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George Puttenham - The Arte of English Poesie

G >> George Puttenham >> The Arte of English Poesie




So might the Poesie of _Caesar_ haue bene altered thus.
_I came, and I saw, and I ouercame._

One wrote these verses after the same sort,
_For in her mynde no thought there is,
But how she may be true to is:
And tenders thee and all thy heale,
And wisheth both thy health and weale:
And is thine owne, and so she sayes,
And cares for thee ten thousand wayes._

[Sidenote: _Irmus_, or the Long loose.]
Ye haue another maner of speach drawen out at length and going all after
one tenure and with an imperfit sence till you come to the last word or
verse which concludes the whole premisses with a perfit sence & full
periode, the Greeks call it [_Irmus_,] I call him the [_long loose_] thus
appearing in a dittie of Sir _Thomas Wyat_ where he describes the diuers
distempers of his bed.
_The restlesse state renuer of my smart,
The labours salue increasing my sorrow:
The bodies ease and troubles of my hart,
Quietour of mynde mine unquiet foe:
Forgetter of paine remembrer of my woe,
The place of sleepe wherein I do but wake:
Besprent with teares my bed I thee forsake._

Ye see here how ye can gather no perfection of sence in all this dittie
till ye come to the last verse in these wordes _my bed I thee forsake_.
And in another Sonet of _Petrarcha_ which was thus Englished by the same
Sir _Thomas Wyat_.
_If weaker care of sodaine pale collour,
If many sighes with little speach to plaine:
Now ioy now woe, if they my ioyes distaine,
For hope of small, if much to feare therefore,
Be signe of loue then do I loue againe._

Here all the whole sence of the dittie is suspended till ye come to the
last three wordes, _then do I loue againe_, which finisheth the song with
a full and perfit sence.

[Sidenote: _Epitheton_, or the Qualifier.]
When ye will speake giuing euery person or thing besides his proper name a
qualitie by way of addition whether it be of good or of bad it is a
figuratiue speach of audible alteration, so is it also of sence as to say.
_Fierce Achilles, wise Nestor, wilie Vlysses,
Diana the chast and thou louely Venus:
With thy blind boy that almost neuer misses,
But hits our hartes when he levels at vs._

Or thus commending the Isle of great Brittaine.
_Albion hugest of Westerne Ilands all,
Soyle of sweete ayre and of good store:
God send we see thy glory neuer fall,
But rather dayly to grow more and more._

Or as we sang of our Soueraigne Lady giuing her these Attributes besides
her proper name.
_Elizatbeth regent of the great Brittaine Ile,
Honour of all regents and of Queenes._

But if we speake thus not expressing her proper name _Elizabeth_, videl.
_The English Diana, the great Britton mayde._

Then is it not by _Epitheton_ or figure of Attribution but by the figures
_Antonomasia_, or _Periphrasis_.

[Sidenote: _Endiadis_, or the Figure of Twinnes.]
Ye haue yet another manner of speach when ye will seeme to make two of
one, not thereunto constrained, which therefore we call the figure of
Twynnes, the Greekes _Endiadis_ thus.
_Not you coy dame your lowrs nor your lookes._

For [_your lowring lookes_] And as one of our ordinary rimers said,
_Of fortune nor her frowning face,
I am nothing agast._

In stead of [_fortunes frowning face_.] One praysing the Neapolitans for
good men at armes, said by the figure of Twynnes thus.
_A proud people and wise and valiant,
Fiercely fighting with horses and with barbes:
By whole prowes the Romain Prince did daunt,
Wild Affricanes and the lawlesse Alarbes:
The Nubiens marching with their armed cartes,
And sleaing a farre with venim, and with dartes._

Where ye see this figure of Twynnes twise vsed, once when he said _horses
and barbes_ for barbd horses: againe when he saith with _venim_ and with
_dartes_ for venimous dartes.




_CHAP. XVII._

_Of the figures which we call Sensable, because they alter and affect the
minde by alteration of sence, and first in single wordes._


The eare hauing receiued his due satisfaction by the _auricular_ figures,
now must the minde also be seured, with his naturall delight by figures
_sensible_ such as by alteration of intendments affect the courage, and
geue a good liking to the conceit. And first, single words haue their
sence and vnderstanding altered and figured many wayes, to wit, by
transport, abuse, crosse-naming, new naming, change of name. This will
seeme very darke to you, vnlesse it be otherwise explaned more
particularly: and first of _Transport_.

[Sidenote: Metaphora, or the Figure of transporte.]
There is a kinde of wresting of a single word from his owne right
signification, to another not so naturall, but yet of some affinitie or
conueniencie with it, as to say, _I cannot digest your vnkinde words_, for
I cannot take them in good part: or as the man of law said, _I feele you
not_, for I vnderstand not your case, because he had not his fee in his
hand. Or as another said to a mouthy Aduocate, _why barkest thou at me so
sore?_ Or to call the top of a tree, or of a hill, the crowne of a tree or
of a hill: for in deede _crowne_ is the highest ornament of a Princes
head, made like a close garland, or els the top of a mans head, where the
haire windes about, and because such terme is not applyed naturally to a
tree or to a hill, but is transported from a mans head to a hill or tree,
therefore it is called by _metaphore_, or the figure of _transport_. And
three causes moue vs to vse this figure, one for necessitie or want of a
better word, thus:
_As the drie ground that thirstes after a showr
Seems to reioyce when it is well wet,
And speedely brings foorth both grasse and flowr,
If lacke of sunne or season doo not let._

Here for want of an apter and more naturall word to declare the drie
temper of the earth, it is said to thirst & to reioyce, which is onley
proper to liuing creatures, and yet being so inuerted, doth not so much
swerue from the true sence but that euery man can easilie conceiue the
meaning thereof.

Againe, we vse it for pleasure and ornament of our speach, as thus in an
Epitaph of our owne making, to the honourable memorie of a deere friend,
Sir _Iohn Throgmorton_, knight, Iustice of Chester, and a man of many
commendable vertues.
_Whom vertue rerde, enuy hath ouerthrowen
And Iudged full low, vnder this marble stone:
Ne neuer were his values so well knowen,
Whilest he liued here, as now that he is gone.

Here these words, _rered, overthrowen_, and _lodged_, are inuerted, &
_metaphorically_ applyed, not vpon necessitie, but for ornament onely,
afterward againe in these verses.
_No sunne by day that euer saw him rest
Free from the toyles of his so busie charge,
No night that harbourd rankor in his breast,
Nor merry moode made reason runne at large._

In these verses the inuersion or metaphore, lyeth in these words, _saw,
harbourd, run:_ which naturally are applyed to liuing things, & not to
insensible: as the _sunne_, or the _night_: & yet they approach so neere,
& so conueniently, as the speech is thereby made more commendable. Againe,
in moe verses of the same Epitaph, thus.
_His head a source of grauitie and sence,
His memory a shop of ciuill arte,
His tongue a streame of sugred eloquence,
Wisdome and meekenes lay mingled in his harte,_

In which verses ye see that these words, _source, shop, find, sugred_, are
inuerted from their owne signification to another, not altogether so
naturall, but of much affinitie with it.

Then also do we it sometimes to enforce a sence and make the word more
significatiue: as thus,
_I burne in loue, I freese in deadly hate
I swimme in hope, and sinke in deepe dispaire._

These examples I haue the willinger giuen you to set foorth the nature and
vse of your figure metaphore, which of any other being choisly made, is
the most commendable and most common.

[Sidenote: _Catachresis_, or the Figure of abuse]
But if for lacke of naturall and proper terme or worde we take another,
neither naturall nor proper and do vntruly applie it to the thing which we
would seeme to expresse, and without any iust inconuenience, it is not
then spoken by this figure _Metaphore_ or of _inuersion_ as before, but by
plaine abuse as he that bad his man go into his library and set him his
bowe and arrowes, for in deede there was neuer a booke there to be found,
or as one should in reproch say to a poore man, thou raskall knaue, where
_raskall_ is properly the hunters terme giuen to young deere, leane & out
of season, and not to people: or as one said very pretily in this verse.
_I lent my loue to losse, and gaged my life in vaine._

Whereas this worde _lent_ is properly of mony or some such other thing, as
men do commonly borrow, for vse to be repayed againe, and being applied to
loue is vtterly abused, and yet very commendably spoken by vertue of this
figure. For he that loueth and is not beloued againe; hath no lesse wrong,
that he that lendeth and is neuer repayde.

[Sidenote: _Metonimia_, or the Misnamer]
Now doth this vnderstanding or secret conceyt reach many times to the only
nomination of persons or things in their names, as of men, or mountaines,
seas, countries and such like, in which respect the wrong naming, or
otherwise naming of them then is due, carieth not onely an alteration of
sence but a necessitie of intendment figuratiuely, as when we cal loue by
the name of _Venus_, fleshly lust by the name of _Cupid_, bicause they
were supposed by the auncient poets to be authors and kindlers of loue and
lust: _Vulcane_ for fire, _Ceres_ for bread: _Bacchus_ for wine by the
same reason; also if one should say to a skilfull craftesman knowen for a
glutton or common drunkard, that had spent all his goods on riot and
delicate fare.
_Thy hands they made thee rich, thy pallat made thee poore._

It is ment, his trauaile and arte made him wealthie, his riotous life had
made him a beggar: and as one that boasted of his housekeeping, said that
neuer a yeare passed ouer his head, that he drank not in his house euery
moneth foure tonnes of beere, & one hogshead of wine, meaning not the
caskes, or vessels, but that quantitie which they conteyned. These and
such other speaches, where ye take the name of the Author for the thing it
selfe, or the thing conteining, for that which is contained, & in many
other cases do as it were wromg name the person or the thing. So
neuerthelesse as it may be vnderstood, it is by the figure _metonymia_, or
misnamer.

[Sidentote: _Antonomasia_, or the Surnamer.]
And if this manner of naming of persons or things be not by way of
misnaming as before, but by a conuenient difference, and such as is true
or esteemed and likely to be true, it is then called not _metonimia_, but
_antonomasia_, or the Surnamer, (not the misnamer, which might extend to
any other thing aswell as to a person) as he that would say: not king
Philip of Spaine, but the Westerne king, because his dominion lieth the
furdest West of any Christen prince: and the French king the great
_Vallois_, because so is the name of his house, or the Queene of England,
_The maiden Queene_, for that is her hiest peculiar among all the Queenes
of the world, or as we said in one of our _Partheniades_, the _Bryton
mayde_, because she is the most great and famous mayden of all Brittayne:
thus,
_But in chaste stile, am borne as I weene
To blazon foorth the Brytton mayden Queene._

So did our forefathers call _Henry the first, Beauclerke, Edmund Ironside,
Richard coeur de lion: Edward the Confessor_, and we of her Maiestie
_Elisabeth_ the peasible.

[Sidenote: _Onomatopeia_, or the New namer.]
Then also is the sence figuratiue when we deuise a new name to any thing
consonant, as neere as we can to the nature thereof, as to say: _flashing
of lightning, clashing of blades, clinking of fetters, chinking of money_:
& as the poet _Virgil_ said of the sounding a trumpet, _ta-ra-tant,
taratantara_, or as we giue special names to the voices of dombe beasts,
as to say, a horse neigheth, a lyon brayes, a swine grunts, a hen
cackleth, a dogge howles, and a hundreth mo such new names as any man hath
libertie to deuise, so it be fittie for the thing which he couets to
expresse.

[Sidenote: _Epitheton_, or the Quallifier,
otherwise the figure of Attribution.]
Your _Epitheton_ or _qualifier_, whereof we spake before, placing him
among the figures _auricular_, now because he serues also to alter and
enforce the sence, we will say somewhat more of him in this place, and do
conclude that he must be apt and proper for the thing he is added vnto, &
not disagreable or repugnant, as one that said: _darke disdaine_ and
_miserable pride_, very absurdly, for disdaine or disdained things cannot
be said darke, but rather bright and cleere, because they be beholden and
much looked vpon, and pride is rather enuied then pitied or miserable,
vnlessse it be in Christian charitie, which helpeth not the terme in this
case. Some of our vulgar writers take great pleasure in giuing Epithets
and do it almost to euery word which may receiue them, and should not be
so, vea though they were neuer so propre and apt, for sometimes wordes
suffered to go single, do giue greater sence and grace than words
quallified by attributions do.

[Sidenote: _Metalepsis_, or the Farreset.]
But the sence is much altered & the hearers conceit strangly entangled by
the figure _Metalepsis_, which I call the farset, as when we had rather
fetch a word a great way off then to vse one nerer hand to expresse the
matter aswel & plainer. And it seemeth the deuiser of this figure had a
desire to please women rather then men: for we vse to say by manner of
Prouerbe: things farreset and deare bought are good for Ladies: so in this
manner of speach we vfe it, leaping ouer the heads of a great many words,
we take one that is furdest off, to vtter our matter by: as _Medea_
cursing hir first acquaintance with prince _Iason_, who had very vnkindly
forsaken her, said:
_Woe worth the mountaine that the maste bare
Which was the first causer of all my care._

Where she might aswell haue said, woe worth our first meeting, or woe
worth the time that _Iason_ arriued with his ship at my fathers cittie in
_Colchos_, when he tooke me away with him, & not so farre off as to curse
the mountaine that bare the pinetree, that made the mast, that bare the
sailes, that the ship sailed with, which caried her away. A pleasant
Gentleman came into a Ladies nursery, and saw her for her owne pleasure
rocking of her young child in the cradle, and sayd to her:
_I speake it Madame without any mocke,
Many a such cradell may I see you rocke._

Gods passion hourson said she, would thou haue me beare mo children yet,
no _Madame_ quoth the Gentleman, but I would haue you liue long, that ye
might the better pleasure your friends, for his meaning was that as euery
cradle signified a new borne childe, & euery child the leasure of one
yeares birth, & many yeares a long life: so by wishing her to rocke many
cradels of her owne, he wished her long life. _Virgill_ said:
_Post multas mea regna videns murabor aristas._

Thus in English.
_After many a stubble shall I come
And wonder at the sight of my kingdome._

By stubble the Poet vnderftoode yeares, for haruests come but once euery
yeare, at least wayes with vs in Europe. Thus is spoken by the figure of
farre-set _Metalepsis_.

[Sidenote: _Emphasis_, or the Renforcer.]
And one notable meane to affect the minde, is to inforce the sence of any
thing by a word of more than ordinary efficacie, and neuertheles is not
apparant, but as it were, secretly implyed, as he that laid thus of a
faire Lady.
_O rare beautie, o grace, and curtesie_.

And by a very euill man thus.
_O sinne it selfe, not wretch, but wretchednes_.

Whereas if he had said thus, _O gratious, courteous and beautifull woman_:
and, _O sinfull and wretched man_, it had bene all to one effect, yet not
with such force and efficacie to speake by the denominatiue, as by the
thing it selfe.

[Sidenote: _Liptote_, or the Moderatour.]
As by the former figure we vse to enforce our sence, so by another we
temper our sence with wordes of such moderation, as in appearaunce it
abateth it but not in deede, and is by the figure _Liptote_, which
therefore I call the _Moderator_, and becomes us many times better to
speake in that sort quallified, than if we spake it by more forcible
termes, and neuertheles is equipolent in sence, thus.
_I know you hate me not, nor wish me any ill._

Meaning in deede that he loued him very well and dearely, and yet the
words doe not expresse so much, though they purport so much. Or if you
would say; I am not ignorant, for I know well inough. Such a man is no
foole, meaning in deede that he is a very wise man.

[Sidenote: _Paradiastole_, or the Curry-fauell.]
But if such moderation of words tend to flattery, or soothing, or
excusing, it is by the figure _Paradiastole_, which therfore nothing
improperly we call the _Curry-fauell_, as when we make the best of a bad
thing, or turne a signification to the more plausible sence: as, to call
an vnthrift, a liberall Gentleman: the foolish-hardy, valiant or
couragious: the niggard, thriftie: a great riot, or outrage, an youthfull
pranke, and such like termes: moderating and abating the force of the
matter by craft, and for a pleasing purpose, as appeareth by these verses
of ours, teaching in what cases it may commendably be vsed by Courtiers.

[Sidenote: _Meiosis_, or the Disabler.]
But if you diminish and abbase a thing by way of spight or malice, as it
were to depraue it, such speach is by the figure _Meiosis_ or the
_disabler_ spoken of hereafter in the place of _sententious_ figures.
_A great mountaine as bigge as a molehill,
A heauy burthen perdy, as a pound of fethers._

[Sidenote: _Tapinosis_, or the Abbaser.]
But if ye abase your thing or matter by ignorance or errour in the choise
of your word, then is it by vicious maner of speach called _Tapinosis_,
whereof ye shall haue examples in the chapter of vices hereafter folowing.

[Sidenote: _Synecdoche_, or the Figure of quick conceite.]
Then againe if we vse such a word (as many times we doe) by which we driue
the hearer to conceiue more or lesse or beyond or otherwise then the
letter expresseth, and it be not by vertue of the former figures
_Metaphore_ and _Abase_ and the rest, the Greeks then call it
_Synecdoche_, the Latines _sub intellectio_ or vnderftanding, for by part
we are enforced to vnderstand the whole, by the whole part, by many things
one thing, by one, many, by a thing precedent, a thing consequent, and
generally one thing out of another by maner of contrariety to the word
which is spoken, _aliudex alio_, which because it seemeth to aske a good,
quick, and pregnant capacitie, and is not for an ordinarie or dull wit so
to do, I chose to call him the figure not onely of conceit after the
Greeke originall, but also of quick conceite. As for example we will giue
none because we will speake of him againe in another place, where he is
ranged among the figures _sensable_ apperteining to clauses.




_CHAP. XVIII._

_Of sensable figures altering and affecting the mynde by alteration of
sense or intendements in whole clauses or speaches._


As by the last remembred figures the sence of single wordes is altered, so
by these that follow is that of whole and entire speach: and first by the
Courtly figure _Allegoria_, which is when we speake one thing and thinke
another, and that our wordes and our meanings meete not. The vse of this
figure is so large, and his vertue of so great efficacie as it is supposed
no man can pleasantly vtter and perswade without it, but in effect is sure
neuer or very seldome to thriue and prosper in the world, that cannot
skilfully put in vse, in somuch as not onely euery common Courtier, but
also the grauest Counsellour, yea and the most noble and wisest Prince of
them all are many times enforced to vse it, by example (say they) of the
great Emperour who had it vsually in his mouth to say, _Qui nescit
dissimulare nescit regnare_. Of this figure therefore which for his
duplicitie we call the figure of [_false semblant or dissimulation_] we
will speake first as of the chief ringleader and captaine of all other
figures, either in the Poeticall or oratorie science.

[Sidenote: _Allegoria_, or the Figure of false semblant.]
And ye shall know that we may dissemble, I meane speake otherwise then we
thinke, in earnest as well as in sport, vnder couert and darke termes, and
in learned and apparant speaches, in short sentences, and by long ambage
and circumstance of wordes, and finally aswell when we lye as when we tell
truth. To be short euery speach wrested from his owne naturall
signification to another not altogether so naturall is a kinde of
dissimulation, because the wordes beare contrary countenaunce to
th'intent. But properly & in his principall vertue _Allegoria_ is when we
do speake in sence translatiue and wrested from the owne signification,
neuerthelesse applied to another not altogether contrary, but hauing much
coueniencie with it as before we said of the metaphore: as for example if
we should call the common wealth, a shippe; the Prince a Pilot, the
Counsellours mariners, the stormes warres, the calme and [_hauen_] peace,
this is spoken all in allegorie: and because such inuersion of sence in
one single worde is by the figure _Metaphore_, of whom we spake before,
and this manner of inuersion extending to whole and large speaches, it
maketh the figure _allegorie_ to be called a long and perpetuall
Metaphore. A noble man after a whole yeares absence from his ladie, sent
to know how she did, and whether she remayned affected toward him as she
was when he left her.
_Louely Lady I long full sore to heare,
If ye remaine the same, I left you last yeare._

To whom she answered in _allegorie_ other two verses:
_My louing Lorde I will well that ye wist,
The thred is spon, that neuer shall untwist._

Meaning, that her loue was so stedfast and constant toward him as no time
or occasion could alter it. _Virgill_ in his shepeherdly poemes called
_Eglogues_ vsed as rusticall but fit _allegorie_ for the purpose thus:
_Claudite iam riuos pueri sat prata biberunt._

Which I English thus:
_Stop up your streames (my lads) the medes haue drunk ther fill._

As much to say, leaue of now, yee haue talked of the matter inough: for
the shepheards guise in many places is by opening certaine sluces to water
their pastures, so as when they are wet inough they shut them againe: this
application is full Allegoricke.

Ye haue another manner of Allegorie not full, but mixt, as he that wrate
thus:
_The cloudes of care haue coured all my coste,
The stormes of strife, do threaten to appeare:
The waues of woe, wherein my ship is toste.
Haue broke the banks, where lay my life so deere.
Chippes of ill chance, are fallen amidst my choise,
To marre the minde that ment for to reioyce._

I call him not a full Allegorie, but mixt, bicause he discouers withall
what the _cloud, storme, waue_, and the rest are, which in a full
allegorie should not be discouered, but left at large to the readers
iudgement and coniecture.

[Sidenote: _Enigma_, or the Riddle.]
We dissemble againe vnder couert and darkes speaches, when we speake by
way of riddle (_Enigma_) of which the sence can hardly be picked out, but
by the parties owne assoile, as he that said:
_It is my mother well I wot,
And yet the daughter that I begot._

Meaning it by the ise which is made of frozen water, the same
being molten by the sunne or fire, makes water againe.

My mother had an old woman in her nurserie, who in the winter nights would
put vs forth many prety ridles, whereof this is one:
_I haue a thing and rough it is
And in the midst a hole I wis:
There came a yong man with his ginne,
And he put it a handfull in_.

The good old Gentlewoman would tell vs that were children how it was meant
by a furd glooue. Some other naughtie body would peraduenture haue
construed it not halfe so mannerly. The riddle is pretie but that it
holdes too much of the _Cachemphaton_ or foule speach and may be drawen to
a reprobate sence.

[Sidenote: _Parimia_, or Prouerb.]
We dissemble after a sort, when we speake by comon prouerbs, or, as we vse
to call them, old said sawes, as thus:
_As the olde cocke crowes so doeth the chick:
A bad Cooke that cannot his owne fingers lick._

Meaning by the first, that the yong learne by the olde, either to be good
or euill in their behauiors: by the second, that he is not to be counted a
wise man, who being in authority, and hauing the administration of many
good and great things, will not serue his owne turne and his friends
whilest he may, & many such prouerbiall speeches: as _Totnesse is turned
French_, for a strange alteration: _Skarborow warning_, for a sodaine
commandement, allowing no respect or delay to bethinke a man of his
busines. Note neuerthelesse a diuersitie, for the two last examples be
prouerbs, the two first prouebiall speeches.

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