MONUMENTS, or memorial stones, with emblematical figures and characters carved upon them, are of ancient date in Britain as elsewhere—probably antecedent even to Christianity itself. Manuscripts, too, ornamented with many a symbolical device, carry us back several hundred years. These we may dismiss from consideration at the present moment, and simply take up printed books devoted chiefly or entirely to Emblems.

I.—Of printed Emblem-books in the earlier time down to 1598, when Willet’s Century of Sacred Emblems appeared, though there were several in the English language, there were only few of pure English origin. Watson and Barclay, in 1509, gave English versions of Sebastian Brant’s Fool-freighted Ship. Not later than 1536, nor earlier than 1517, The Dialogue of Creatures moralysed was translated “out of latyn in to our English tonge.” In 1549, at Lyons, The Images of the Old Testament, &c., were “set forthe in Ynglishe and Frenche;” and in 1553, from the same city, Peter Derendel gave in English metre The true and lyvely historyke Portreatures of the woll Bible.

The Workes of Sir Thomas More Knyght, sometyme Lorde Chauncellour of England, were published in small folio, London, 1557, and in them at the beginning (signature C ijv—C iiij) are inserted what the author names “nyne pageauntes,” which, as they existed in his father’s house about A.D. 1496, were certainly Emblems. To this list Sir Thomas North, in London, 1570, added The Morall Philosophie of Doni, “out of Italien;” Daniell, in 1585, The worthy Tract of Paulus Jovius, which Whitney, in 1586, followed up by A Choice of Emblemes, “Englished and moralized;” and Paradin’s Heroicall Devises were “Translated out of Latin into English,” London, 1591.

To vindicate something of an English origin for a few emblems at least, reference may again be made to the fact that about the year 1495 or 6, “Mayster Thomas More in his youth deuysed in hys fathers house in London, a goodly hangyng of fyne paynted clothe, with nyne pageauntes,^[73] and verses ouer of euery of those pageauntes: which verses expressed and declared, what the ymages in those pageauntes represented: and also in those pageauntes were paynted, the thynges that the verses ouer them dyd (in effecte) declare.” In 1592, Wyrley published at London The true use of Armories, &c.; soon after appeared Emblems by Thomas Combe, which, however, are no longer known to be in existence; and then, in 1598, Andrew Willet’s Sacrorvm Emblematvm Centvria vna, &c.,—“A Century of Sacred Emblems.” Guillim, in 1611, supplied A Display of Heraldry; and Peacham, in 1612, A Garden of Heroical Devices. There were, too, in MSS., several Emblem-works in English, some of which have since been edited and made known.

Yet we must not suppose that the knowledge of Emblem-books in Britain depended on those only of which an English version had been achieved. To men of culture, the whole series was open in almost its entire extent. James Hamilton, Earl of Arran, had resided in France, and in 1555, being high in the favour of Henry II., “was made captain of his Scotch life-guards.” A few years before, namely, in 1549, as we have mentioned, p. 108, Aneau’s French translation of Alciat’s Emblems had been dedicated to him as, “filz de tres noble Prince Jacque Due de Chastel le herault, Prince Gouverneur du Royaume d’Escoce.”

Among the rare books in the British Museum is Marquale’s Italian Version of Alciat’s Emblems, printed at Lyons in 1549; a copy of it, a very lovely book, in the original binding, bears on the back the royal crown, and at the foot the letters “E. VI. R.,”—Edwardus Sextus Rex; and, as he died in 1553, we thus have evidence at how early a date the work was known in England. To the young king it would doubtless be a book “for delight and for ornament.”

Of Holbein’s Imagines Mortis, Lyons, 1545, by George Æmylius, Luther’s brother-in-law, a copy now in the British Museum “was presented to Prince Edward by Dr. William Bill, accompanied with a Latin dedication, dated from Cambridge, 19th July, 1546, wherein he recommends the prince’s attention to the figures in the book, in order to remind him that all must die to obtain immortality; and enlarges on the necessity of living well. He concludes with a wish that the Lord will long and happily preserve his life, and that he may finally reign to all eternity with his most Christian father. Bill was appointed one of the king’s chaplains in ordinary, 1551, and was made the first Dean of Westminster in the reign of Elizabeth.”—Douce’s Holbein, Bohn’s ed., 1858, pp. 93, 94.

In 1548, Mary of Scotland was sent into France for her education (Rapin, ed. 1724, vol. vi. p. 30), and here imbibed the taste for, or rather knowledge of, Emblems, which afterwards she put into practice. To her son, in his fourteenth year, emblems were introduced by no less an authority than that of Theodore Beza. A copy indeed of the works of Alciatus was bound for him when he became King of England,—it is a folio edition, in six volumes or parts, and is still preserved in the British Museum; the royal arms are on the cover, front and back, and fleurs-de-lis in the corners. It was printed at Lyons in 1560, and possibly the Emblems in vol. vi., leaves 334–354, with their very beautiful devices, may have been the companions of his boyhood and early years. By the Emblem-works of Beza and of Alciat probably was laid the foundation of the king’s love for allegorical representations, which, under the name of masques, were provided by Jonson for the Court’s amusement. The king’s weakness in this respect is wittily set forth in the French epigram soon after his death (Rapin’s History, 4to, vol. vii. p. 259):—

To English noblemen, in 1608, Otho van Veen, from Antwerp, commends his Amorum Emblemata,—“Emblems of the Loves,”—with 124 excellent devices. Thus the dedication runs: “To the moste honorable and woerthie brothers, William Earle of Pembroke, and Philip Earle of Mountgomerie, patrons of learning and cheualrie.” In England, therefore, as in Scotland, there were eminent lovers of the Emblem literature.

But an acquaintance with that literature may be regarded as more spread abroad and increased when Emblem-books became the sources of ornamentation for articles of household furniture, and for the embellishment of country mansions. A remarkable instance is supplied from The History of Scotland, edition London, 1655, “By William Drummond of Hauthornden.” It is in a letter “To his worthy Friend Master Benjamin Johnson,” dated July 1, 1619, respecting some needle-work by Mary Queen of Scots, and shows how intimately she was acquainted with several of the Emblem-books of her day, or had herself attained the art of making devices. The whole letter, except a few lines at the beginning, is most interesting to the admirers of Emblems. Drummond thus writes:—

“I have been curious to find out for you the Impresaes and Emblemes on a Bed of State^[75] wrought and embroidered all with gold and silk by the late Queen Mary, mother to our sacred Sovereign, which will embellish greatly some pages of your Book, and is worthy your remembrance; the first is the Loadstone turning towards the pole, the word her Majesties name turned on an Anagram, Maria Stuart, sa virtu, m’attire, which is not much inferiour to Veritas armata. This hath reference to a Crucifix, before which with all her Royall Ornaments she is humbled on her knees most liuely, with the word, undique; an Impresa of Mary of Lorrain, her Mother, a Phœnix in flames, the word,^[76] en ma fin git mon commencement. The Impressa of an Apple-Tree growing in a Thorn, the word, Per vincula crescit. The Impressa of Henry the second, the French King, a Cressant, the word, Donec totum impleat orbem. The Impressa of King Francis the first, a Salamander crowned in the midst of Flames, the word, Nutrisco et extinguo. The Impressa of Godfrey of Bullogne, an arrow passing through three birds, the word, Dederit ne viam Casusve Deusve. That of Mercurius charming Argos, with his hundred eyes, expressed by his Caduceus, two Flutes, and a Peacock, the word, Eloquium tot lumina clausit. Two Women upon the Wheels of Fortune, the one holding a Lance, the other a Cornucopia; which Impressa seemeth to glaunce at Queen Elizabeth and herself, the word, Fortunæ Comites. The Impressa of the Cardinal of Lorrain her Uncle, a Pyramid overgrown with ivy, the vulgar word, Te stante virebo; a Ship with her Mast broken and fallen in the Sea, the word, Nusquam nisi rectum. This is for herself and her Son, a Big Lyon and a young Whelp beside her, the word, Unum quidem, sed Leonem. An embleme of a Lyon taken in a Net, and Hares wantonly passing over him, the word, Et lepores devicto insultant Leone. Cammomel in a garden, the word, Fructus calcata dat amplos. A Palm Tree, the word, Ponderibus virtus innata resistit. A Bird in a Cage, and a Hawk flying above, with the word, Il mal me preme et me spaventa a Peggio. A triangle with a Sun in the middle of a Circle, the word, Trino non convenit orbis. A Porcupine amongst Sea Rocks, the word, Ne volutetur. The Impressa of king Henry the eight, a Portculles, the word, altera securitas. The Impressa of the Duke of Savoy, the annunciation of the Virgin Mary, the word, Fortitudo ejus Rhodum tenuit. He had kept the Isle of Rhodes. Flourishes of Armes, as Helms, Launces, Corslets, Pikes, Muskets, Canons, the word, Dabit Deus his quoque finem. A Tree planted in a Church-yard environed with dead men’s bones, the word, Pietas revocabit ab orco. Ecclipses of the Sun and the Moon, the word, Ipsa sibi lumen quod invidet aufert, glauncing, as may appear, at Queen Elizabeth. Brennus Ballances, a sword cast in to weigh Gold, the word, Quid nisi Victis dolor! A Vine tree watred with Wine, which instead to make it spring and grow, maketh it fade, the word, Mea sic mihi prosunt. A wheel rolled from a Mountain in the Sea, the word, Piena di dolor voda de Sperenza. Which appeareth to be her own, and it should be, Precipitio senza speranza. A heap of Wings and Feathers dispersed, the word, Magnatum Vicinitas. A Trophie upon a Tree, with Mytres, Crowns, Hats, Masks, Swords, Books, and a Woman with a Vail about her eyes or muffled, pointing to some about her, with this word, Ut casus dederit. Three crowns, two opposite and another above in the Sea, the word, Aliamque moratur. The Sun in an Ecclipse, the word, Medio occidet Die.”

“I omit the Arms of Scotland, England, and France severally by themselves, and all quartered in many places of this Bed. The workmanship is curiously done, and above all value, and truely it may be of this Piece said, Materiam superabat opus.”^[77]

It would be tedious to verify, as might be done in nearly every instance, the original authors of these twenty-nine Impreses and Emblems. Several of them are in our own Whitney, several in Paradin’s Devises heroiques, and several in Dialogve des Devises d’armes et d’amovrs dv S. Pavlo Jovio, &c., 4to, A Lyon, 1561.

From the last named author we select as specimens two of the Emblems with which Queen Mary embellished the bed for her son;—the first is “the Impressa of King Francis the First,” who, as the Dialogue, p. 24, affirms, “changea la fierté des deuises de guerre en la douceur & ioyeuseté amoureuse,”—“And to signify that he was glowing with the passions of love,—and so pleasing were they to him, that he had the boldness to say that he found nourishment in them;—for this reason he chose the Salamander, which dwelling in the flames is not consumed.” (See woodcut next page.) The second, p. 25, is “the Impressa of Henry the second, the French King,” the son and successor of Francis in 1547. (See woodcut, p. 127.)

He had adopted the motto and device when he was Dauphin, and continued to bear them on his succession to the throne;—in the one case to signify that he could not show his entire worth until he arrived at the heritage of the kingdom; and in the other that he must recover for his kingdom what had been lost to it, and so complete its whole orb.

It may appear almost impossible, even on a “Bed of State,” to work twenty-nine Emblems and the arms of Scotland, England, and France, “severally by themselves and all quartered in many places of the bed,”—but a bed, probably of equal antiquity, was a few years since, if not now, existing at Hinckley in Leicestershire, on which the same number “of emblematical devices, and Latin mottoes in capital letters conspicuously introduced,” had found space and to spare. All these emblems are, I believe, taken from books of Shakespeare’s time, or before him; as, “An ostrich with a horseshoe in the beak,” the word, Spiritus durissima coquit; “a cross-bow at full stretch,” the word, Ingenio superat vires. “A hand playing with a serpent,” the word, Quis contra nos? “The tree of life springing from the cross on an altar,”^[78] the word, Sola vivit in illo. (See Gentleman’s Magazine, vol. lxxxi. pt. 2, p. 416, Nov. 1811.)

Upon this supposition Symeon,^[79] before mentioned, has invented an Emblem, representing a human head and a hand issuing out of a cloud, and pointing to it, with this motto, Frons hominem præfert,—“The forehead shows the man.”

Emblem 33. Speravi et perii,—“I hoped and perished;”—the device, “A bird thrusting its head into an oyster partly open.” A very similar sentiment is rather differently expressed by Whitney, p. 128, by Freitag, p. 169, and by Alciat, edition Paris, 1602, emb. 94, p. 437, from whom it was borrowed. Here the device is a mouse invading the domicile of an oyster, the motto, Captivus ob gulam,—“A prisoner through gluttony;” and the poor little mouse—

Now, since so many Emblems from various authors were gathered to adorn a royal bed,^[80] “a very antient oak wooden bed,” and “a lady’s closet,” in widely distant parts of Britain, the supposition is most reasonable that the knowledge of them pervaded the cultivated and literary society of England and Scotland; and that Shakespeare, as a member of such society, would also be acquainted with them. The facts themselves are testimonies of a generally diffused judgment and taste, by which Emblematic devices for ornaments would be understood and appreciated.

And the facts we have mentioned are not solitary. About the period in question, in various mansions of the two kingdoms, Device and Emblem were employed for their adorning. In 1619, close upon Shakespeare’s time, and most likely influenced by his writings, there was set up in the Ancient Hall of the Leycesters of Lower Tabley, Cheshire, a richly carved and very curious chimney-piece, which may be briefly described as emblematizing country pursuits in connection with those of heraldry, literature, and the drama. In high relief, on one of the upright slabs, is a Lucrece, as the poet represents the deed, line 1723,—

On the other slab is a Cleopatra, with the deadly creature in her hand, though not at the very moment when she addressed the asp;—act. v. sc. 2, l. 305, vol. ix. p. 151,—

The cross slab represents the hunting of stag and hare, which with the hounds have wonderfully human faces. Here might the words of Titus Andronicus, act. ii. sc. 2, l. 1, vol. vii. p. 456, be applied,—

The heraldic insignia of the Leycesters surmount the whole, but just below them, in a large medallion, is an undeniable Emblem, similar to one which in 1624 appeared in Hermann Hugo’s Pia Desideria, bk. i. emb. xv. p. 117; Defecit in dolore vita mea et anni mei in gemitibus (Psal. xxx. or rather Psal. xxxi. 10),—“My life is spent with grief, and my years with sighing.” Appended to Hugo’s device are seventy-six lines of Latin elegiac verses, and five pages of illustrative quotations from the Fathers; but the character of the Emblem will be seen from the device presented.

Drayton in his Barons’ Wars, bk. vi., published in 1598, shows how the knowledge of our subject had spread and was spreading; as when he says of certain ornaments,—

There is, however, no occasion to pursue any further this branch of our theme, except it may be by a short continuation or extension of our Period of time, to show how Milton’s greater Epic most curiously corresponds with the title-page of a Dutch Emblem-book, which appeared in 1642, several years before Paradise Lost was written. (See Plate X.) The book is, Jan Vander Veens Zinne-beelden, oft Adams Appel,—“John Vander Veen’s Emblems, or Adam’s Apple,”—presenting some Dutch doggerel lines, of which this English doggerel contains the meaning,—

And again,—

Singularly like to Milton’s Introduction (bk. i. lines 1–4),—

With equal singularity appears in Boissard’s Theatrum Vitæ Humanæ,—“Theatre of Human Life,”—edition Metz, 1596, p. 19, the coincidence with Milton’s Fall of the rebel Angels. We have here pictured and described the Fall of Satan (see Plate XI.) almost as in modern days Turner depicted it, and as Milton has narrated the terrible overthrow (Paradise Lost, bk. vi.), when they were pursued

That same Theatre of Human Life, p. 1 (see Plate XIV.), also contains a most apt picture of Shakespeare’s lines, As You Like It, act. ii. sc. 7, l. 139, vol. ii. p. 409,—

The same notion is repeated in the Merchant of Venice, act. i. sc. 1, l. 77, vol. ii. p. 281, when Antonio says,—

In England, as elsewhere, emblematical carvings and writings preceded books of Emblems, that is, books in which the art of

the engraver and the genius of the poet were both employed to illustrate one and the same motto, sentiment, or proverbial saying. Not to repeat what may be found in Chaucer and others, Spenser’s Visions of Bellay,^[82] alluded to in the fac-simile reprint of Whitney, pp. xvi & xvii, needed only the designer and engraver to make them as perfectly Emblem-books as were the publications of Brant, Alciatus and Perriere. Those visions portray in words what an artist might express by a picture. For example, in Moxon’s edition, 1845, p. 438, iv.,—

Now what artist’s skill would not suffice from this description to delineate “the pillers of Iuorie,” “the chapters of Alabaster,” “a Victorie with golden wings,” and “the triumphing chaire, the auncient glorie of the Romane lordes;” and to make the whole a lively and most cunning Emblem?

No more needs be said respecting the knowledge of Emblem-books in Britain, unless it be to give the remarks of Tod, the learned editor of Spenser’s works, edition 1845, p. x. “The Visions are little things, done probably when Spenser was young, according to the taste of the times for Emblems.^[83] The Theatre of Wordlings, I must add, evidently presents a series of Emblems.”

II. We will now state some of the general indications that Shakespeare was acquainted with Emblem-books, or at least had imbibed “the taste of the times.”

Here and there in Shakespeare’s works, even from the way in which sayings and mottoes, in Spanish, as well as in French and Latin, are employed, we have indications that he had seen and, it may be, had studied some of the Emblem-writers of his day, and participated of their spirit. Thus Falstaff’s friend, the ancient Pistol, 2 Henry IV. act. ii. sc. 4, l. 165, vol. iv. p. 405, quotes the doggerel line, as given in the note, Si fortuna me tormenta, il sperare me contenta,—“If fortune torments me, hope contents me,”—which doubtless was the motto on his sword, which he immediately lays down. As quoted, the line is Spanish; a slight alteration would make it Italian; but Douce’s conjecture appears well founded, that as Pistol was preparing to lay aside his sword, he read off the motto which was upon it. Such mottoes were common as inscriptions upon swords; and Douce, vol. i. pp. 452, 3, gives the drawing of one with the French line, “Si fortune me tourmente, L’esperance me contente.”

He gives it, too, as a fact, that “Haniball Gonsaga being in the low-countries overthrowne from his horse by an English captaine and commanded to yeeld himselfe prisoner, kist his sword, and gave it to the Englishman, saying, ‘Si fortuna me tormenta, il speranza me contenta.’” Allow that Shakespeare served in the Netherlands, and we may readily suppose that he had heard the motto from the very Englishman to whom Gonsaga had surrendered.

The Clown in Twelfth Night, act. i. sc. 5, l. 50, vol. iii. p. 234, replies to the Lady Olivia ordering him as a fool to be taken away,—“Misprision in the highest degree! Lady, cucullus non facit monachum, [—it is not the hood that makes the monk,]—that’s as much to say as I wear not motley in my brain.” The saying is one which might appropriately adorn any Emblem-book of the day;—and the motley-wear receives a good illustration from a corresponding expression in Whitney, p. 81:

So, during Cade’s rebellion, when the phrase is applied by Lord Say, in answer to Dick the butcher’s question, “What say you of Kent?” 2 Henry VI. act. iv. sc. 7, l. 49, vol. v. p. 197,—

or when falling under the attack of York on the field of St. Alban’s, Lord Clifford exclaims, La fin couronne les œuvres (2 Henry VI. act. v. sc. 2, l. 28, vol. v. p. 217); these again are instances after the methods of Emblem-writers; and if they were carried out, as might be done, would present all the characteristics of the Emblem, in motto, illustrative woodcut, and descriptive verses.

It is but an allusion, and yet the opening scene, act. i. sc. 1, l. 50, vol. ii. p. 280, of the Merchant of Venice might borrow that allusion from an expression of Alciatus, edition Antwerp, 1581, p. 92, Jane bifrons,—“two-headed Janus.” (See woodcut, p. 140.)

The friends of Antonio banter him for his sadness, and one of them avers,—

Even if Shakespeare understood no Latin, the picture itself, or a similar one, would be sufficient to give origin to the phrase “two-headed Janus.” He adopts the picture, but not one of the sentiments; these, however, he did not need: it was only as a passing illustration that he named Janus, and how the author described the god’s qualities was no part of his purpose.

Or if the source of the phrase be not in Alciatus, it may have been derived either from Whitney’s Choice of Emblemes, p. 108, or from Perriere’s Theatre des Bons Engins, Paris, 1539, emb. i., reproduced in 1866 to illustrate pl. 30 of the fac-simile reprint of Whitney. Perriere’s French stanza is to this effect:—