John Weever, 1599.

Ad Io: Marston, & Ben: Iohnson.

Marston, thy Muse enharbours Horace vaine,
Then some Augustus give thee Horace merit,
And thine embuskin'd Iohnson doth retaine
So rich a stile, and wondrous gallant spirit;
That if to praise your Muses I desired,

My Muse would muse. Such wittes must be admired.
[Epigrammes in the Oldest Cut and Newest Fashion, ed. R. B. McKerrow,
1911, p. 96.]

William holme

The Stationers' Registers, 1600.

8 Aprilis

Entred for his copie under the handes of master Harsnet.
and master Wyndet warden. A Comicall Satyre of
euery man out of his humour.

.vjd

4. Augusti

As you like yt / a booke

Henry the ffift / a booke

Euery man in his humour / a booke

The commedie of 'muche A doo about nothing' / a

booke

14. Augusti

to be staied

Master Burby

Walter Burre

Entred for yeir [their] copie under the handes of master
Pasvill [i.e. Pasfeild] and ye Wardens. a booke

called Euery man in his humour.

[Arber's Transcript, iii, 159, 37, 169.]

Title-pages, 1600.

.vjd

The Comicall Satyre of Every Man out of his Humor. As it was first composed by the Author B. I. Containing more than hath been publikely Spoken or Acted. With the severall Character of every Person. [With an oblong printer's ornament of two winged satyr-like figures supporting a vase.] London, Printed for William Holme . . . 1600.

[Second edition, with same wording, but with Peter Short's device, and different signatures and setting of type.] London, Printed for William Holme . . . 1600.

[Third edition, with same wording.] London, Printed for Nicholas Linge, 1600.

John Bodenham, 1600.

To the Reader.

Now that euery one may be fully satisfied concerning this Garden, that no man doth assume to him-selfe the praise thereof, or can arrogate to his owne deseruing those things which haue been deriued from so many rare and ingenious spirits; I haue set down both how, whence, and where these flowres had their first springing, till thus they were drawne togither into the Muses Garden, that euery ground may challenge his owne, each plant his particular, and no one be iniuried in the iustice of his merit. . . out of . . .

Thomas, Earle of Surrey.

The Lord Marquesse of Winchester.

Mary, Countesse of Pembrooke.

Sir Philip Sidney.

From Poems and workes of these noble personages, extant. Edward, Earle of Oxenford.

Ferdinando, Earle of Derby.

Sir Walter Raleigh.

Sir Edward Dyer.

Fulke Greuile, Esquier.

Sir John Harrington.

From diuers essayes of their Poetrie; some extant among other Honourable personages writings; some from priuate labours and translations.

Edmund Spencer.

Henry Constable, Esquier.

Samuell Daniell.

Thomas Lodge, Doctor of Physicke.
Thomas Watson.

Michaell Drayton.

John Dauies.

Thomas Hudson.

Henrie Locke, Esquier.

John Marstone.

Christopher Marlow.

Beniamin Johnson.

William Shakspeare.

Thomas Churchyard, Esquier.

Thomas Nash.

Thomas Kidde.

George Peele.

Robert Greene.

Josuah Syluester.

Nicholas Breton.

Geruase Markham.

Thomas Storer.

Robert Wilmot.

Christopher Middleton.

Richard Barnefield.

These being Moderne and extant Poets, that have liu'd togither; from many of their extant workes, and some kept in priuat.

Thomas Norton Esquier.

George Gascoigne Esquier.

Frauncis Kindlemarsh, Esquier.

Thomas Atchlow.

George Whetstones.

These being deceased. . .

[Belvedere, or The Garden of the Muses, reprinted in The Spenser Society's Publications, 1875. The volume consists of a collection of brief extracts from the English poets mentioned above. Four passages are quoted from Jonson's The Case is Altered.]

Robert Allot, 1600.

[In his England's Parnassus, or The Choicest Flowers of our Modern Poets, Allot quotes: Every Man in his Humour, II, i, 223, and V, i, 265; Every Man out of his Humour, Induction, l. 181,

230, I, i, 343, I, i, 405, II, ii, 80, III, ii, 113, IV, iv, 188; The Forest, Epode XI; Underwoods, Ode to the Earl of Desmond. The following passages attributed to Jonson remain untraced:

Those that in blood such violent pleasure have,

Seldome descend but bleeding to their grave. (P. 159.)

Warres greatest woes, and miseries increase,
Flowes fro the surfets which we take in peace. (P. 171.)

Gold is a sutor, never tooke repulse,

It carries Palme with it, (where e're it goes)
Respect, and observation; it uncovers
The knottie heads of the most surly Groomes,
Enforcing yron doores to yeeld it way,
Were they as strong ram'd up as Aetna gates.
It bends the hams of Gossip Vigilance,

And makes her supple feete, as swift as winde.
It thawes the frostiest, and most stiffe disdaine:
Muffles the clearnesse of Election,

Straines fancie unto foule Apostacie.

And strikes the quickest-sighted Iudgement blinde.

Then why should we dispaire? dispaire? Away:

Where Gold's the Motive, women have.no Nay. (P. 192.)]

Phillomuse].

John Marston, 1600-01.

.

Believe it, Doricus, his spirit

Is higher blooded than to quake and pant

At the report of Scoff's artillery.

Shall he be crest-fall'n, if some looser brain,

In flux of wit uncivilly befilth

His slight composures? Shall his bosom faint,

If drunken Censure belch out sour breath
From Hatred's surfeit on his labour's front?
Nay, say some half a dozen rancorous breasts
Should plant themselves on purpose to discharge
Imposthum'd malice on his latest scene,

Shall his resolve be struck through with the blirt

Of a goose-breath? What imperfect-born,
What short-liv'd meteor, what cold-hearted snow
Would melt in dolour, cloud his mudded eyes,

Sink down his jaws, if that some juiceless husk,
Some boundless ignorance, should on sudden shoot
His gross-knobb'd burbolt with-" That's not so good;
Mew, blirt, ha, ha, light chaffy stuff!"

Why, gentle spirits, what loose-waving vane,
What anything, would thus be screw'd about
With each slight touch of odd phantasmatas?
No, let the feeble palsey'd lamer joints
Lean on opinion's crutches; let the-

Dor[icus]. Nay, nay, nay.

Heaven's my hope, I cannot smooth this strain;
Wit's death, I cannot. What a leprous humour
Breaks from rank swelling of these bubbling wits?
Now out upon 't, I wonder what tight brain,
Wrung in this custom to maintain contempt
'Gainst common censure; to give stiff counter-buffs,
To crack rude scorn even on the very face
Of better audience. Slight, is't not odious?
Why, hark you, honest, honest Philomuse
(You that endeavour to endear our thoughts
To the composer's spirit), hold this firm:
Music and poetry were first approved

By common sense; and that which pleasèd most,
Held most allowèd pass: know, rules of art

Were shaped to pleasure, not pleasure to your rules;
Think you, if that his scenes took stamp in mint

Of three or four deem'd most judicious,

It must enforce the world to current them,

That you must spit defiance on dislike?

Now, as I love the light, were I to pass
Through public verdict, I should fear my form,
Lest ought I offer'd were unsquared or warp'd.

The more we know, the more we want:
What Bayard bolder than the ignorant?