“We'll show thee Io as she was a maid
And how she was beguiled and surprised,
As lively painted as the deed was done.”
The Antony and Cleopatra (act ii. sc. 7, l. 101, vol. ix. p. 60),
in one part, presents the banquet, or, rather, the drinking bout,
between Cæsar, Antony, Pompey, and Lepidus, “the third part
of the world.” Enobarbus addresses Antony,—
“Eno. [To Antony.] Ha, my brave emperor!
Shall we dance now the Egyptian Bacchanals,
And celebrate our drink?
Pom. Let’s ha’t, good soldier.
Ant. Come, let’s all take hands,
Till that the conquering wine hath steep’d our sense
In soft and delicate Lethe.
Eno. All take hands.
Make battery to our ears with the loud music:
The while I’ll place you: then the boy shall sing;
The holding every man shall bear as loud
As his strong sides can volley.
[Music plays, Enobarbus places them hand in hand.
“Come, thou monarch of the vine,
Plumpy Bacchus with pink eyne!
In thy fats our cares be drown’d,
With thy grapes our hairs be crown’d:
Cup us, till the world go round,
Cup us, till the world go round!”
Now, the figures in Alciat, in Whitney, in the Microcosmos,[127]
and especially in Boissard’s “Theatrvm Vitæ Humanæ,” ed.
Metz, 1596, p. 213, of a certainty suggest the epithets “plumpy
Bacchus” “with pink eyne,” a very chieftain of “Egyptian Bacchanals.”
This last depicts the “monarch of the vine” approaching
to mellowness.
The Latin stanzas subjoined would, however, not have
suited Enobarbus and the roistering triumvirs of the world,—
“Suave Dei munus vinum est: hominumque saluti
Conducit: præsit dummodò sobrietas.
Immodico sed si tibi proluat ora Lyæo,
Pro dulci potas tetra aconita mero.”
i.e.
“Wine is God’s pleasant gift, and for men’s health
Conduces, when sobriety presides;
But if excessive drained Lyæan wealth,
For liquor sweet black aconite abides.”
The phrase, “rempli de vin dont son visage est teint,” in “Le
Microcosme,” Lyons, 1562, suggests the placing the stanzas in
which it occurs, in illustration of Shakespeare’s song; they are,—
“Le Dieu Bacchus d’ordinaire on depeint
Ayant en main vn chapelet de lierre,
Tenant aussi vne couppe ou vn verre
Rempli de vin dont son visage est teint.
Des deux costes son chef on void aislé,
Et pres de luy d’vne pasture belle
Le genereux Pegasus à double aisle
Se veut guinder vers le ciel estoilé.”
In ſtatuam Bacchi.
Dialogismvs.
XXV.
It may give completion
to this sketch if we
subjoin the figured Bacchus
of Alciat (edition
Antwerp, 1581, p. 113),
and present the introductory
lines,—
“Bacche pater quis te mortali lumine nouit,
Et docta effinxit quis tua membra manu?
Praxiteles, qui me rapientem Gnossida vidit,
Atque illo pinxit tempore, qualis eram.”
Of Alciat’s 36 lines, Whitney, p. 187, gives the brief yet
paraphrastic translation,—
“The timelie birthe that Semele did beare,
See heere, in time howe monstêrous he grewe:
With drinkinge muche, and dailie bellie cheare,
His eies weare dimme, and fierie was his hue:
His cuppe, still full: his head, with grapes was croun’de;
Thus time he spent with pipe, and tabret sounde.
[128]
Which carpes all those, that loue to much the canne,
And dothe describe theire personage, and theire guise:
For like a beaste, this doth transforme a man,
And makes him speake that moste in secret lies;
Then, shunne the sorte that bragge of drinking muche,
Seeke other frendes, and ioyne not handes with suche.”
On the same subject we may refer to Love’s Labour’s Lost
(act iv. sc. 3, l. 308, vol. ii. p. 151), to the long discourse or argument
by Biron, in which he asks,—
“For where is any author in the world
Teaches such beauty as a woman’s eye?”
The offensiveness of excess in wine is then well set forth (l. 333),—
“Love’s feeling is more soft and sensible,
Than are the tender horns of cockled snails;
Love’s tongue proves dainty Bacchus gross in taste.”
On these words the best comment are two couplets from
Whitney (p. 133), to the sentiment, Prudentes vino abstinent,—“The
wise abstain from wine.”
Loe here the vine dothe claſpe, to prudent Pallas tree,
The league is nought, for virgines wiſe, doe Bacchus frendſhip flee.
Quid me vexatis rami? Sum Palladis arbor,
Auferte hinc botros, virgo fugit Bromium.
Why vexe yee mee yee boughes? ſince I am Pallas tree:
Remoue awaie your cluſters hence, the virgin wine doth flee.
Not less degrading and brutalising than the goblets of
Bacchus are the poisoned cups of the goddess Circe. Her
fearful power and enchantments form episodes in the 10th
book of the Odyssey, in the 7th of the Æneid, and in the
14th of the Metamorphoses. So suitable a theme for their
art is not neglected by the Emblem writers. Alciat adopts
it as a warning against meretricious allurements (edition
1581, p. 184),—
Cauendum à meretricibus.
Emblema lxxvi.
Sole ſatæ Circes tam magna potentia fertur,
Verterit vt multos in noua monſtra viros.
Teſtis equûm domitor Picus, tum Scylla biformis,
Atque Ithaci poſtquàm vina bibere sues.
Indicat illustri meretricem nomine Circe,
Et rationem animi perdere, quiſquis amat.
Adopting another motto, Homines voluptatibus transformantur,—“Men
are transformed by pleasures,”—Whitney (p. 82) yet
gives expression to Alciat’s idea,—
“See here Vlisses men, transformed straunge to heare:
Some had the shape of Goates, and Hogges, some Apes, and Asses weare.
Who, when they might haue had their former shape againe,
They did refuse, and rather wish’d, still brutishe to remaine.
Which showes those foolishe sorte, whome wicked loue dothe thrall,
Like brutishe beastes do passe theire time, and haue no sence at all.
And thoughe that wisedome woulde, they shoulde againe retire,
Yet, they had rather Circes serue, and burne in theire desire.
Then, loue the onelie crosse, that clogges the worlde with care,
Oh stoppe your eares, and shutte your eies, of Circes cuppes beware.”
The striking lines from Horace (Epist. i. 2) are added,—
“Sirenum voces, & Circes pocula nosti:
Quæ si cum sociis stultus, cupidusq’ bibisset,
Sub domina meretrice fuisset turpis, & excors,
Vixisset canis immundus, vel amica luto sus.”
i.e.
“Of Sirens the voices, and of Circe the cups thou hast known:
Which if, with companions, anyone foolish and eager had drunk,
Under a shameless mistress he has become base and witless,
Has lived as a dog unclean, or a sow in friendship with mire.”
Circe and Ulysses are also briefly treated of in The Golden
Emblems of Nicholas Reusner, with Stimmer’s plates, 1591,
sign C. v.
Bellua dira libido
Pulcra facit Circe meretrix excordia corda:
Fortis Vlyſseâ, qui ſapit, arte domat.
Ins Bieh verzäubert Circe vil,
Schlägt hurn von sich, mer weiß sein will.
Reusner (edition 1581, p. 134), assuming that “Slothfulness
is the wicked Siren,” builds much upon Virgil and Horace, as
may be seen from the epithets he employs. We give only a
portion of his Elegiacs, and the English of them first,—
“Through various chances, through so many dangerous things,
While again and again the Ithacan pursues the long ways:
The voices of Sirens, and of Circe the kingdoms he forsakes:
Nor does the bland Atlantis his journey retard.
But as Circe to his companions supplies the potations foul,
Witless and shameless this becomes a sow and that a dog.”
Improba Siren deſidia.
Emblema xxiv.
Ad Vuolfgangum, & Carolum Rechlingeros,
Patr. Auguſtanos.
PEr varios caſus, per tot diſcrimina rerum,
Dum longas Ithacus itq́₃que, reditq́₃que vias:
Sirenum voces, & Circes regna relinquit:
Blanda nec Atlantis tunc remoratur iter.
At ſocijs Circe dum pocula fœda miniſtrat:
Excors, & turpis ſus fit hic, ille canis.
Now, Shakespeare’s allusions to Circe are only two. The
first, in the Comedy of Errors (act v. sc. 1, l. 269, vol. i. p. 455),
when all appears in inextricable confusion, and Antipholus of
Ephesus demands justice because of his supposed wrongs. The
Duke Solinus in his perplexity says,—
“Why what an intricate impeach is this!
I think you all have drunk of Circe’s cup.”
The second, in 1 Henry VI. (act v. sc. 3, l. 30, vol. v. p. 86). On
fighting hand to hand with the Maid of Orleans, and taking her
prisoner, the Duke of York, almost like a dastard, reproaches
and exults over her noble nature,—
“Damsel of France I think, I have you fast:
Unchain your spirits now with spelling charms
And try if they can gain you liberty.
A goodly prize, fit for the devil’s grace!
See, how the ugly witch doth bend her brows,
As if, with Circe, she would change my shape!”
So closely connected with Circe are the Sirens of fable that
it is almost impossible to treat of them separately. As usual,
Alciat’s is the Emblem-book (edition 1551) from which we
obtain the illustrative print and the Latin stanzas.
Abſque alis volucres, & cruribus abſque puellas,
Roſtro abſq́₃que, & piſces, qui tamen ore canant:
Quis putet eſſe vllos? iungi hæc natura negauit
Sirenes fieri ſed potuiſſe docent.
Illicitum eſt mulier, quæ in piſcem deſinit atrum,
Plurima quòd ſecum monſtra libido vehit.
Aſpectu, verbis, animi candore, trahuntur,
Parthenope, Ligia, Leucoſiaq́₃que viri.
Has muſæ explumant, has atque illudit Vlyſſes.
Scilicet eſt doctis cum meretrice nihil.
It is Whitney who provides the poetic comment (p. 10),—
“Withe pleasaunte tunes, the Syrenes did allure
Vlisses wise, to listen to theire songe:
But nothinge could his manlie harte procure,
Hee sailde awaie, and scap’d their charming stronge,
The face, he lik’de, the nether parte, did loathe:
For womans shape, and fishes had they bothe.
Which shewes to vs, when Bewtie seekes to snare
The carelesse man, whoe dothe no daunger dreede,
That he shoulde flie, and shoulde in time beware,
And not on lookes, his fickle fancie feede:
Such Mairemaides liue, that promise onelie ioyes:
But hee that yeldes, at lengthe him selffe distroies.”
The Dialogue, from the Comedy of Errors (act iii. sc. 2, lines
27 and 45, vol. i. pp. 425, 6), between Luciana and Antipholus
of Syracuse, maintains,—
“’Tis holy sport, to be a little vain,
When the sweet breath of flattery conquers strife;”
and the remonstrance urges,—
“O train me not, sweet mermaid, with thy note,
To drown me in thy sister flood of tears:
Sing, siren, for thyself, and I will dote:
Spread o'er the silver waves thy golden hairs,
And, as a bed I'll take them, and there lie;
And, in that glorious supposition, think
He gains by death that hath such means to die.”
And in the Titus Andronicus (act ii. sc. 1, l. 18, vol. vi.
p. 451), Aaron, the Moor, resolves, when speaking of Tamora
his imperial mistress,—
“Away with slavish weeds and servile thoughts!
I will be bright, and shine in pearl and gold,
To wait upon this new-made empress.
To wait, said I? to wanton with this queen,
This goddess, this Semiramis, this nymph.
This siren, that will charm Rome’s Saturnine,
And see his shipwreck and his commonweal’s.”
[129]
To recommend the sentiment that “Art is a help to nature,”
Alciatus (edition 1551, p. 107) introduces the god Mercury and
the goddess Fortune,—
Vt sphæræ Fortuna, cubo ſic inſidet Hermes:
Artibus hic, varijs caſibus illa præeſt.
Aduerſus vim Fortunæ eſt ars facta: ſed artis
Cùm fortuna mala eſt, ſæpe requirit opem.
Diſce bonas artes igitur ſtudioſa iuuentus,
Quæ certæ ſecum commoda ſortis habent.
i.e.
“As on a globe Fortune rests, so on a cube Mercury:
In various arts this one excells, that in mischances.
Against the force of Fortune art is used; but of art,
When Fortune is bad, she often demands the aid.
Learn good arts then ye studious youth,
Which being sure have with themselves the advantages of destiny.”
Sambucus takes up the lyre of some Emblem Muse and
causes Mercury to strike a similar strain to the saying, “Industry
corrects nature.”
Induſtria naturam corrigit.
Tam rude & incultum nihil eſt, induſtria poſſit
Naturæ vitium quin poliiſſe, labor.
Inuentam caſu cochleam, temereq́ue iacentem
Inſtruxit neruis nuntius ille Deûm.
Informem citharam excoluit: nunc gaudia mille,
Et reddit dulces pectine mota ſonos.
Cur igitur quereris, naturam & fingis ineptam?
Nónne tibi ratio eſt? muta loquuntur, abi.
Ritè fit è concha teſtudo, ſeruit vtrinque:
In venerem hæc digitis, ſæpiùs illa gula.
The god is mending a broken or an imperfect musical instrument,
a lyrist is playing, and a maiden dancing before him.
Whitney thus performs the part of interpreter (p. 92),—
“The Lute, whose sounde doth most delighte the eare
Was caste aside, and lack’de bothe striges, and frettes:
Whereby, no worthe within it did appeare,
Mercvrivs came, and it in order settes:
Which being tun’de, such Harmonie did lende,
That Poëttes write, the trees theire toppes did bende.
Euen so, the man on whome dothe Nature froune,
Wereby, he liues dispis’d of euerie wighte,
Industrie yet, maie bringe him to renoume,
And diligence, maie make the crooked righte:
Then haue no doubt, for arte maie nature helpe.
Thinke howe the beare doth forme her vgly whelpe.”
The cap with wings, and the rod of power with serpents
entwined, are almost the only outward signs of which Shakespeare
avails himself in his descriptions of Mercury, so that in
this instance there is very little correspondence of idea or of
expression between him and our Emblem authors. Nevertheless,
we produce it for what it is worth.
In King John (act iv. sc. 2, l. 170, vol. iv. p. 67), the monarch
urges Falconbridge’s brother Philip to inquire respecting the
rumours that the French had landed,—
“Nay, but make haste; the better foot before.
O, let me have no subject enemies,
When adverse foreigners affright my towns
With dreadful pomp of stout invasion!
Be Mercury, set feathers to thy heels
And fly like thought from them to me again.”
One of Shakespeare’s gems is the description which Sir Richard
Vernon gives to Hotspur of the gallant appearance of “The nimble-footed
madcap Prince of Wales” (1 Henry IV., act iv. sc. 1, l.
104, vol. iv. p. 318),—
“I saw young Harry, with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm’d,
Rise from the ground like feather’d Mercury,
And vaulted with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp’d down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.”
The railer Thersites (Troilus and Cressida, act ii. sc. 3, l. 9,
vol. vi. p. 168) thus mentions our Hermes,—
“O thou great thunder-darter of Olympus, forget that thou art Jove the
king of gods; and Mercury, lose all the serpentine craft of thy caduceus.”
And centering the good qualities of many into one, Hamlet
(act iii. sc. 4, l. 55, vol. viii. p. 111) sums up to his mother the
perfections of his murdered father,—
“See what a grace was seated on this brow;
Hyperion’s curls, the front of Jove himself,
An eye like Mars, to threaten and command;
A station like the herald Mercury
New lighted on a heaven-kissing hill;
A combination and a form indeed,
Where every god did seem to set his seal
To give the world assurance of a man.”
Personifications, or, rather, deifications of the powers and
properties of the natural world, and of the influences which
presided over them, belong especially to the ancient Mythology.
Of these, there is one from the Emblem writers decidedly
claiming our notice, I may say, our admiration, because of its
essential truth and beauty;—it is the Personification of Fortune,
or, as some writers name the goddess, Occasion and Opportunity;
and it is highly poetical in all its attributes.
From at least four distinct sources in the Emblem-books of
the sixteenth century, Shakespeare might have derived the characteristics
of the goddess; from Alciat, Perriere, Corrozet, and
Whitney.
Perriere’s “Theatre des Bons Engins,” Paris, 1539, presents
the figure with the stanzas of old French here subjoined,—
“Qvel est le nõ de la presenté̩[e/]̩ image?
Occasion ce nõme pour certain.
Qui fut l’autheur? Lysipus fist l’ouurage:
Et que tient ellé̩[e/]̩? vng rasoir en sa main.
Pourquoi? pourtãtque tout trâche souldain.
Ellé̩[e/]̩ a cheueulx deuât & non derriere?
Cest pour mõstrer quelle tourne ẽ arriere
Sõ fault le coup quãd on la doibt tenir
Aulx talons a dis esles? car barriere
(Quellesque soit) ne la peult retenir.”
These French verses may be accepted as a translation of
the Latin of Alciat, on the goddess Opportunity; as may
be seen, she is portrayed standing on a wheel that is floating
upon the waves; and as the tide rises, there are apparently
ships or boats making for the shore. The figure holds a
razor in the right hand, has wings upon the feet, and
abundance of hair streaming from the forehead.
Lyſippi hoc opus eſt, Sycion cui patria. Tu quis?
Cuncta domans capti temporis articulus.
Cur pinnis ſtas? vſque rotor. Talaria plantis
Cur retines? Paſſim me leuis aura rapit.
In dextra eſt tennis dic vnde nouacula? Acutum
Omni acie hoc ſignum me magis eſſe docet.
Cur in frõte coma? Occurrẽs vt prẽdar. At heus tu
Dic cur pars calua eſt poſterior capitis?
Ne ſemel alipedem si quis permittat abire,
Ne poſſim apprehenſo poſtmodo crine capi.
Tali opifex nos arte, tui cauſa, edidit hoſpes.
Vtq́₃que omnes moneam: pergula aperta tenet.
Whitney’s English lines (p. 181) sufficiently express the
meaning, both of the French and of the Latin stanzas,—
“What creature thou? Occasion I doe showe.
On whirling wheele declare why doste thou stande?
Bicause, I still am tossed too, and froe.
Why doest thou houlde a rasor in thy hande?
That men maie knowe I cut on euerie side,
And when I come, I armies can deuide.
But wherefore hast thou winges vppon thy feete?
To showe, how lighte I flie with little winde.
What meanes longe lockes before? that suche as meete,
Maye houlde at firste, when they occasion finde.
Thy head behinde all balde, what telles it more?
That none shoulde houlde, that let me slippe before.
Why doest thou stande within an open place?
That I maye warne all people not to staye,
But at the firste, occasion to imbrace,
And when shee comes, to meete her by the waye.
Lysippus so did thinke it best to bee,
Who did deuise mine image, as you see.”
The correspondent part to the thought contained in these
three writers occurs in the Julius Cæsar (act iv. sc. 3, l. 213,
vol. vii. p. 396), where Brutus and Cassius are discussing the
question of proceeding to Philippi and offering battle to “young
Octavius and Marc Antony;” it is decided by the argument
which Brutus urges with much force,—
“Our legions are brim-full, our cause is ripe:
The enemy increaseth every day;
We, at the height, are ready to decline.
There is a tide in the affairs of men
Which taken at the flood leads on to fortune;
Omitted, all the voyage of their life
Is bound in shallows and in miseries.
On such a full sea are we now afloat,
And we must take the current when it serves,
Or lose our ventures.”
These lines, we may observe, are an exact comment on
Whitney’s text; there is the “full sea,” on which Fortune is
“now afloat;” and people are all warned, “at the first occasion
to embrace,” or “take the current when it serves.”
The “images,” too, of Fortune and of Occasion in Corrozet’s
“Hecatomgraphie,” Embs. 41 and 84, are very suggestive of
the characteristics of the “fickle goddess.”
Fortune is standing upright upon the sea; one foot is
on a fish, the other on a globe; and in the right hand is a
broken mast. Occasion is in a boat and standing on a wheel;
she has wings to her feet, and with her hands she holds out
a swelling sail; she has streaming hair, and behind her
in the stern of the boat Penitence is seated, lamenting for
opportunities lost. The stanzas to “Occasion” are very
similar to those of other Emblem writers; and we add, therefore,
only the English of the verses to “Fortune,”—The
Image of Fortune.
“A strange event our Fortune is,
Unlocked for, sudden as a shower;
Never then, worldling! give to her
Right over thee to wield her power.”
A series of questions follow,—
“Tell me, O fortune, for what end thou art holding the broken mast
wherewith thou supportest thyself? And why also is it that thou art painted
upon the sea, encircled with so long a veil? Tell me too why under thy feet
are the ball and the dolphin?”
As in the answers given by Whitney, there is abundant plainness
in Corrozet,—
“It is to show my instability, and that in me there is no security. Thou
seest this mast broken all across,—this veil also puffed out by various winds,-beneath
one foot, the dolphin amid the waves; below the other foot, the
round unstable ball;—I am thus on the sea at a venture. He who has made
my portraiture wishes no other thing to be understood than this, that distrust
is enclosed beneath me and that I am uncertain of reaching a safe haven;—near
am I to danger, from safety ever distant: in perplexity whether to weep
or to laugh,—doubtful of good or of evil, as the ship which is upon the seas
tossed by the waves, is doubtful in itself where it will be borne. This then is
what you see in my true image, hither and thither turned without security.”
A description, very similar to this, occurs in the dialogue
between Fluellen, a Welsh captain, and “an aunchient
lieutenant” Pistol (Henry V., act iii. sc. 6, 1. 20, vol. iv.
P. 543),—
“ Pist. Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours:
The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
Flu. Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at his hands.
Pist. Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart.
And of buxom valour, hath, by cruel fate,
And giddy Fortune’s furious fickle wheel,
That stands upon the rolling, restless stone—
Flu. By your patience, Aunchient Pistol, Fortune is painted blind, with a
muffler afore her eyes, to signify to you that fortune is blind; and she is
painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that
she is turning, and inconstant, and mutability, and variation: and her foot,
look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls:
in good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description of it: Fortune
is an excellent moral.”
Fortune on the sphere, or “rolling, restless stone,” is also well
pictured in the “ΜΙΚΡΟΚΟΣΜΟΣ,” editions 1579 and 1584. The
whole device is described in the French version,—
“L’oiseau de Paradis est de telle nature
Qu’en nul endroit qui soit on ne le void iucher,
Car il n’a point de pieds, & ne peut se rucher
Ailleurs qu’en l’air serein dont il prend nourriture.
En cest oiseau se void de Fortune l’image,
En laquelle n’y a sinon legreté:
Iamais son cours ne fut egal & arresté,
Mais tousiours incertain inconstant & volage.
Pour la quelle raison on souloit la pourtraire,
Tenant vn voile afin d’aller au gré du vent,
Des aisles aux costez pour voler bien auant,
Ayant les pieds coupez, estant sur vne sphære;
Et pourtant cestuy la qui se fie en Fortune,
Au lieu de fier au grand Dieu souuerain,
Est bien maladuisé, & se monstre aussi vain
Que celuy qui bastit sur le dos de Neptune.”
The ideas of the Emblematists respecting the goddess
“Occasion” are also embodied by Shakespeare two or three
times. Thus on receiving the evil tidings of his mother’s death
and of the dauphin’s invasion, King John (act iv. sc. 2, l. 125,
vol. iv, p. 65) exclaims,—
“Withhold thy speed, dreadful Occasion!
O make a league with me, till I have pleased
My discontented peers!”
In 2 Henry IV. (act iv. sc. 1, l. 70, vol. iv. p. 431) the Archbishop
of York also says,—
“We see which way the stream of time doth run,
And are enforced from our most quiet there
By the rough torrent of occasion.”
Most beautiful too, and forcible are the stanzas on Occasion,
or Opportunity from Lucrece (lines 869–882, vol. ix. p. 515),—
“Unruly blasts wait on the tender spring;
Unwholesome weeds take root with precious flowers;
The adder hisses where the sweet birds sing;
What virtue breeds iniquity devours:
We have no good that we can say is ours
But ill-annexed Opportunity
Or kills his life or else his quality.
O Opportunity, thy guilt is great!
’Tis thou that executes! the traitor’s treason;
Thou set’st the wolf where he the lamb may get;
Whoever plots the sin, thou point’st the season;
’Tis thou that spurn’st at right, at law, at reason,
And in thy shady cell, where none may spy him,
Sits Sin, to seize the souls that wander by him.”
[131]