A Defence of Poesie and Poems
will find their sentence may, with good manners, put the last words
foremost; and not say that poetry abuseth man’s wit, but that man’s wit
abuseth poetry. For I will not deny but that man’s wit may make poesy,
which should be φραστικὴ, which some learned have defined, figuring forth
good things, to be φανταστικὴ, which doth contrariwise infect the fancy
with unworthy objects; as the painter, who should give to the eye either
some excellent perspective, or some fine picture fit for building or
fortification, or containing in it some notable example, as Abraham
sacrificing his son Isaac, Judith killing Holofernes, David fighting with
Goliath, may leave those, and please an ill-pleased eye with wanton shows
of better-hidden matters.
But, what! shall the abuse of a thing make the right use odious? Nay,
truly, though I yield that poesy may not only be abused, but that being
abused, by the reason of his sweet charming force, it can do more hurt
than any other army of words, yet shall it be so far from concluding,
that the abuse shall give reproach to the abused, that, contrariwise, it
is a good reason, that whatsoever being abused, doth most harm, being
rightly used (and upon the right use each thing receives his title) doth
most good. Do we not see skill of physic, the best rampire {68} to our
often-assaulted bodies, being abused, teach poison, the most violent
destroyer? Doth not knowledge of law, whose end is to even and right all
things, being abused, grow the crooked fosterer of horrible injuries?
Doth not (to go in the highest) God’s word abused breed heresy, and His
name abused become blasphemy? Truly, a needle cannot do much hurt, and
as truly (with leave of ladies be it spoken) it cannot do much good.
With a sword thou mayest kill thy father, and with a sword thou mayest
defend thy prince and country; so that, as in their calling poets fathers
of lies, they said nothing, so in this their argument of abuse, they
prove the commendation.
They allege herewith, that before poets began to be in price, our nation
had set their heart’s delight upon action, and not imagination; rather
doing things worthy to be written, than writing things fit to be done.
What that before time was, I think scarcely Sphynx can tell; since no
memory is so ancient that gives not the precedence to poetry. And
certain it is, that, in our plainest homeliness, yet never was the Albion
nation without poetry. Marry, this argument, though it be levelled
against poetry, yet it is indeed a chain-shot against all learning or
bookishness, as they commonly term it. Of such mind were certain Goths,
of whom it is written, that having in the spoil of a famous city taken a
fair library, one hangman, belike fit to execute the fruits of their
wits, who had murdered a great number of bodies, would have set fire in
it. “No,” said another, very gravely, “take heed what you do, for while
they are busy about those toys, we shall with more leisure conquer their
countries.” This, indeed, is the ordinary doctrine of ignorance, and
many words sometimes I have heard spent in it; but because this reason is
generally against all learning as well as poetry, or rather all learning
but poetry; because it were too large a digression to handle it, or at
least too superfluous, since it is manifest that all government of action
is to be gotten by knowledge, and knowledge best by gathering many
knowledges, which is reading; I only say with Horace, to him that is of
that opinion,
“Jubeo stultum esse libenter—” {69}
for as for poetry itself, it is the freest from this, objection, for
poetry is the companion of camps. I dare undertake, Orlando Furioso, or
honest King Arthur, will never displease a soldier: but the quiddity of
“ens” and “prima materia” will hardly agree with a corslet. And,
therefore, as I said in the beginning, even Turks and Tartars are
delighted with poets. Homer, a Greek, flourished before Greece
flourished; and if to a slight conjecture a conjecture may be opposed,
truly it may seem, that as by him their learned men took almost their
first light of knowledge, so their active men receive their first notions
of courage. Only Alexander’s example may serve, who by Plutarch is
accounted of such virtue that fortune was not his guide but his
footstool; whose acts speak for him, though Plutarch did not; indeed, the
phoenix of warlike princes. This Alexander left his schoolmaster, living
Aristotle, behind him, but took dead Homer with him. He put the
philosopher Callisthenes to death, for his seeming philosophical, indeed
mutinous, stubbornness; but the chief thing he was ever heard to wish for
was that Homer had been alive. He well found he received more bravery of
mind by the pattern of Achilles, than by hearing the definition of
fortitude. And, therefore, if Cato misliked Fulvius for carrying Ennius
with him to the field, it may be answered that if Cato misliked it the
noble Fulvius liked it, or else he had not done it; for it was not the
excellent Cato Uticensis whose authority I would much more have
reverenced, but it was the former, in truth a bitter punisher of faults,
but else a man that had never sacrificed to the Graces. He misliked, and
cried out against, all Greek learning, and yet, being fourscore years
old, began to learn it, belike fearing that Pluto understood not Latin.
Indeed, the Roman laws allowed no person to be carried to the wars but he
that was in the soldiers’ roll. And, therefore, though Cato misliked his
unmustered person, he misliked not his work. And if he had, Scipio
Nasica (judged by common consent the best Roman) loved him: both the
other Scipio brothers, who had by their virtues no less surnames than of
Asia and Afric, so loved him that they caused his body to be buried in
their sepulture. So, as Cato’s authority being but against his person,
and that answered with so far greater than himself, is herein of no
validity.
But {70} now, indeed, my burthen is great, that Plato’s name is laid upon
me, whom, I must confess, of all philosophers I have ever esteemed most
worthy of reverence; and with good reason, since of all philosophers he
is the most poetical; yet if he will defile the fountain out of which his
flowing streams have proceeded, let us boldly examine with what reason he
did it.
First, truly, a man might maliciously object that Plato, being a
philosopher, was a natural enemy of poets. For, indeed, after the
philosophers had picked out of the sweet mysteries of poetry the right
discerning of true points of knowledge, they forthwith, putting it in
method, and making a school of art of that which the poets did only teach
by a divine delightfulness, beginning to spurn at their guides, like
ungrateful apprentices, were not content to set up shop for themselves,
but sought by all means to discredit their masters; which, by the force
of delight being barred them, the less they could overthrow them, the
more they hated them. For, indeed, they found for Homer seven cities
strove who should have him for their citizen, where many cities banished
philosophers as not fit members to live among them. For only repeating
certain of Euripides’ verses many Athenians had their lives saved of the
Syracusans, where the Athenians themselves thought many of the
philosophers unworthy to live. Certain poets, as Simonides and Pindar,
had so prevailed with Hiero the First, that of a tyrant they made him a
just king; where Plato could do so little with Dionysius that he himself,
of a philosopher, was made a slave. But who should do thus, I confess,
should requite the objections raised against poets with like cavillations
against philosophers; as likewise one should do that should bid one read
Phædrus or Symposium in Plato, or the discourse of Love in Plutarch, and
see whether any poet do authorise abominable filthiness as they do.
Again, a man might ask, out of what Commonwealth Plato doth banish them?
In sooth, thence where he himself alloweth community of women. So, as
belike this banishment grew not for effeminate wantonness, since little
should poetical sonnets be hurtful, when a man might have what woman he
listed. But I honour philosophical instructions, and bless the wits
which bred them, so as they be not abused, which is likewise stretched to
poetry. Saint Paul himself sets a watchword upon philosophy, indeed upon
the abuse. So doth Plato upon the abuse, not upon poetry. Plato found
fault that the poets of his time filled the world with wrong opinions of
the gods, making light tales of that unspotted essence, and therefore
would not have the youth depraved with such opinions. Herein may much be
said; let this suffice: the poets did not induce such opinions, but did
imitate those opinions already induced. For all the Greek stories can
well testify that the very religion of that time stood upon many and
many-fashioned gods; not taught so by poets, but followed according to
their nature of imitation. Who list may read in Plutarch the discourses
of Isis and Osiris, of the cause why oracles ceased, of the Divine
providence, and see whether the theology of that nation stood not upon
such dreams, which the poets indeed superstitiously observed; and truly,
since they had not the light of Christ, did much better in it than the
philosophers, who, shaking off superstition, brought in atheism.
Plato, therefore, whose authority I had much rather justly construe than
unjustly resist, meant not in general of poets, in those words of which
Julius Scaliger saith, “qua authoritate, barbari quidam atque insipidi,
abuti velint ad poetas e republicâ exigendos {71}:” but only meant to
drive out those wrong opinions of the Deity, whereof now, without farther
law, Christianity hath taken away all the hurtful belief, perchance as he
thought nourished by then esteemed poets. And a man need go no farther
than to Plato himself to know his meaning; who, in his dialogue called
“Ion,” {72} giveth high, and rightly, divine commendation unto poetry.
So as Plato, banishing the abuse, not the thing, not banishing it, but
giving due honour to it, shall be our patron, and not our adversary.
For, indeed, I had much rather, since truly I may do it, show their
mistaking of Plato, under whose lion’s skin they would make an ass-like
braying against poesy, than go about to overthrow his authority; whom,
the wiser a man is, the more just cause he shall find to have in
admiration; especially since he attributeth unto poesy more than myself
do, namely, to be a very inspiring of a divine force, far above man’s
wit, as in the fore-named dialogue is apparent.
Of the other side, who would show the honours have been by the best sort
of judgments granted them, a whole sea of examples would present
themselves; Alexanders, Cæsars, Scipios, all favourers of poets; Lælius,
called the Roman Socrates, himself a poet; so as part of
Heautontimeroumenos, in Terence, was supposed to be made by him. And
even the Greek Socrates, whom Apollo confirmed to be the only wise man,
is said to have spent part of his old time in putting Æsop’s Fables into
verse; and, therefore, full evil should it become his scholar Plato to
put such words in his master’s mouth against poets. But what needs more?
Aristotle writes the “Art of Poesy;” and why, if it should not be
written? Plutarch teacheth the use to be gathered of them; and how, if
they should not be read? And who reads Plutarch’s either history or
philosophy, shall find he trimmeth both their garments with guards {73}
of poesy.
But I list not to defend poesy with the help of his underling
historiographer. Let it suffice to have showed it is a fit soil for
praise to dwell upon; and what dispraise may be set upon it is either
easily overcome, or transformed into just commendation. So that since