged, on the incorrect he will draw across a black stroke with his pen; he will lop off ambitious [and redundant] ornaments; he will make him throw light on the parts that are not perspicuous; he will arraign what is expressed ambiguously; he will mark what should be altered; [in short,] he will be an Aristarchus: he will not say, “Why should I give my friend offense about mere trifles?" These trifles will lead into mischiefs of serious consequence, when once made an object of ridicule, and used in a sinister manner.

Like one whom an odious plague or jaundice, fanatic phrensy or lunacy, distresses; those who are wise avoid a mad poet, and are afraid to touch him; the boys jostle him, and the incautious pursue him. If, like a fowler intent upon his game, he should fall into a well or a ditch while he belches out his fustian verses and roams about, though he should cry out for a long time, “Come to my assistance, O my countrymen;” not one would give himself the trouble of taking him up. Were any one to take pains to give him aid, and let down a rope; “How do you know, but he threw himself in hither on purpose?” I shall say: and will relate the death of the Sicilian poet. Empedocles, while he was ambitious of being esteemed an immortal god, in cold blood leaped into burning Aetna. Let poets have the privilege and license to die [as they please]. He who saves a man against his will, does the same with him who kills him [against his will]. Neither is it the first time that he has behaved in this manner; nor, were he to be forced from his purposes, would he now become a man, and lay aside his desire of such a famous death. Neither does it appear sufficiently, why he makes verses: whether he has defiled his father’s ashes, or sacrilegiously removed the sad enclosure of the vindictive thunder: it is evident that he is mad, and like a bear that has burst through the gates closing his den, this unmerciful rehearser chases the learned and unlearned. And whomsoever he seizes, he fastens on and assassinates with recitation: a leech that will not quit the skin, till satiated with blood.

 Anthony Scoloker describes 'friendly Shakespeare's tragedies' as of the 'vulgar's Element', and the plays' ability to 'please all':

 “(an epistle to the reader) should be like the Never-too-well read Arcadia, where the Prose and verce (Matters and Words) are like his Mistresses eyes, one still excelling another and without Co-rivall: or to come home to the vulgars Element, like Friendly Shakespeare’s Tragedies, where the Commedian rides, when the Tragedian stands on tip-toe: Faith it should please all, like Prince Hamlet. But in sadnesse, then it were to be feared he would runne made Insooth I will not be moonesicke, to please: nor out of my wits though I displeased all ” (Preface, “Diaphantus; or, the Passions of Love” 1604)


Dull Grinning Ignorance:

John Beaumont , Jonsonus Virbius

...Twas he that found (plac'd) in the seat of wit,
DULL grinning IGNORANCE, and banish'd it;
He on the prostituted stage appears
To make men hear, not by their eyes, but ears;
Who painted virtues, that each one might know,
And point the man, that did such treasure owe :
So that who could in JONSON'S lines be high
Needed not honours, or a riband buy ;
But vice he only shewed us in a glass,
Which by reflection of those rays that pass,
Retains the FIGURE lively, set before,
And that withdrawn, reflects at us no more;
So, he observ'd the like decorum, when
*He whipt the vices, and yet spar'd the men* :
When heretofore, the Vice's only note,
And sign from virtue was his party-coat;
When devils were the last men on the stage,
And pray'd for plenty, and the PRESENT AGE.


Sidney, Defense of Poetry

...But, besides these gross absurdities, how all their plays be neither right tragedies nor right comedies, mingling kings and clowns, not because the matter so carrieth it, but thrust in the clown by head and shoulders to play a part in majestical matters, with neither DECENCY nor DISCRETION; so as neither the admiration and commiseration, nor the right sportfulness, is by their mongrel tragi-comedy obtained. I know Apuleius did somewhat so, but that is a thing recounted with space of time, not represented in one moment; and I know the ancients have one or two examples of tragi-comedies, as Plautus hath Amphytrio. But, if we mark them well, we shall find that they never, or very daintily, match hornpipes and funerals. So falleth it out that, having indeed no right comedy in that comical part of our tragedy, we have nothing but scurrility, unworthy of any chaste ears, or some extreme show of doltishness, indeed fit to lift up a loud laughter, and nothing else; where the whole tract of a comedy should be full of delight, as the tragedy should be still maintained in a well-raised admiration.


But our comedians think there is no delight without laughter, which is very wrong; for though laughter may come with delight, yet cometh it not of delight, as though delight should be the cause of laughter; but well may one thing breed both together. Nay, rather in themselves they have, as it were, a kind of contrariety. For delight we scarcely do, but in things that have a conveniency to ourselves, or to the general nature; laughter almost ever cometh of things most disproportioned to ourselves and nature. Delight hath a joy in it either permanent or present; laughter hath only a scornful tickling...But I have lavished out too many words of this playmatter. I do it, because as they are excelling parts of poesy, so is there none so much used in England, and none can be more pitifully abused; which, like an unmannerly daughter, showing a bad education, causeth her mother Poesy`s honesty to be called in question.

Monday, July 1, 2013

Shakespeare on Masculinity and the Rejection of Bellicosity

 Although Robin H. Wells' book Shakespeare on Masculinity was published in 2000 I have read it only last week. Very interesting for Wells' take on the polarization of masculine/feminine and the detailed study of 'Shakespeare's' opposition to the bellicose rhetoric of the Sidney-Essex faction. 

I haven't made out a time-line, but the characterization of the Earl of Oxford as effeminate and lacking in warlike ardor certainly goes back to Harvey's 1580 'Speculum Tuscanismi' and his exhortation of the Earl to put away his 'bloodless' books in the 1578 Gratulationes Valdinenses at a time when Harvey was a client of the Earl of Leicester - Sidney's uncle and Essex's step-father.

IMO, the violent rhetoric and bellicose character of Hamlet makes him more recognizable as a figure of Protestant militancy than a representation of the character of Edward de Vere. 

This book also elaborates upon the bellicose character of Prince Henry and the environment that Oxford's heir Henry de Vere must have been exposed to as he was raised as the companion of the Prince. (Abraham Holland's decision to have Henry de Vere met in Elysium by the ghost of Sidney suggests that Henry may not have had the temperament to honour his own father's literary or personal legacies. ):

Henry de Vere - Militant Protestant, masculine, anti-court:

 from (AN ELEGIE VPON THE DEATH OF THE RIGHT NOBLE and Magnanimous Heroë, HENRY Earle of Oxford, Viscount Bulbec, Lord Samford, and Lord great Chamberlaine of England.

WHO SICKENED IN SERVICE OF HIS KING and Countrie, in defence of the States. And died at the Hagh in Holland. Aprill 1625.

...He [Henry de Vere] sought no new-made Honours in the Tide
Of favour, but was borne the same he di'de.
Nor came he to the Elysium with shame
That the old VERES did blush to heare his Name
Brighter than theirs: where his deserts to grace
His Grand-fathers rose up and gave him place,
And set him with the Heroës, where the Quire
Of ayrie Worthies rise up, and admire
The stately Shade: those Brittish Ghosts which long
Agoe were number'd in th'Elysian throng
Ioy to behold him; SYDNEY threw his Bayes
On OXFORDS head, and daign'd to sing his praise;
While Fame with silver Trumpet did keepe time
With his high Voice, and answered his rime.

The soft inticements of the Court, the smiles
Of Glorious Princes the bewitching wiles
Of softer Ladies, and the Golden State
That in such places doth on Greatnesse waite
And all the shadie happinesse which seemes
To attend Kings and follow Diadems
Were Boy-games to his minde: to see a Maske
And sit it out, he held a greater taske
Than to endure a Siege: to wake all Night
In his cold armour, still expecting fight
And the drad On-set, the sad face of feare,
And the pale silence of an Army, were
His best Delights; among the common rout
Of his rough Souldiers to sit hardnesse out
Were his most pleasing Delicates: to him
A Batter'd Helmet was a Diadem:
And wounds, his Brauerie: Knowing that Fame
And faire Eternitie could neuer claime
Their Meeds without such Hazards:


Harvey, Gratulationes Valdinenses, 1578 - Latin Address to the Earl of Oxford:

...Up, great Earl, you must feed that hope of courage. It befits a man to keep the horrid arms of Mars busy even in peace; " 'Tis wise to accustom oneself", and "Use is worth everything". You, O you can be most mighty! Though there be no war, still warlike praise is a thing of great nobility; the name of Leader suits the great. It is wise to watch for effects and to see what threatens beforehand, like the prince who in time of peace strolling the fields with his family: "Tell me (he said), if the enemy were to hold this hill or maybe that hump, what would you do? Which of you’d be better protected? Which side would have the honor to win on its right? In what manner would you attack? With what strategies would you advance? Which is our safest position? Which is unsafe for them? If retreat's the thing, if delay, if force or impetuosity, whence would show our best escape or entry? Suppose these humps here or these streams were in the way; here hostile cities and troops of the enemy opposed you: many are the chances, the uncertain dangers of wars! Battles are doubtful; everything has to be anticipated in the mind first; neither our advantages nor disadvantages should seem to have been poorly explored. Tell me, what would you do? what occurs to you, my good Pyrrhus? What to you, veteran? You speak sagely, but the thing is difficult. But pluck up, Fortune favors the brave. The only fear is lest the enemy should judge by those documents of your leisure; we should do cunningly whatever we approach. May God favor so great daring, but let us imitate that god who looks in both directions."


O Earl, O Hero, more courageous than Pyrrhus himself, you too meditate such thoughts. Better things can befall and will befall you. The greatest pleasure in peace is to occupy your mind with camps, skirmishes, and warlike shields, to deal in destructive balls and dire missiles. And I warn you to be awake; you, with Mars and Mercury propitious, may combine the merits of the camp and city. Where your great courage calls you, go, with lucky foot! Be indulgent, I pray: whosoever asks to surpass what you now do, by inciting you to acts foretells and approves them. It was that I might not seem to have talked and said nothing, and that my "Hail" might be somewhat more congenial to you, that I chose material to suit such ardor as yours. Would that the land would salute you in the same tones; how, great-hearted Hero, you ought to save yourself for war and return safe to mother Peace! That is the care of men in command; that agrees with Nobility.

Shakespeare on Masculinity - Robin Headlam Wells

Masculinity was a political issue in early-modern England. Phrases such as ‘courage-masculine’ or ‘manly virtue’ took on special meaning. As used by members of the Sidney-Essex faction, and later by admirers of the bellicose young Prince of Wales, they signified commitment to the ideals of militant Protestantism. Diplomacy and compromise were disparaged as ‘feminine’.

   Shakespeare on Masculinity is an original study of the way Shakespeare's plays engage with a subject that provoked bitter public dispute. Robin Headlam Wells argues that Shakespeare took a sceptical view of the militant-Protestant cult of heroic masculinity. Following a series of portraits of the dangerously charismatic warrior-hero, Shakespeare turned at the end of his writing career to a different kind of leader. If the heroes of the martial tragedies evoke a Herculean ideal of manhood, The Tempest portrays a ruler who, Orpheus-like, uses the arts of civilization to bring peace to a divided world.

The Tempest and the importance of 'thaumaturgical' kingship? 


Edward de Vere to Robert Cecil, April 27, 1603- 

...I cannot but find a great grief in myself to remember the mistress which we have lost, under whom both you and myself from our greenest years have been in a manner brought up and, although it hath pleased God after an earthly kingdom to take her up into a more permanent and heavenly state wherein I do not doubt but she is crowned with glory, and to give us a prince wise, learned and enriched with all virtues, yet the long time which we spent in her service we cannot look for so much left of our days as to bestow upon another, neither the long acquaintance and kind familiarities wherewith she did use us we are not ever to expect from another prince, as denied by the infirmity of age and common course of reason. In this common shipwreck, mine is above all the rest who, least regarded though often comforted of all her followers, she hath left to try my fortune among the alterations of time and chance, either without sail whereby to take the advantage of any prosperous gale or with anchor to ride till the storm be overpast. There is nothing therefore left to my comfort but the excellent virtues and deep wisdom wherewith God hath endued our new master and sovereign Lord, who doth not come amongst us as a stranger but as a natural prince, succeeding by right of blood and inheritance, not as a conqueror but as the true shepherd of Christ's flock to cherish and comfort them.


 ‘Male deformities’: Narcissus and the Reformation of Courtly Manners in Cynthia’s Revels

in Ovid & the Renaissance Body

By Goran V Stanivukovic
Mario Digangi


...In this essay I want to pursue such an analysis by focusing on Ben Jonson’s early comedy Cynthia’s Revels (1600), which offers particular insight into the social and political implications of the Narcissus myth for early modern English culture. Originally entered in the Stationer’s Register as Narcissus, or the fountain of self-love, this quirky satire of courtly manners represents Jonson’s ‘only extended use of Ovidian material.: Jonson’s uncharacteristic recourse to Ovidian subjects in Cynthia’s Revels suggests his recognition of the Narcissus myth’s theatrical viability as a vehicle for satire. While Narcissus never appears as a character in the play, the Narcissus myth provides Jonson with vivid material for exposing the transgressive bodily practices of unauthorized courtiers, especially through the character of Amorphous (“THE DEFORMED”), whose affected manners violate orthodox prescriptions for male aristocratic comportment. The play’s ridicule of courtly affectation thus accords with early modern interpretations of the Narcissus myth that primarily associate self-love not with homoerotic desire but with EFFEMINATE MANNERS: a clear sign of social, economic and political transgression. By contrast, the virtuously ‘masculine’ comportment of the true gentleman, according to a particular strain of early modern political ideology, justifies his status and exercise of power. Exposing illegitimate courtiers as effeminate narcissists, Cynthia’s Revels reveals the importance of an ideology of ‘civilized’ masculinity to early-seventeenth-century constructions of *political legitimacy*.

The Faerie Queen; disposed into Twelve Books, fashioning XII moral Virtues. (T. Keightley)
The British Quarterly Review 44 (Oct 1855): 368-412.  

...The character of the Earl of Oxford, Sir Philip Sydney's rival and enemy, is certainly given in that of the ape at court [in Spenser's Mother Hubberd's Tale]. His dainty attire, his skill in tilting and dancing, his 'fine loving verses,' together with his profligate habits and his sceptical notions, must have pointed him out to the most superficial reader, as clearly as the following character of

'The brave courtier in whose beauteous thought
Regard of honor harbours more than aught,'

points at 'all-accomplished Sydney.'


 A Speech according to Horace. --Ben Jonson

...And could (if our great Men would let their Sons
Come to their Schools,) show 'em the use of Guns.
And there instruct the noble English Heirs
In Politick, and Militar Affairs;
But he that should perswade, to have this done
For Education of our Lordings; Soon
Should he hear of Billow, Wind, and Storm,
From the Tempestuous Grandlings, who'll inform
Us, in our bearing, that are thus, and thus,
Born, bred, allied? what's he dare tutor us?
Are we by Book-worms to be aw'd? must we
Live by their Scale, that dare do nothing free?
Why are we Rich, or Great, except to show
All licence in our Lives? What need we know?
More then to praise a Dog? or Horse? or speak
The Hawking Language? or our Day to break
With Citizens? let Clowns, and Tradesmen breed
Their Sons to study Arts, the Laws, the Creed:
We will believe like Men of our own Rank,
In so much Land a year, or such a Bank,
That turns us so much Monies, at which rate
Our Ancestors impos'd on Prince and State.
Let poor Nobility be vertuous: We,
Descended in a Rope of Titles, be
From Guy, or Bevis, Arthur, or from whom
The Herald will. Our Blood is now become,
Past any need of Vertue. Let them care,
That in the Cradle of their Gentry are;
To serve the State by Councels, and by Arms:
We neither love the Troubles, nor the harms.
What love you then? your Whore? what study? Gate,
Carriage, and Dressing. There is up of late
The ACADEMY, where the Gallants meet ——
What to make Legs? yes, and to smell most sweet,
All that they do at Plays. O, but first here
They learn and study; and then practise there.
But why are all these Irons i' the Fire
Of several makings? helps, helps, t' attire
His Lordship. That is for his Band, his Hair
This, and that Box his Beauty to repair;
This other for his Eye-brows; hence, away,
I may no longer on these PICTURES stay,
These Carkasses of Honour; Taylors blocks,
Cover'd with Tissue, whose prosperity mocks
The fate of things: whilst totter'd Vertue holds
Her broken Arms up, to their EMPTY MOULDS.


Jonson, Cynthia's Revels

Cynthia: Dear Arete, and Crites, to you two
We give the Charge; impose what Pains you please:
Remembring ever what we first decreed,
Since Revels were proclaim'd, let now none bleed.
Arete. How well Diana can distinguish Times,
And sort her Censures, keeping to her self
The Doom of Gods, leaving the rest to us?
Come, cite them, Crites, first, and then proceed.
Then, Crites, practise thy DISCRETION.


The word [discretion] was almost invariably used in Elizabethan England as a means of constructing social, cultural, or aesthetic difference. (David Hillman, Puttenham, Shakespeare, and the abuse of rhetoric).


Jonson's Discretion - Holding/Restraining/Ruling Shakespeare's Quill:

From To the Deceased Author of these Poems (William Cartwright)
by Jasper Mayne

...And as thy Wit was like a Spring, so all
The soft streams of it we may Chrystall call:
No cloud of Fancie, no mysterious stroke,
No Verse like those which antient Sybils spoke;
No Oracle of Language, to amaze
The Reader with a dark, or Midnight Phrase,
Stands in thy Writings, which are all pure Day,
A cleer, bright Sunchine, and the mist away.
That which Thou wrot'st was sense, and that sense good,
Things not first written, and then understood:

Or if sometimes thy Fancy soar'd so high
As to seem lost to the unlearned Eye,
'Twas but like generous Falcons, when high flown,
Which mount to make the Quarrey more their own.

For thou to Nature had'st joyn'd Art, and skill.
In Thee Ben Johnson still HELD SHAKESPEARE'S QUILL:
A QUILL, RUL'D by sharp Judgement, and such Laws,
As a well studied Mind, and Reason draws.
Thy Lamp was cherish'd with suppolied of Oyle,
Fetch'd from the Romane and the Graecian soyle. (snip)


'Cutting off' Oxford's Book. Was the First Folio published or released by imprisoned Henry de Vere to please the pacifist King James - but divorced from the name/legacy of Vere? Shakespeare's Book was designated by Milton as the companion of King Charles as he awaited execution. Shakespeare a 'courtly' book?

Spenser, Mother Hubberd's Tale

...Such is the rightfull Courtier in his kinde:

But vnto such the Ape lent not his minde;
Such were for him no fit companions,
Such would descrie his lewd conditions:
But the yong lustie gallants he did chose
To follow, meete to whom he might disclose
His witlesse pleasance, and ill pleasing vaine.
A thousand wayes he them could entertaine,
With all the thriftles games, that may be found
With mumming and with masking all around,
With dice, with cards, with balliards farre vnfit,
With shuttlecocks, misseeming manlie wit,
With courtizans, and costly riotize,
Whereof still somewhat to his share did rize:
Ne, them to pleasure, would he sometimes scorne
A Pandares coate (so basely was he borne);
Thereto he could fine louing verses frame,
And play the Poet oft. But ah, for shame
Let not sweete Poets praise, whose onely pride
Is vertue to aduaunce, and vice deride,
Be with the worke of losels wit defamed,
Ne let such verses Poetrie be named:
Yet he the name on him would rashly take,
Maugre the sacred Muses, and it make
A seruant to the vile affection
Of such, as he depended most vpon,
And with the sugrie sweete thereof allure
Chast Ladies eares to fantasies impure.
To such delights the noble wits he led
Which him relieu'd, and their vaine humours fed
With fruitles follies, and vnsound delights.
But if perhaps into their noble sprights
Desire of honor, or braue thoughts of armes
Did euer creepe, then with his wicked charmes
And strong conceipts he would it driue away,
Ne suffer it to house there halfe a day.


Oxford/Shakespeare/Comus (Circean eloquence - making beasts of men)

Milton, John: Comus

118: COMUS enters, with a charming-rod in one hand, his glass in the

119: other: with him a rout of monsters, headed like sundry sorts of
120: wild
121: beasts, but otherwise like men and women, their apparel
122: glistering.
123: They come in making a riotous and unruly noise, with torches in
124: their hands.


127: COMUS. The star that bids the shepherd fold
128: Now the top of heaven doth hold;
129: And the gilded car of day
130: His glowing axle doth allay
131: In the steep Atlantic stream;
132: And the slope sun his upward beam
133: Shoots against the dusky pole,
134: Pacing toward the other goal
135: Of his chamber in the east.
136: Meanwhile, welcome joy and feast,
137: Midnight shout and revelry,
138: Tipsy dance and jollity.
139: Braid your locks with rosy twine,
140: Dropping odours, dropping wine.
141: Rigour now is gone to bed;
142: And Advice with scrupulous head,
143: Strict Age, and sour Severity,
144: With their grave saws, in slumber lie.
145: We, that are of purer fire,
146: Imitate the starry quire,
147: Who, in their nightly watchful spheres,
148: Lead in swift round the months and years.
149: The sounds and seas, with all their finny drove,
150: Now to the moon in wavering morrice move;
151: And on the tawny sands and shelves
152: Trip the pert fairies and the dapper elves.
153: By dimpled brook and fountain-brim,
154: The wood-nymphs, decked with daisies trim,
155: Their merry wakes and pastimes keep:
156: What hath night to do with sleep?
157: Night hath better sweets to prove;
158: Venus now wakes, and wakens Love.
159: Come, let us our rights begin;
160: 'T is only daylight that makes sin,
161: Which these dun shades will ne'er report.
162: Hail, goddess of nocturnal sport,
163: Dark-veiled Cotytto, to whom the secret flame
164: Of midnight torches burns! mysterious dame,
165: That ne'er art called but when the dragon womb
166: Of Stygian darkness spets her thickest gloom,
167: And makes one blot of all the air!
168: Stay thy cloudy ebon chair,
169: Wherein thou ridest with Hecat', and befriend
170: Us thy vowed priests, till utmost end
171: Of all thy dues be done, and none left out,
172: Ere the blabbing eastern scout,
173: The nice Morn on the Indian steep,
174: From her cabined loop-hole peep,

175: And to the tell-tale Sun descry
176: Our concealed solemnity.
178: In a LIGHT FANTASTIC round.


180: The Measure.


182: Break off, break off! I feel the different pace
183: Of some chaste footing near about this ground.
184: Run to your shrouds within these brakes and trees;
185: Our number may affright. Some virgin sure
186: (For so I can distinguish by mine art)
187: Benighted in these woods! Now to my charms,
188: And to my wily trains: I shall ere long
189: Be well stocked with as fair a herd as grazed
190: About my mother Circe. Thus I hurl
191: My dazzling spells into the spongy air,
192: Of power to cheat the eye with blear illusion,
193: And give it false presentments, lest the place
194: And my quaint habits breed astonishment,
195: And put the damsel to suspicious flight;
196: Which must not be, for that's against my course.
197: I, under fair pretence of friendly ends,
198: And well-placed words of glozing courtesy,
199: Baited with reasons not unplausible,
200: Wind me into the easy-hearted man,
201: And hug him into snares. When once her eye
202: Hath met the virtue of this magic dust,
203: I shall appear some harmless villager
204: Whom thrift keeps up about his country gear.
205: But here she comes; I fairly step aside,
206: And hearken, if I may her business hear.

from Anne Lady Southwell:

To my worthy Muse, that doth these lines infuse. the Ladye Ridgway.

 ...For it is as great an error to give purges to one in a consumption, as it is to give cordialls to one in a Repletion. Therefore it is necessarye to knowe how the humor aboundes, that soe wee may the boldlyer applye. then, since all are eyther fooles, or phisitians, to escape the former I will take uppon mee to knowe, what hath so distasted your palate against this banquett of soules, devine Poesye. Some wanton Venus or Adonis hath bene cast before your chast eares, whose evill attyre; disgracing this beautiful Nimph, hath unworthyed her in your opinion and; will you, because you see a man madd, wish yourself without Melancholye, which humour is the hand of all the soules facultyes. All exorbitant thinges are monstrous; but bring them agayne to theyr orbicular forme and; motion, and; they will retayne theyr former beautyes. Our reason ought to bee the stickler in this case. who would not skornefully laugh with Micholl, to see the old Prophett daunce; but when wee knowe hee daunced before the Arke, must wee not thinke the Host of heaven was in exultation with him, as well as that of Jerusalem. To heare a Hero and Leander or some such other busye nothing, might bee a meanes to skandalize this art. But can a cloud disgrace the sunne? will you behold Poesye in perfect beautye. Then, see the kingly Prophett, that sweete singer of Israell, explicating the glorye of our god, his power in creating, his mercye in redeeming, his wisdome in preserving; making these three, as it were the Comma, Colon, and Period to every stanzae. Who would not say, the musicall spheares did yeeld a dadencye in his songe, and; in admiration crye out; O never enough to bee admired, devine Poesye.    


Sidney, Defense of Poesie

Their third is, how much it abuseth mens wit, training it to wanton sinfulnesse, and lustfull love. For indeed that is the principall if not onely abuse, I can heare alleadged. They say the Comedies rather teach then reprehend amorous conceits. They say the Lirick is larded with passionat Sonets, the Elegiack weeps the want of his mistresse and that even to the Heroical, Cupid hath ambitiously climed. Alas Love, I would thou couldest as wel defend thy selfe, as thou canst offend others: I would those on whom thou doest attend, could either put thee away, or yeeld good reason why they keepe thee. But grant love of bewtie to be a beastly fault, although it be verie hard, since onely man and no beast hath that gift to discerne bewtie, graunt that lovely name of love to deserve all hatefull reproches, although even some of my maisters the Philosophers spent a good deale of their Lampoyle in setting foorth the excellencie of it, graunt I say, what they will have graunted, that not onelie love, but lust, but vanitie, but if they will list scurrilitie, possesse manie leaves of the Poets bookes, yet thinke I, when this is graunted, they will finde their sentence may with good manners put the last words foremost; and not say, that Poetrie abuseth mans wit, but that mans wit abuseth Poetrie.


But I have lavished out too many words of this playmatter. I do it, because as they are excelling parts of poesy, so is there none so much used in England, and none can be more pitifully ABUSED; which, like an unmannerly daughter, showing a bad education, causeth her mother Poesy`s HONESTY to be called in question.


From Thomas Moffett's _Nobilis_ or_ A View of the Life and Death of a Sidney_,
dedicated to WILLIAM HERBERT: Jan 1594 (?)

"A few, to be sure, were observed to murmur, and to ENVY him [Sidney] so great
preferment; but they were men without worth or virtue, who considered
the public welfare a matter of indifference- fitter, in truth, to
hold a DISTAFF and CARD WOOL AMONG SERVANT GIRLS than at any time to be
considered as RIVALS by Sidney. For no one ever wished ill to the
honor of the Sidney's except him who wished ill to the commonwealth;
no one ever for forsook Philip except him whom the hope that he might at
some time be honourable had also forsaken; and no one ever injured him
except him for whom virtue and piety had no love. He was never so
incensed, however, by the wrongs of malignant or slanderous men but that at the
slightest sign of penitence the heat of his disturbed spirit would
die down, and he would bury all past offenses under a kind of everlasting
OBLIVION. (p.82 Nobilis (The Noble Man), Moffett)


Spindle/Distaff-side as opposed to Spear-side:

'WIL you handle the spindle with Hercules, when you should SHAKE the SPEARE with Achilles?" Lyly _Campaspe_.