life of it standeth in that like sounding of the words, which we call rhyme. Whether of these be the most excellent, would bear many speeches. The ancient (no doubt) more fit for music, both words and tune observing quantity, and more fit lively to express divers passions, by the low and lofty sound of the well-weighed syllable. The latter likewise, with his rhyme, striketh a certain music to the ear: and, in fine, since it doth delight, though by another way, it obtains the same purpose: there being in either sweetness, and wanting in neither majesty. Truly the English, before any other vulgar language I know, is fit for both sorts: for, for the ancient, the Italian is so full of vowels that it must ever be cumbered with elisions; the Dutch so, of the other side, with consonants, that they cannot yield the sweet sliding fit for a verse; the French, in his whole language, hath not one word that hath his accent in the last syllable saving two, called Antepenultima; and little more hath the Spanish and, therefore, very gracelessly may they use dactyls. The English is subject to none of these defects.

Now, for the rhyme, though we do not observe quantity, yet we observe the accent very precisely : which other languages either cannot do, or will not do so absolutely. That caesura, or breathing place in the midst of the verse, neither Italian nor Spanish have, the French, and we, never almost fail of. Lastly, even the very rhyme itself the Italian cannot put in the last syllable, by the French named the 'masculine rhyme', but still in the next to the last, which the French call the 'female', or the next before that, which the Italians term sdrucciola. The example of the former is

buono suono, of the sdrucciola, femina : semina. The French, of the other side, hath both the male, as bon: son, and the female, as plaise: taise, but the sdrucciola he hath not where the English hath all three, as due: true, father: rather, motion : potion, with much more which might be said, but that I find already the triflingness of this discourse is much too much enlarged.

So that since the ever-praiseworthy Poesy is full of virtue-breeding delightfulness, and void of no gift that ought to be in the noble name of learning; since the blames laid against it are either false or feeble; since the cause why it is not esteemed in England is the fault of poet-apes, not poets; since, lastly, our tongue is most fit to honour Poesy, and to be honoured by Poesy; I conjure you all that have had the evil luck to read this ink-wasting toy of mine, even in the name of the Nine Muses, no more to scorn the sacred mysteries of Poesy, no more to laugh at the name of 'poets', as though they were next inheritors to fools, no more to jest at the reverent title of a 'rhymer'; but to believe, with Aristotle, that they were the ancient treasurers of the Grecians' Divinity; to believe, with Bembus, that they were first bringers-in of all civility; to believe, with Scaliger, that no philosopher's precepts can sooner make you an honest man than the reading of Virgil; to believe, with Clauserus, the translator of Cornutus, that it pleased the heavenly Deity, by Hesiod and Homer, under the veil of fables, to give us all knowledge, Logic, Rhetoric, Philosophy, natural and moral, and Quid non?; to believe, with me, that there are many mysteries contained in Poetry, which of purpose were written darkly, lest by profane wits

it should be abused; to believe, with Landino, that they are so beloved of the gods that whatsoever they write proceeds of a divine fury; lastly, to believe themselves, when they tell you they will make you immortal by their verses.

Thus doing, your name shall flourish in the printers' shops; thus doing, you shall be of kin to many a poetical preface; thus doing, you shall be most fair, most rich, most wise, most all; you shall dwell upon superlatives. Thus doing, though you be libertino patre natus, you shall suddenly grow Herculea proles,

Si quid mea carmina possunt.

Thus doing, your soul shall be placed with Dante's Beatrix, or Virgil's Anchises. But if (fie of such a but) you be born so near the dull-making cataract of Nilus that you cannot hear the planet-like music of Poetry, if you have so earth-creeping a mind that it cannot lift itself up to look to the sky of Poetry, or rather, by a certain rustical disdain, will become such a Mome as to be a Momus of Poetry; then, though I will not wish unto you the ass's ears of Midas, nor to be driven by a poet's verses (as Bubonax was) to hang himself, nor to be rhymed to death, as is said to be done in Ireland; yet thus much curse I must send you, in the behalf of all poets, that while you live, you live in love, and never get favour for lacking skill of a Sonnet, and, when you die, your memory die from the earth for want of an Epitaph.

THOMAS CAMPION

From OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF
ENGLISH POESY

[1602]

THE FIRST CHAPTER, INTREATING OF NUMBERS

IN GENERAL

THERE is no writing too brief that, without obscurity, comprehends the intent of the writer. These my late observations in English Poesy I have thus briefly gathered, that they might prove the less troublesome in perusing, and the more apt to be retained in memory. And I will first generally handle the nature of Numbers. Number is discreta quantitas: so that when we speak simply of number, we intend only the dissevered quantity; but when we speak of a poem written in number, we consider not only the distinct number of the syllables, but also their value, which is contained in the length or shortness of their sound. As in Music we do not say a strain of so many notes, but so many semibreves (though sometimes there are no more notes than semibreves), so in a verse the numeration of the syllables is not so much to be observed as their weight and due proportion. In joining of words to harmony there is nothing more offensive to the ear than to place a long syllable with a short note, or a short syllable with a long note, though in the last the vowel often bears it out. The world is made by symmetry and proportion, and is in that respect compared to Music,

and Music to Poetry for Terence saith, speaking of poets, artem qui tractant musicam, confounding Music and Poesy together. What music can there be where there is no proportion observed? Learning first flourished in Greece; from whence it was derived unto the Romans, both diligent observers of the number and quantity of syllables, not in their verses only but likewise in their prose. Learning, after the declining of the Roman Empire and the pollution of their language through the conquest of the Barbarians, lay most pitifully deformed till the time of Erasmus, Reuchlin, Sir Thomas More, and other learned men of that age, who brought the Latin tongue again to light, redeeming it with much labour out of the hands of the illiterate monks and friars: as a scoffing book, entitled Epistolae obscurorum virorum, may sufficiently testify. In those lack-learning times, and in barbarized Italy, began that vulgar and easy kind of Poesy which is now in use throughout most parts of Christendom, which we abusively call Rhyme and Metre, of Rithmus and Metrum, of which I will now discourse.

THE SECOND CHAPTER, DECLARING THE INAPTNESS OF RHYME IN POESY

I am not ignorant that whosoever shall by way of reprehension examine the imperfections of Rhyme must encounter with many glorious enemies, and those very expert and ready at their weapon, that can if need be extempore (as they say) rhyme a man to death. Besides, there is grown a kind of prescription in the use of Rhyme, to forestall the