Volume Ix Part 25 (1/2)

But softly may our honour's ashes rest, That lie by merry Chaucer's n.o.ble chest.

But, I pray thee, proceed briefly in thy censure, that I may be proud of myself; as in the first, so in the last, my censure may jump with thine.--Henry Constable, Samuel Daniel,[44] Thomas Lodge, Thomas Watson.

JUDICIO.

Sweet Constable[45] doth take the wond'ring ear, And lays it up in willing prisonment: Sweet honey-dropping Daniel doth wage War with the proudest big Italian, That melts his heart in sugar'd sonneting; Only let him more sparingly make use Of others' wit, and use his own the more, That well may scorn base imitation.

For Lodge[46] and Watson,[47] men of some desert, Yet subject to a critic's marginal; Lodge for his oar in ev'ry paper boat, He, that turns over Galen ev'ry day, To sit and simper Euphues' Legacy.[48]

INGENIOSO.

Michael Drayton?

JUDICIO.

Drayton's sweet muse is like a sanguine dye, Able to ravish the rash gazer's eye.

INGENIOSO.

However, he wants one true note of a poet of our times, and that is this: he cannot swagger it well in a tavern, nor domineer in a hothouse. John Davis?[49]

JUDICIO.

Acute John Davis, I affect thy rhymes, That jerk in hidden charms these looser times; Thy plainer verse, thy unaffected vein, Is graced with a fair and sweeping[50] train.

INGENIOSO.

Lock and Hudson?[51]

JUDICIO.

Lock and Hudson, sleep, you quiet shavers, among the shavings of the press, and let your books lie in some old nooks amongst old boots and shoes; so you may avoid my censure.

INGENIOSO. Why, then, clap a lock on their feet, and turn them to commons. John Marston?[52]

JUDICIO.

What, Monsieur Kinsayder, lifting up your leg, and p.i.s.sing against the world? put up, man, put up, for shame!

Methinks he is a ruffian in his style, Withouten bands or garters' ornament: He quaffs a cup of Frenchman's Helicon; Then roister doister in his oily terms, Cuts, thrusts, and foins, at whomsoever he meets, And strews about Ram-Alley meditations.

Tut, what cares he for modest close-couch'd terms, Cleanly to gird our looser libertines?

Give him plain naked words, stripp'd from their s.h.i.+rts, That might beseem plain-dealing Aretine.

Ay, there is one, that backs a paper steed, And manageth a penknife gallantly, Strikes his poinardo at a b.u.t.ton's breadth, Brings the great battering-ram of terms to towns; And, at first volley of his cannon-shot, Batters the walls of the old fusty world.

INGENIOSO.

Christopher Marlowe?

JUDICIO.

Marlowe was happy in his buskin'd muse; Alas! unhappy in his life and end: Pity it is that wit so ill should dwell Wit lent from heav'n, but vices sent from h.e.l.l.[53]

INGENIOSO.

Our theatre hath lost, Pluto hath got, A tragic penman for a dreary plot.

Benjamin Jonson?

JUDICIO.

The wittiest fellow of a bricklayer in England.

INGENIOSO.