NOTES. Page xi. "Lodge's lyrical measures have frequently a flavour of Ronsard."-In a curious work entitled Tarlton's News out of Purgatory, issued anonymously in 1590, we have (what I take to be) a sly parody of Lodge's Ronsardian poetry. The writer (possibly Thomas Nashe) introduces us to a company of poets assembled in Purgatory, and we are entertained with a love-poem that professes to be by Ronsard. As the passage is of some interest, I make no apology for quoting it entire (in the old spelling): "The tale of the Painter being ended, passing a little further, I might see where sat a crew of men that wore Baye garlands on their heads, and they were Poets; amongst which was olde Ennius, Virgill, Iuuenall, Propertius, and wanton Ovid, Martial, Horace, and many moe which had written lascivious verse or other heroicall poems. But above them all I marked old Ronsard, and he sat there with a scroule in his hand, wherein was written the description of Cassandra his mistresse, and because his stile is not common, nor haue I heard our English Poets write in that vaine, marke it, and I will rehearse it, for I haue learned it by hart. RONSARD'S DESCRIPTION OF HIS MISTRIS, WHICH HE WERES IN HIS HANDS IN PURGATORY. Downe I sat, I sat downe, Where Flora had bestowed her graces : Greene it was, It was greene, Far passing other places : For art and nature did combine With sights to witch the gasers eyne. There I sat, I sat there, Viewing of this pride of places : I saw straight, The sweetest fair of all faces: Such a face as did containe I did looke, Looke did I, And there I saw Apollos wyers: They were bright; With them Auroras head he tires. But this I wondred, how that now They shadowed in Cassanders b[r]ow. Still I gazde, I gazde still, Spying Lunas mylke white glasse: Fine commixt, With the mornings ruddy blase: This white and red their seating seeks Upon Cassandraes smiling cheekes. Two stars then, Then two stars, Passing Sun or Moone in shine, Appearde there, There appearde, And were forsooth my mistris eine, From whence prowd Cupid threw his fire Brests she had, She had breasts, White like the silver dove; Lie there did, There did lye, Cupid overgrowne with love : And in the vale that parts the plaine Pitcht his tent there to remaine. This was she, She was this, The fairest fair that e'er I see. I did muse, Muse did I, How such a creature fo[u]nd could be: A voice replied from the Aire, Shee alone and none so faire." There can be little doubt that this poem is a clever parody, not to be taken seriously. Tarlton's News was licensed for publication in June 1590; and Lodge's Rosalynd was licensed later in the same year. But, after the fashion of the time, Rosalynd had doubtless been circulated in MS. before publication. If we turn to Rosalynd, I think that we shall have no difficulty in discovering the poem at which the parodist was poking his fun. It was surely "Montanus' Sonnet," beginning: "Phoebe sat, Sweet she sat, Sweet sat Phoebe when I saw her. Phoebe sat By a fount, Sitting by a fount I spied her," &c. (p. 268). The repetition "Phoebe sat, Sweet she sat," is risky; but "Down I sat, I sat down," is intentionally absurd. Lodge's poem is not written in one of Ronsard's metres; but it certainly has something of the Ronsardian spirit. At least the jocular author of Tarlton's News discovered a resemblance between Ronsard and Lodge. It would be interesting to discover what debt our old lyrists really owed to Ronsard and his circle. Page 3. "Back and side go bare, go bare.”—Dyce, in his edition of Skelton's Works, I. vii-x, gave an early MS. version of this famous song. The MS. copy, which Dyce judged to be of an earlier date than 1575 (the year of the publication of Gammer Gurton's Needle), differs considerably from the printed copy :— "backe & syde goo bare goo bare bothe hande & fote goo colde but belly god sende the good ale inowghe but yf that I may have trwly good ale my belly full I shall looke lyke one by swete sainte Johnn were shoron agaynste the woole take yow no care |