Part 38

Dacus, with some good colour and pretence, Terms his love's beauty "silent eloquence;" For she doth lay more colours on her face Than ever Tully us'd his speech to grace.

FOOTNOTES:

Dyce shows that Samuel Daniel is meant by Dacus (who has already been ridiculed in Ep. xxx.). In Daniel's Complaint of Rosamond (1592) are the lines:--

"Ah, beauty, syren, faire enchanting good, Sweet silent rhetorique of perswading eyes, Dumb eloquence, whose power doth move the blood More than the words or wisedome of the wise," &c.

Perhaps there is an allusion to this epigram in Marston's fourth satire:--

"What, shall not Rosamond or Gaveston Ope their sweet lips without detraction? But must our modern critticks envious eye Seeme thus to quote some grosse deformity, Where art not error shineth in their stile, But error and no art doth thee beguile?"

IN MARCUM. XLVI.

Why dost thou, Marcus, in thy misery Rail and blaspheme, and call the heavens unkind? The heavens do owe no kindness unto thee, Thou hast the heavens so little in thy mind; For in thy life thou never usest prayer But at primero, to encounter fair.

FOOTNOTES:

So eds. B, C.--Ed. A "draw" (Epigram xlv.-xlviii. are not in the MS.)

MEDITATIONS OF A GULL. XLVII.

See, yonder melancholy gentleman, Which, hood-wink'd with his hat, alone doth sit! Think what he thinks, and tell me, if you can, What great affairs trouble his little wit. He thinks not of the war 'twixt France and Spain, Whether it be for Europe's good or ill, Nor whether the Empire can itself maintain Against the Turkish power encroaching still; Nor what great town in all the Netherlands The States determine to besiege this spring, 10 Nor how the Scottish policy now stands, Nor what becomes of the Irish mutining. But he doth seriously bethink him whether Of the gull'd people he be more esteem'd For his long cloak or for his great black feather By which each gull is now a gallant deem'd; Or of a journey he deliberates To Paris-garden, Cock-pit, or the play; Or how to steal a dog he meditates, Or what he shall unto his mistress say. Yet with these thoughts he thinks himself most fit To be of counsel with a king for wit.

FOOTNOTES:

Ended in 1598 by the peace of Vervins.

The war between Austria and Turkey was brought to a close in 1606.

A reference to Tyrone's insurrection, 1595-1602.

So Isham copy.--Not in other eds.

AD MUSAM. XLVIII.

Peace, idle Muse, have done! for it is time, Since lousy Ponticus envies my fame, And swears the better sort are much to blame To make me so well known for my ill rhyme. Yet Banks his horse is better known than he; So are the camels and the western hog, And so is Lepidus his printed dog: Why doth not Ponticus their fames envy? Besides, this Muse of mine and the black feather Grew both together fresh in estimation; 10 And both, grown stale, were cast away together: What fame is this that scarce lasts out a fashion? Only this last in credit doth remain, That from henceforth each bastard cast-forth rhyme, Which doth but savour of a libel vein, Shall call me father, and be thought my crime; So dull, and with so little sense endued, Is my gross-headed judge the multitude.

J. D.

FOOTNOTES:

See note, p. 232.

Dyce points out that by Lepidus is meant Sir John Harington, whose dog Bungey is represented in a compartment of the engraved title-page of the translation of Orlando Furioso, 1591. In his epigrams (Book III. Ep. 21) Harington refers to this epigram of Davies, and expresses himself greatly pleased at the compliment paid to his dog.

IGNOTO.

I love thee not for sacred chastity,-- Who loves for that?--nor for thy sprightly wit; I love thee not for thy sweet modesty, Which makes thee in perfection's throne to sit; I love thee not for thy enchanting eye, Thy beauty['s] ravishing perfection; I love thee not for unchaste luxury, Nor for thy body's fair proportion; I love thee not for that my soul doth dance And leap with pleasure, when those lips of thine Give musical and graceful utterance To some (by thee made happy) poet's line; I love thee not for voice or slender small: But wilt thou know wherefore? fair sweet, for all.

Faith, wench, I cannot court thy sprightly eyes, With the base-viol plac'd between my thighs; I cannot lisp, nor to some fiddle sing, Nor run upon a high-stretch'd minikin; I cannot whine in puling elegies, Entombing Cupid with sad obsequies; I am not fashion'd for these amorous times, To court thy beauty with lascivious rhymes; I cannot dally, caper, dance, and sing, Oiling my saint with supple sonneting; I cannot cross my arms, or sigh "Ay me, Ay me, forlorn!" egregious foppery! I cannot buss thy fist, play with thy hair, Swearing by Jove, "thou art most debonair!" Not I, by cock! but shall tell thee roundly,-- Hark in thine ear,--zounds, I can (----) thee soundly.

Sweet wench, I love thee: yet I will not sue, Or show my love as musky courtiers do; I'll not carouse a health to honour thee, In this same bezzling drunken courtesy, And, when all's quaff'd, eat up my bousing-glass In glory that I am thy servile ass; Nor will I wear a rotten Bourbon lock, As some sworn peasant to a female smock. Well-featur'd lass, thou know'st I love thee dear: Yet for thy sake I will not bore mine ear, To hang thy dirty silken shoe-tires there; Nor for thy love will I once gnash a brick, Or some pied colours in my bonnet stick: But, by the chaps of hell, to do thee good, I'll freely spend my thrice-decocted blood.

FOOTNOTES: