SOURCE: Sanderson, James L. “The Social Applications of Poetry.” In Sir John Davies, pp. 83-110. Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1975.

[In the following essay, Sanderson analyzes Davies's use of poetry to further his social status.]

The success a man like Davies sought in the courtly society of Elizabethan England depended not only upon his means and abilities but also upon his social connections. To stand out in London among so many gifted and ambitious men demanded the support and intercessory talents of a patron (or patrons), one who had made his way up Fortune's hill and was willing to give a hand up to another, perhaps by mentioning his name at an opportune moment, by directing some preferment his way, by introducing him to those who might also interest themselves in his career—or, when one was in difficulty for having attacked a fellow student at the Middle Temple—by exerting the right pressure to restore one's lost opportunities.

We have already seen that Davies had succeeded in enlisting the support of powerful and influential men, but of interest is the part Davies' literary talents played in winning and maintaining that support. The relationship of literature and patronage in this period is very important, and one which has received considerable scholarly attention.¹ John F. Danby has formulated an interesting classification of Elizabethan poets in terms of their relationships to their society and to their patrons.² According to Danby, Sidney was a writer happily above the need for patronage, for his favorable aristocratic position freed him from having to cater to a particular audience. Consequently, his poetry is devised chiefly to satisfy himself and his individual apprehension of truth. In contrast, Spenser's dedication to his poetic vision of truth embraced a deeper concern about how that vision, learnedly and artfully expressed, might impress Leicester or Elizabeth with its author's mental abilities and flatter them with so impressive a form of homage. Spenser's poetry bids for public notice and national recognition: “Where Sidney was writing for himself Spenser was writing for an audience; an audience, however, sage, sophisticated, serious, and civilized. He is the poet poeticizing in public.”³ Donne appears as a third type, a “gentleman-poet” who sought no particular reward or distinction for his poems as such, but employed his poetry “as a kind of leverage” to gain access to the houses of the great: “to grapple the rich prize to his heart with hoops of conceits.”⁴ In yet another category, Danby places poets like Ben Jonson and Shakespeare, professional writers whose careers patrons could enhance and make easier, but whose demonstrable talents and more or less steady employment in the theaters afforded them considerable independence in their work.

Davies best seems to take a position near Donne in Danby's third category, for much of his writing is directed toward the benefits that his witty and entertaining efforts might earn him from the great. His work was certainly not that of a man, sequestered from the concerns of getting on and pleasing others, who sought only the lonely personal satisfaction that verbal expression might afford. Rather, his poetry seems in large measure outwardly directed; it is prompted by a social muse to entertain his fellows with witty epigrams and parodies and to amuse a friend with an ingenious poem on dancing. Even so somber and philosophical a poem as Nosce Teipsum is clearly given a social context in its dedication to the Queen and in Davies' presenting manuscript gift copies to eminent men. But a number of his poems are even more overtly related to Davies' desire for promotion and for earning the good will of the powerful. These are works written as compliments or panegyrics, in honor of important occasions, and as social entertainments in the homes of important men.

I. THE POET AS CELEBRANT

One of the long-established modes of complimenting and flattering someone was through the formal dedication of a work to him. Presumably, the dedication was a gesture of the writer's esteem or his appreciation for a patron's encouragement and support. For one so honored the dedication was a source of social prestige for the recipient thought worthy of such a work. The Gulling Sonnets, it will be recalled, bore a dedicatory sonnet to Sir Anthony Cooke, whose superior judgment, Davies indicated, would concur with his own contempt for “The bastard Sonnetts of these Rymers bace.” As we have seen, Orchestra was first dedicated to Richard Martin, Davies' “very friend,” whom the poet praised for his “mellifluous tongue.” Nosce Teipsum was published with an elaborate thirty-four line dedication to Elizabeth. In it Davies offered his thoughts concerning the immortality of the soul:

To the diuinest and the richest minde,
          Both by Art's purchase and by Nature's dowre,
          That euer was from Heau'n to Earth confin'd,
          To shew the vtmost of a creature's power:
To that great Spirit, which doth great kingdomes
                              mooue,
          The sacred spring whence right and honor streames,
          Distilling Vertue, shedding Peace and Loue,
          In euery place, as Cynthia sheds her beames.(5)

Climaxing his compliment, he wished the Queen,

O! Many, many yeares may you remaine,
          A happy angell to this happy Land;
          Long, long may you on Earth our empresse raigne,
          Ere you in Heauen a glorious angell stand.
Stay long (sweet spirit) ere thou to Heauen depart,
Which mak'st each place a heauen wherein thou art.(6)

Thrifty in making one poem serve for more than one master, Davies had manuscript copies of Nosce Teipsum prepared for select individuals. One such copy is preserved at Holkham Hall (in Norfolk), and it has a dedication “To my honorable patron and frend Ed. Cooke, Esq., her M^ties Attorney-Generall.” A second copy can be found at Alnwick Castle dedicated “to the right noble, valorous, and learned Prince Henry, Earle of Northumberland.”⁷ Davies praised Northumberland for his “winged spirit” and for his desire “to learne and know the truth” of all things; moreover, it expressed his appreciation to one who “did protect me in distress,” presumably a reference to the troubled period following Davies' attack on Martin.⁸ Two of Davies' later prose treatises bear significant dedications: A Discoverie of the True Causes was dedicated to King James, and Le Primer Report des Cases was prefaced by an “Epistle-Dedicatory” “To the Right Honovrable My Singvlar Good Lord, Thomas Lord Ellesmere, Lord Chancellor of England.”

In addition, Davies wrote poems of overt praise and deliberate compliment; and Queen Elizabeth figures prominently as a subject for such efforts. Davies had earlier worked into the texture of Orchestra graceful compliments to the Queen and her court, as Penelope beheld the image of “Our glorious English Courts diuine image, / As it should be in this our Golden Age” (St. 126), presided over by Elizabeth. Among his minor poems occur other tributes to the Queen. “To the Q[ueene],” for example, gracefully develops analogies between music and the Queen's harmonizing power over her kingdom:

What Musicke shall we make to you?
          To whome the strings of all men's harts
Make musicke of ten thousand parts:
          In tune and measure true,
          With straines and changes new.
How shall wee fraime a harmony
Worthie your eares, whose princely hands
Keepe harmony in sundry lands:
          Whose people divers be,
          In station and degree?
                    Heauen's tunes may onely please,
                    and not such aires as theise.
For you which downe from heauen are sent
Such peace vpon the earth to bring,
Haue h[e]ard y(e) quire of Angells sing:
          and all the sphaeres consent,
          Like a sweete instrument.
How then should theise harsh tunes you heare
Created of y(e) trubled ayer,
breed but distand—when you repaire—
to your celestiall eare?
So that this center here
          for you no musicke fynds,
          but harmony of mynds.(9)

In addition, Elizabeth is probably the subject of “A Maid's Hymne in Praise of Virginity,” as well as of “Elegies of Loue,” both of which contain images of the sun's reviving the poet's Muse similar to those of the dedicatory verses of Nosce Teipsum.¹⁰

But it is in the Hymnes of Astraea,¹¹ published in 1599 some months following Nosce Teipsum, that Davies' most artfully sustained and concentrated adulation of the aging but still powerful Queen appears. The work is a series of twenty-six, sixteen-line poems each in three stanzas of five, five, and six lines. Davies set himself difficult limits within which to articulate his panegyrics. In all twenty-six Hymnes he follows a regular rhyme pattern of AABAB CCDCD in the first two stanzas, permitting occasional variations from the dominant pattern of EEFGGF in the third stanzas. The prevailing meter is iambic tetrameter, but considerable variation in meter occurs, perhaps because the poems were designed to be sung as “hymns.” In addition, as an artfully clever compliment to Elizabeth, the poems are all acrostics: the initial letters of the lines read downward spell the royal name ELISABETHA REGINA, as in the following example:

HYMNE II.

TO ASTRAEA.

Eternall Virgin, Goddesse true,
Let me presume to sing to you.
Ioue, euen great Ioue hath leasure
Sometimes to heare the vulgar crue,
And heares them oft with pleasure.
Blessèd Astraea, I in part
Enjoy the blessings you impart;
The Peace, the milke and hony,
Humanitie, and civil Art,
A richer dower then money.
Right glad am I that now I liue,
Euen in these dayes whereto you giue
Great happinesse and glory;
If after you I should be borne,
No doubt I should my birth-day scorne,
Admiring your sweet storie.

Such verbal contrivance strikes some modern readers as an abuse of talent; as one critic puts it, they are “the last word in Elizabethan ‘foppery,’”¹² or another, “a silly tour de force that vanishes from consciousness in proportion as it is successful.”¹³ But interest in such verbal tricks and complicated formal patterning was fashionable among the court poets of Davies' time. Like the mastery of prosody and the more traditional poetic forms, they were a part of the poet's competence in his craft, the manifestation of his “art” as a “maker.”¹⁴ While such cleverness was perhaps often more a matter of clever parlor entertainment than of serious concern, ingenious formal elements sometimes were involved with very great poems, such as the famous Epithalamion in which Spenser celebrates his own wedding day, and, as A. Kent Hieatt has so brilliantly demonstrated, correlates the poem's twenty-four stanzas with the twenty-four hours of his wedding day, even signaling the coming of night in the stanza appropriate to the exact hour in which night fell on his wedding day.¹⁵

Poetic tributes to Elizabeth came forth in profusion during her long reign.¹⁶ Her significance for her subjects was complex. While many looked to her for special favors and, in serving and lauding her, no doubt sought chiefly their own advantage, many had a genuine admiration for her attractive personal qualities and talents, and respected her ability to bring England safely through perilous times. She was able to inspire tremendous efforts and daring in her courtiers and subjects, and the poets of the times wrote of her as if she were the object of some great chivalric love or religious adoration. Some addressed her as Cynthia, Diana, Phebe, Pandora, Gloriana; others deemed it appropriate to speak of her with the titles and expressions of worship usually reserved for the Virgin Mary. But Astraea, goddess of justice, and the rich associations that had grown up about her, attracted Davies as the most suitable analogy for his celebration of Elizabeth's regal qualities.¹⁷

In ancient Greek mythology, the virgin goddess Astraea—in some accounts, the daughter of Zeus and Themis; in others, of Astraeus the Titan and Eus, or Aurora—distributed blessings to mankind during the Golden Age. She withdrew to the mountains during the Silver Age; and, finally, offended by man's growing rapacities and violence, she fled to the heavens where she may be seen as the constellation Virgo. Various qualities attributed to her are reflected in such images as her crown of stars, recalling her “stellified” state; a pair of scales, representing her devotion to justice; and an ear of corn, suggesting the plenty of life's blessings which she had bestowed on man, especially during the halcyon days of the Golden Age.¹⁸

She figures in Virgil's influential Fourth Eclogue, which prophesies the advent of a new golden age of peace and political stability. In later writers, especially in Dante, Astraea is connected with imperial ideals of universal empire;¹⁹ and, during the Renaissance, she is associated with Reformation ideas of the rebirth of a purified Christian faith and the synthesis of political and clerical rule.

In the Hymnes, Davies draws upon this rich complex of associations for the principal themes praising Elizabeth. We may discern a thematic ordering in the collection. The first two Hymnes establish the figure of Astraea as the controlling symbol for the work, a symbol to which Elizabeth is explicitly related by the acrostic on her name. Astraea is hailed as “The Mayd” who “Hath brought againe the golden dayes / And all the world amended” (“Hymne I”), who has imparted the blessings of “Peace, the milke and hony, / Humanitie, and civil Art” (“Hymne II”) to the land.

“Hymnes III-XII” are concerned primarily with Astraea/Elizabeth as she relates to or is reflected in the outer world. She is associated with such images of renewed life as the “Liuely Spring which makes all new” (“Hymne III”); the “sweet moneth of May” (“Hymne IV”); the morning Larke singing her praises to the heavens (“Hymne V”); the rose as the “Queen of flowres,” the “Sweet nurse-child of the Spring's young howres” (“Hymne VII”); the flowering of the Muses, “The new fresh Howres and Graces” at her court in Greenwich (“Hymne IX”); and the fruition and harvest time of September, the month of Elizabeth's birth (“Hymne X”).²⁰

“Hymne XII,” which speaks of the inadequacy of a picture (“Rude counterfeit”) justly to portray her true beauty, offers a transition to “Hymnes XIII-XXV,” which celebrate Elizabeth's unseen glories—her mental qualities (“Hymnes XIII-XIX”), the “passions of her Heart” “euer rul'd with Honor” (“Hymne XX”), and such regal qualities of character as wisdom, justice, magnanimity, and moderation (“Hymnes XXI-XXV”).

The series concludes, somewhat flatly, with a hymn addressed “To Enuy,” in which the poet scorns invidious suggestions that his pen is for hire, and insists that he writes only from his genuine admiration. Although no evidence survives of Davies' reaping any special benefits from these “dainty trifles,” we presume that the Queen was pleased to be honored in so ingenious a way. For most modern readers, the Hymnes probably are of interest chiefly as historical curiosities. But occasionally we come across one or two of the Hymnes, such as “III” and “V,” which retain intrinsic poetic charm.

II. A POET FOR ALL OCCASIONS

Davies wrote some poems which might best be called “occasional,” that is, poems written for particular events. It is likely that Davies wrote more of this kind of poetry than has survived. Although much of what is extant is not very impressive, it does offer another indication of the social applications Davies made of his poetic talents.

For the publication of Ovid's Banquet of Sense (1595) by fellow poet George Chapman, Davies contributed two prefatory sonnets of commendation.²¹ He sent a sonnet of condolence to Ellesmere, his loyal supporter, entitled “On the Death of Lord Chancellor Ellesmere's Second Wife in 1599.” Signed “Yr. Lps in all humble Duties and condoling with yr. Lp. most affectionately Jo. Davys,” the poem says more of the living than of the dead; it focuses more on the Chancellor's qualities of mind and heart than on the loss of his wife:

You that in Judgement passion neuer show,
          (As still a Judge should without passion bee),
So judge your self; and make not in your woe
          Against your self a passionate decree.
Griefe may become so weake a spirit as mine:
          My prop is fallne, and quenched is my light:
But th' Elme may stand, when with'red is the vine,
          And, though the Moone eclipse, the Sunne is bright.
Yet were I senseless if I wisht your mind,
          Insensible, that nothing might it moue;
As if a man might not bee wise and kind.
          Doubtlesse the God of Wisdome and of Loue,
As Solomon's braine he doth to you impart,
          So hath he given you David's tender hart.(22)

John Payne Collier reprinted from Ellesmere's papers the following interesting note which was appended to the sonnet: “A French Writer (whom I love well) speakes of three kindes of Companions, Men Women, and Bookes: the losse of this second makes you retire from the first: I haue, therefore presum'd to send y^r Lp one of the third kind w^ch (it may bee), is a stranger to your Lp. yet I persuade me his conversation will not be disagreeable to y^r Lp.”²³

In addition to Davies' journeying with others to Scotland to meet with James after the Queen's death, Davies greeted James and his queen on their “first coming into England” with two poems. Both written in the stanza form of Nosce Teipsum, they are entitled “The Kinges Welcome” and “To the Queene at the Same Time.”²⁴ In the first, Davies sends his “gentle muse” to find the king, who will be readily recognized by “his reall markes and true”:

Looke ouer all that divers troope, and finde
whoe hath his spirites most Jouiall and free,
whose bodie is best tempred, and whose minde
Is ever best in tune, and that is hee.
See who it is whose actions doe bewraye
that threefold power, which rarely mixt we see;
a iudgment graue, and yet a fancie gaye,
Joynd with a ritch remembrance, that is hee.
Marke who it is, that hath all noble skill,
which maye to publique good referrèd bee;
the quickest witt, and best affected will,
whence flowes a streame of vertues, that is hee.
If any more then other clearely wise
or wisely iust or iustly valiant be;
If any doe fainte pleasures more despise,
or be more maister of himselfe, 'tis hee.(25)

Davies extolls the king for nine more stanzas; and, although such open courting of a superior's favor may seem excessive and repulsive today, it was commonplace in Jacobean times; and Davies' poem is no more fulsome than many similar expressions from the aspiring.²⁶

Other of his occasional poems concern royal tributes. On James' death, Davies not only hastened to kiss the hand of his new king, Charles I, but also wrote poems for him, such as “Mira Loquor Sol Occubuit Nox Nulla Secuta Est,” “Charles His Waine,” and “Of the Name of Charolus, Being the Diminative of Charus.”²⁷ Perhaps the light and witty “Verses Sent to the Kinge With Figges: By S^r John Davis” was also directed to Charles. Although Grosart offers no comment about them, “The Faire Ladyes,” “Upon a Paire of Garters,” and “To His Lady-Love” are apparently “occasional” verse.²⁸

Davies' most significant and interesting occasional poem, published for the first time only a few years ago, is an epithalamion written to celebrate an important wedding among the nobility. This poem is found in Leweston Fitzjames' commonplace book, which, as noted earlier, preserves the texts of the Epigrams and Orchestra. Falconer Madan mentioned the poem in his catalogue description of the manuscript,²⁹ but it received no careful attention or discussion until the Reverend Childs' study of Davies.³⁰ In 1962, Robert Krueger published a transcription of the text.³¹

The poem is headed: “Epithalamion Io: Dauisij,” and its conclusion is marked “Finis 95. Ian:.” Fitzjames was Davies' fellow student at the Middle Temple and would probably have known Davies' poetry well. His attribution, accepted both by Childs and by Krueger, seems reliable. In addition, as Krueger points out,³² the “Epithalamion” contains diction, ideas, and images quite similar to those in Orchestra, similarities that suggest a common authorship for the two poems and a date of composition for the “Epithalamion” near that of Orchestra.

The “Epithalamion” has genuine charm and merit. Since it is relatively unfamiliar and less readily accessible than Davies' other poems, I reproduce the text below transcribed from Fitzjames' commonplace book (fols. 49^r-51^r):³³

EPITHALAMION IO: DAUISIJ

Loue not that Loue that is a child and blynde,
But that Heroicke honorable Loue,
Which first the fightinge Elements combinde,
And taught the world in harmony to moue
          That God of Loue whose sweet attractiue power
          First founded cityes, and societyes,
          Which linkes trewe frendes, and to each paramor,
          (That virtewe loues) a virtewous Loue affies.
This Loue hath causd the Muses to record,
Their sweetest tuens and most celestiall,
To you sweet Lady, and to you great Lorde,
In honor of your joyfull nuptiall.
          And to their tuens this prayer they still apply,
          That with your dayes your joyes maye multiplye.

CLIO.

Illustrious Lord heire of that happy race,
Which with great Lordshipps doth great Loue inherit,
Raysd by the heavens vnto that glorious place,
Which your great grawnseirs did by virtewe merit.
          And you sweete Lady virtewes noble fayre,
          Whome when I name, your grandsier, father,
                    Mother,
          (Of all whose excellencies you are heire,)
          I then extoll, and prayse aboue all other,
Your famous Auncestors eternall names,
My diamond pen in adamant shall write,
And I will spread your owne younge louing fames,
As far as Phœbus spreades his glorious light
          Still with my tuens importuninge the skye,
          That with your dayes your Joyes maye multiplye.

THALIA.

And I the merry Muse of Comedyes,
That with a marriage euer end my playe,
Will into mirth and greatest joye arise,
While I applawd this blessed marriage daye,
          Yet will I sadly praye my Father Joue,
          That as crosse chaunce fought not agaynst your
                    will,
          In the fayre course of your most happy Loue,
          So with out crosse ye maye continewe still.
That as the voyce and Echo doe agree,
So maye you both, both doe, and saye the same,
And as your eyes beinge two, but one thinge see,
So maye ye to one end your actions frame,
          So shall your lyves be a sweete harmonye,
          And with your dayes your Joyes shall multiplye.

MELPOMENE.

And I which sownd the tragicke tuens of ware,
Haue layd my harsh and fearfull Trumpe aside,
Wher with I vsd to rende the ayre a fare,
In seruice of your cosin bewtious bride.
          Your most victorious cosin warlike Vere,
          The glory of your glorious familye,
          A brauer spirit the earth did neuer beare,
          Since first the fyer of lyfe came from the skye,
This fyery starre of Mars my trumpett tooke,
And put a warblinge lute betwine my handes,
And with a joyfull voyce and joyfull looke,
Sent me to blesse these sacred marriage bandes,
          And to commend his vowes to Joue on hie,
          That with your dayes your joyes maye multiplye.

EUTERPE.

And I betwine whose lipps the ayre doth playe,
Chaunginge her wanton forme ten thousand wayes,
Will not distingwish one halfe note this daye,
Which shall not sownd both to your joye and prayse,
          For euen your marriage doth sweete musicke make,
          Like two sweete notes matcht in an vnisone,
          Where each from other doth full sweetnesse take,
          Where one could make no harmony aloane,
Longe maye you Joye such sympathye of Loues,
As doth betwine the Elme and Vine remayne,
Or betwine palme trees, twinns, and turtle doues,
Wher in one lyfe doth live the lives of twayne,
          Longe live you in each other mutually,
          That with your dayes your Joyes maye multiplye.

TERPSICHORE.

And I whose cunninge feete with measurd motion,
Expresse the musicke which my Sisters singe
Will nowe in songes expresse my trewe devotion,
To you which to my Arte most honor bringe,
          For who can dawnce with better skill and [grace],
          Then you great bridgroome or then you fayr bride,
          Whether a solleme measure ye doe pase,
          Or els with swifter tuens more swiftly slide.
Still maye you dawnce and keepe that measure still,
In all your lyfe which you in dawncinge shewe,
Where both the man and woman haue one will,
And both at once the selfe same paces goe.
          So shall you never drawe your yoke awry,
But with your dayes, your joyes shall multiply.

ERATO.

And I the waytinge mayde of bewtyes Queene,
Which oft am wonte to singe of wanton Loue,
Since I these sacred nuptials haue seene,
An other godhead in my brest doth moue,
          For nowe I singe of bewty of the minde,
          Which bewtifies the fayrest outward bewty,
          And of a passion which is neuer blinde
          But waytes on virtewe with respectfull dutye.
O sacred Love wher one loves only one,
Where each to other is a mirror fayre,
Wherin them selues are each to other shone,
Such is your sacred loue illustrious payre,
          Whose fyer like Vestas flame shall neuer dye,
          But with your dayes your joyes shall multiplye.

POLYHIMNIA.

And I which with my gesture seeme to speake,
Will speake indeede in honor of this daye,
Which shall to Joue passe through the milkey waye.
          Euen to the eares of Joue my tuens shall come
          And be for you (sweet bride) a zealous praier
          That as a cherye graft vppon a plumme,
          You maye be fruitfull in your issues fayre.
Or that you and your Love be like two streames,
Which meeting after many windes and crookes,
Doe spread their mingled waues through many realmes,
And from them selues diriue a thousande brookes,
          And though the lesser loose her name therby,
          Yet with her dayes, her Joyes shall multiplye.

CALLIOPE.

And I which singe th' eroicke Loue of Kinges,
Must vse like notes whiles I your names rehearse,
For he which your great names in number singes,
With names of Princes doth adorne his verse.
          And princly is your match as gold and Pearle,
          Both bewtifull each other bewtifie,
          So an earls daughter married to an Erle,
          Giues and receaves like honor mutually.
And as the purest cullors which alone,
Sett by themselves imperfect bewty make,
Wher they are mingled and conjoynd in one,
One from an other lyfe and lustre take,
          So you beinge matcht each other glorifie,
          That with your dayes your Joyes maye multiplye.
And with my sweetest tuens the ayre will breake,

VRANIA.

But I the Muse of Heauen to heauen will rayse [you]
And your fayre names in starry letters write,
That they which dwell vnder both poles maye prayse you,
And in rehearsall of your names delight.
          And you fayre Bride shall like fayre Cynthia sh[ine]
          Which beinge in conjunction with the Sunne,
          Doth seeme her beames & glory to resigne,
          But hath indeede more light and virtewe wonne.
Longe shall you shine on earth like Lampes of heaven,
Which when you leaue, I will you stellifie,
To you sweete bride shall Hebes place be giuen,
But your Lord shall his Ganimedes roome supplye.
Till when I will invoke each dyetye,
That with your Dayes your joyes maye multipl(ye).

FINIS. 95. IAN:

The likely occasion for this poem can be determined by two significant allusions in the fourth and ninth sonnets, and the event is confirmed by Fitzjames' date. Melpomene states that she has put aside her “harsh and fearfull Trumpe,” which she had used in the service of the bride's “most victorious cosin warlike Vere,” an allusion to Francis Vere (1560-1609), the “illustrious Vere” mentioned in Davies' “Epigram No. 40.”³⁴ Calliope, accustomed to “singe th'eroicke Loue of Kinges,” offers to “vse like notes” for this couple because “an earls daughter married to an Erle, / Gives and receaves like honor mutually.” These allusions and the date of 1595 point to the wedding of Elizabeth Vere, daughter of the seventeenth Earl of Oxford and the granddaughter of William Cecil, Lord Burghley, to William Stanley, sixth Earl of Derby. The wedding took place at Greenwich on January 26, 1595.³⁵ Its prominence and the prestige of the families involved interestingly reflect the important social and political circles whose attention Davies was attracting by his verse.

Davies' “Epithalamion” is of considerable historical interest as an early example in English of a kind of poem soon to become quite popular. Students of this ancient form have traced its origin back to early nuptial folk songs. As its literal meaning suggests, it was a special marriage song sung “at the bridal chamber,” prior to the consummation of the marriage, and perhaps as an evocation of fertility. By the time Sappho was writing epithalamia—only fragments of which have survived—the term had broadened to include several kinds of songs customary at weddings. Early in its history, the epithalamion treated fictive as well as real weddings, as in Theocritus' Eighteenth Eclogue, which concerns the wedding of Helen and Menelaus. It was also incorporated into dramas and narrative poems. Among Latin poets, Ovid, Statius, and Claudius further developed the form, but it was Catullus' nuptial poems Carmina 61, 62, and 64 which exerted the greatest influence on Renaissance writers of epithalamia. In the fifteenth century, Continental neo-Latin poets imitated these poems of Catullus; and, in the following century, Tasso in Italy and the Pléiade poets in France wrote such poems in their vernaculars. The epithalamion had, thus, become a recognized kind of poem, one of importance because of its Classical precedents, recent examples by major poets, and critical attention by Scaliger in Poeticus libri septem (1561).

The form was not naturalized in English until Sir Philip Sidney wrote the first formal English epithalamion, the pastoral song among the Third Eclogues of Arcadia (1593) that is sung by Dicus for the marriage of Kala and Lalus. Spenser's much greater Epithalamion, published with his Amoretti in 1595, is the only other known example prior to Davies' poem. Thereafter the epithalamion enjoyed a considerable vogue; and most of the major and many of the minor poets of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries wrote such nuptial poems.³⁶

As a student of contemporary English poetry, Davies may well have known Spenser's poem and been influenced in a general way by it. Spenser's great achievement may have illustrated the epithalamion's potentials and thereby encouraged Davies to attempt one. In certain technical matters, such as the complex stanzas interlinked by a common refrain, Davies may have found some suggestions for his own poem. Aside from these rather general possibilities, however, I find no evidence of Davies' specific indebtedness to Spenser's poem; but there seems more reason to think that Davies did owe some debt to Sidney's “Songe” assigned to Dicus in the Arcadia. In Orchestra, under the name of Astrophel, Davies had praised Sidney, “Whose supple Muse Camelion-like doth change / Into all formes of excellent deuise”; and it is likely that he knew the poems Sidney had included in his complex pastoral romance Arcadia.

Dicus's “Songe” is a series of eleven nine-line stanzas, rhyming ABABBCCDD, each concluding with the line: “O Himen long their coupled joyes maintaine,” a refrain similar to Davies'.³⁷ While there are many important differences, there are also some interesting parallels in idea and image between the two poems. In the opening sonnet, Davies distinguishes between “that Love that is a child and blynde” and “that Heroicke honorable Love” which brought order and harmony to the “fighting Elements.” Sidney opens his poem by distinguishing between “justest love” and “Cupid's powers,” the former having “vanquished” the latter, whose “warr of thoughts is swallow'd up in peace” (ll. 4-5). Of love's union, Davies' Euterpe sings: “Longe maye you Joye such sympathye of Loues, / As doth betwine the Elm and Vine remayne” (ll. 65-66): Dicus wishes that Kala and Lalus “may ever bide, like to the Elme and vyne, / With mutuall embracements them to twyne” (ll. 14-16). The merging of rivers figures in both poems, the image serving as a vehicle for different tenors: Polyhimnia pictures the fruitful issue of the marriage, wishing

… that you and your Love be like two streames,
Which meeting after many windes and crookes,
Doe spread their mingled waves through many realmes,
And from themselves dirive a thousand brookes. …

(ll. 106-9)

Dicus uses the analogy as an illustration of the lovers' union in death:

Let one time (but long first) close up their daies,
          One grave their bodies seaze:
          And like two rivers sweete,
          When they though divers do together meete:
          One streame both streames containe,
          O Himen long their coupled joyes maintaine.

(ll. 31-35)

While such images can be found elsewhere and are perhaps among a common store drawn upon by many poets of the time, it may be that they are echoes of Sidney in “Epithalamion,” as Davies attempted, for himself and English poetry, a new kind of poem.

Davies' idea of developing his poem as a series of songs sung by the Muses probably owes something to other writers and to general tradition. Spenser had recently summoned the same goddesses in The Teares of the Muses (1591), albeit for a series of lugubrious laments about the contemporary disregard of poetry. In a note to Spenser's poem in the Variorum Edition, W. L. Renwick suggests a possible indebtedness by Spenser to Ronsard's Dialogue entre les Muses Deslogées et Ronsard; but he observes that the idea is not a recondite one and that George Buchanan and others had also employed these goddesses for courtly pageantry.³⁸ In a study of Renaissance epithalamia, Virginia Tufte finds among French wedding poems a fairly frequent use of alternating choruses sung by river nymphs, shepherds, virgins, and the Muses. Particularly interesting is Antoine de Baïf's “Epithalame. À Monsieur Morel Ambrunoys,” which opens with a stanza by Apollo, followed by one from each of the nine Muses, and closes with one by Himen.³⁹ Whatever anticipations there may have been of his idea, Davies employs it skillfully to pay a graceful and dignified compliment to his social betters, Elizabeth, William, and their distinguished families.

In the course of the poem, Davies develops many of the themes which had become conventional to the formal epithalamion; but, by assigning them to the individual goddesses, he adds a quasi-dramatic effect to the lyric character of the individual songs. Davies observes a degree of dramatic decorum by accommodating the song to the singer, assigning them “tuens” relevant to their traditional interests in the arts. Clio, as the Muse of History, appropriately recalls and lauds the couple's “famous Auncestors eternall names”; and Urania, the “Muse of Heaven,” offers to “stellifie” the couple at their deaths and to write their “fayre names in starry letters.” In fact, we can easily imagine Davies' “Epithalamion” performed as a pageant-like entertainment in which young ladies appropriately costumed and bearing identifying emblems—Melpomene's lute, Euterpe's flute, and so forth—actually sang their songs before the bridal couple and their guests.⁴⁰

Varied by the idea and speakers, the poem is unified in several ways. First, a dignified, formal, “proper” tone prevails throughout as appropriate to the celebration of such an important social occasion by a young man of Davies' social position. The poet, who avoids any detailed consideration of the physical aspects of the marriage, omits the anatomical inventory of the bride or suggestive playfulness concerning the consummation of the marriage, motifs which occur fairly frequently in other epithalamia. Erato is properly on her good behavior: instead “of wanton love,” she sings of “bewty of the minde.” And Thalia, the Muse of Comedy, is modest and dignified in her mirth.

Not only the tone but also several formal elements serve to unify the poem. There is, for example, a discernible order in the series of songs. Following the introductory sonnet, the songs move in temporal order from past, to present, to future; that is, from praise of the couple's ancestry and the occasion of the marriage, to comments concerning the marriage relationship, to a wish that the union be fruitful and that its issue bring honor to the couple, to a conclusion promising the couple's elevation to heaven following a hope for long life on earth. Moreover, as in other of his works, Davies set rigid and difficult formal limits within which to develop his poem. Each of the songs is a “Shakespearean” sonnet—another reminder of Davies' facility in adapting the sonnet to a variety of purposes. All of the sonnets have identical rhyme patterns and are gracefully linked by the recurring refrain.

The images which develop the theme of love's union and order, as well as the praise sung throughout, give unity to the poem. Following the initial statement praising love as the force which “first the fighting Elements combined, / And taught the world in harmony to move,” Thalia wishes that the couple's love will continue without “crosse chaunce,” and

That as the voyce and Echo doe agree,
So maye you both, both doe, and saye the same,
And as your eyes beinge two, but one thinge see,
So maye ye to one end your actions frame,
          So shall your lyves be a sweet harmonye. …

Euterpe develops the analogy between the union of music and that of marriage:

For euen your marriage doth sweete musicke make,
Like two sweete notes matcht in an vnisone,
Where each from other doth full sweetnesse take,
Where one could make no harmony aloane. …

Terpsichore, predictably, pictures love's union in terms of the ordered movements of the dance:

Still maye you dawnce and keepe that measure still,
In all your lyfe which you in dawncinge shewe,
Where both the man and woman haue one will,
And both at once the selfe same paces goe.

Erato praises their “sacred Love,” “Where each to other is a mirror fayre, / Wherein them selves are each to other shone.” Polyhimnia's wish, as already noted, pictures the lovers and their fruitful issue as two rivers becoming one. Finally, Calliope sings that the lovers' relationship will give beauty to each party, as

… the purest cullors which alone,
Sett by themselves imperfect bewty make,
Wher they are mingled and conjoynd in one,
One from an other lyfe and lustre take. …

Davies' “Epithalamion” is a graceful achievement and additional evidence of the range of his poetic competence.

III POET AS ENTERTAINER

In the second edition of A Poetical Rhapsody (1608), Francis Davison added three interesting minor works by Davies: “Yet Other Twelve Wonders of the World,” “A Lotterie,” and “A Contention betwixe a Wife, a Widdowe and a Maide.”⁴¹ These are “occasional” pieces, but of a special sort: they were devised as entertainments or amusements for guests at the houses of eminent political figures. As such, they are also indications of the access to important people that Davies' poetic talents gave the aspiring lawyer.

“Yet Other Twelve Wonders of the World” consists of twelve, six-line verse “characters,” brief portraits of the Courtier, Divine, Soldier, Lawyer, Physician, Merchant, Country Gentleman, Bachelor, Married Man, Wife, Widow, and Maid. Each of the “Wonders” speaks for himself and is a “wonder” because he so ideally represents his type. Since there is a mild flicker of social satire about these sketches, they might be regarded as inverted satirical epigrams. Instead of detailing the departures of a Rufus or a Ponticus from a standard of good taste or prudence, Davies has each speaker define that standard indirectly by listing the modes of conduct each avoids—a technique that recalls Chaucer's in his descriptions of such pilgrims as the Clerk and Parson in the General Prologue. The two following sketches illustrate Davies' approach:

III. THE SOULDIER.

My occupation is, the noble trade of Kings,
The tryall that decides the highest right of things:
Though Mars my master be, I doe not Venus loue,
Nor honor Bacchus oft, nor often sweare by Ioue;
Of speaking of my selfe, I all occasion shunne,
And rather loue to doe, then boast what I haue done.

IV. THE LAWYER

The Law my calling is, my robe, my tongue, my pen,
Wealth and opinion gaine, and make me Iudge of men.
The knowne dishonest cause, I neuer did defend,
Nor spun out sutes in length, but wisht and sought an end:
Nor counsell did bewray, nor of both parties take,
Nor euer tooke I fee for which I neuer spake.(42)

Some useful evidence about the occasional nature of these sketches is found in an early seventeenth-century manuscript at Downing College, Cambridge. The manuscript is headed “Verses giuen to the L. Treasurer vpon a dosen of Trenchers by Mr. Davis.”⁴³ Although the manuscript does not indicate which New Year's Day was so observed, Grosart proposes 1600 on the basis of the following letter in Davies' hand that was written to Sir Michael Hicks, secretary to Thomas Sackville, Lord Buckhurst, the Lord Treasurer:

Mr. Hicks. I have sent you heer inclosed that cobweb of my invention which I promised before Christmas: I pray you present it, commend it, and grace it, as well for your owne sake as mine: bycause by your nominacion I was first put to this taske, for which I acknowledge my self beholding to you in good earnest, though the imployment be light and trifling, because I am glad of any occasion of being made knowne to that noble gentl. whom I honore and admire exceedingly. If ought be to be added, or alter'd lett me heare from you. I shall willingly attend to doo it, the more speedily if it be before the terme. So in haste I comment my best service to you. Chancery Lane, 20 Jan. 1600. Yours to do you service very willingly, Jo. Davys.⁴⁴

Grosart suggests that the “cobweb” of Davies' “invention” is the “Twelve Wonders,” a view shared by other scholars.⁴⁵ Interestingly enough, such a set of trenchers, believed to have belonged to Sackville, has survived and may be seen in Room 54 among the Tudor and Early Stuart collection at the Victoria and Albert Museum, London.⁴⁶ The trenchers and their container are in ebony beechwood and are ornamented in gold. Each of the trenchers bears a representation of the Wonder and the appropriate verses. The following note accompanies the Museum exhibit:

Elizabethan dinner-parties, especially at the New Year, were often followed by a “banquet” of Marchpane and other sweetmeats, somewhat similar to dessert. The Trenchers were decorated “on their back sides” with designs and inscriptions intended to raise a laugh as each guest turned up his own “lot.” They were often made for amusement or suited to facetious subjects modelled in confectionery (e.g., the Signs of the Zodiac). The trade of trencher-makers preferred old-fashioned themes, especially Bible texts, Aesop's fables, the “language of flowers,” proverbs, and the like. Family “lots” were sometimes kept for generations.

A fashion for “characters” followed Casaubon's Theophrastus (1592) and other works. The verses in this beechwood set were written especially for trenchers at a New Year Party, probably in 1600, by Thomas Sackville, first Earl of Dorset, who had succeeded Burghley as Lord Treasurer the previous year.

In addition to such visual treatment, the “Twelve Wonders” were set to music by the lutenist John Maynard as The XII Wonders of the World. For the Violl de Gamba, the Lute, and the Voyce (1611).⁴⁷

Queen Elizabeth was a mobile monarch. During her long reign, she frequently moved her Court from Whitehall to Greenwich, Richmond, Hampton Court, or Windsor; and she visited other royal houses or private homes near London. The moves afforded her a change of scene and a useful visibility among her subjects, who flocked to see, to speak to, and even to touch their revered ruler as she traveled from one residence to another. During the summer months, more extended travel was possible; and the queen with her extensive retinue went on “progresses” about the countryside, visiting the universities, enjoying the well-meant but sometimes clumsy hospitality of towns and local gentry, as well as the elaborate and, indeed, lavish receptions afforded her by national political figures at their rural estates.⁴⁸

Such visits conferred honor on the hosts and, not infrequently, exacted heavy expenditures as they sought to entertain the Queen in suitable style. While Leicester's incredible extravagance during the Queen's three-week visit to Kennilworth in 1575 was not to be equaled, others who had enjoyed Elizabeth's favored attention—or wanted to enjoy it—were willing to spend considerable sums to make her visits memorable. According to J. E. Neale, Sir Nicholas Bacon, for an example, spent £577 for the Queen's four-days' visit in 1577; Burghley over £1000 for her ten-day visit in 1591; and Sir Thomas Egerton £2000 for her three-day visit in 1602.⁴⁹

In addition to feeding and housing the large Royal party accompanying the Queen, the hosts were expected to bestow gifts and to amuse her with carefully planned entertainments. Among the gifts Sir Thomas Egerton gave Elizabeth during a visit in 1595 were a fine fan with a handle set with diamonds, a jewel with diamond pendants valued at £400, a pair of virginals, and an expensive gown.⁵⁰ The entertainments, sometimes very elaborate, featured poems and orations of greeting and farewell, singing, instrumental music, dancing, masques, plays, pageants, and spectacles occasionally requiring the participation of hundreds.

From July 31 to August 3, 1602, the Queen visited Harefield House, Egerton's estate in Middlesex.⁵¹ The Lord Keeper seems to have turned to his witty protegé John Davies for assistance in entertaining his important guest. The poet's response, assuming the “I. D.” signed to the work in Davison's A Poetical Rhapsody⁵² refers to Davies, was “A Lotterie.”⁵³ Davies' “Lotterie” opens with “A Marriner” approaching the Queen, her maids of honor, and other ladies bearing a box of gifts and “lots,” or chances, “supposed to come from the Carrick,” an allusion to a Spanish plate ship which the English had captured in June, 1602,⁵⁴ much to the delight and profit of the Queen. Before offering the lots to the ladies, the Mariner sings the following song, predictably complimentary to Elizabeth:

          Cynthia Queene of Seas and Lands,
          That fortune euery where commands,
          Sent forth fortune to the Sea,
          To try her fortune euery way.
There did I fortune meet, which makes me now to sing,
There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.
          All the Nymphs of Thetis traine
          Did Cinthias fortunes entertaine:
          Many a Iewell, many a Iem,
          Was to her fortune brought by them.
Her fortune sped so well, as makes me now to sing,
There is no fishing to the Sea, nor seruice to the King.
          Fortune that it might be seene,
          That she did serue a royall Queene,
          A franke and royall hand did beare,
          And cast her fauors euery where.
Some toyes fell to my share, which makes me now to sing,
There is no fishing to the Sea nor seruice to the King.(55)

The Mariner explains that the gifts had come into his hands by Fortune and that he had vowed not to part with them “but by Fortune.” Finding himself by chance to have “lighted into the best company of the world, a company of the fairest Ladyes that euer I saw,” he decides to offer the lots to them. Twenty-nine of the thirty-four lots name gifts—“A Purse” (no. 2), “A Looking-Glasse” (no. 4), “A Snuftkin” (no. 22); the remaining five are blanks, perhaps affording some sense of chance to the drawing.⁵⁶ Each of the lots is accompanied by a pair of iambic pentameter couplets, miniature verse mottoes or poesies, which wittily—or nearly so—play on the gift named, usually offer a compliment to the drawer, and relate the lot to the theme of Fortune. The following are fair samples:

4. A LOOKING-GLASSE.

Blinde Fortune doth not see how faire you be,
But giues a glasse that you your self may see.

11. A PAIRE OF KNIUES.

Fortune doth giue this paire of Kniues to you,
To cut the thred of loue, if't be not true.

20. A CHAINE.

Because you scorne loue's Captiue to remaine,
Fortune hath sworne to leade you in a Chaine.

Hardly an important achievement, “A Lotterie” is a clever, if ephemeral, bit of piece-work done to order to provide a momentary amusement similar, perhaps, to that afforded today by the gnomic pronouncements found in Chinese fortune cookies. Elizabeth and her companions probably enjoyed the flattery and the wholesomely decorous wit treating the reportedly conventional interests of women.

“The Lotterie” seems, however, to have been only a part of the entertainment which Egerton provided the Queen during this visit. John Nichols printed from an early seventeenth-century manuscript found at the house of Sir Roger Newdigate, a later resident at Harefield House, an account headed “Entertainment of Q. Eliz. at Harefield, by the Countesse of Derby.”⁵⁷ Grosart subsequently reprinted this item from Nichols and attributed it and the “Lotterie” to Davies.⁵⁸ The Newdigate manuscript, which makes no mention of “A Lotterie,” includes two prose dialogues, two songs, and one prose speech. On the Queen's arrival, and while she was still on horseback, a Bailiff and a Dairymaid, engaging in a rustic discussion of some strangers who had just arrived, describe the Queen as “the best Huswife in all this company.” After the Queen had alighted from her horse and approached the house, where a carpet and chair had been placed for her, “Place,” “in a partie-colored roabe, like the brick house,” and “Time,” “with yellow haire, and in a green roabe, with a hower glasse, stopped, not runninge,” engage in a second dialogue praising the “Goddesse” who had so enriched the time and place by her visit. Both dialogues conclude with presentations of jewelry to Elizabeth.

Following the dialogues in the manuscript is “The humble Petition of a guiltless Lady, delivered in writing vpon Munday Morninge, when the robe of rainbowes was presented to the Q. by the La. Walsingham.” The “Petition” consists of six, six-line stanzas, opening with the following address to the sixty-nine-year-old monarch:

Beauties rose, and vertues booke,
Angells minde, and Angells looke,
          To all Saints and Angells deare,
Clearest Maiestie on earth,
Heauen did smile at your faire birth,
          And since, your daies have been most cleare.

The “Petition” takes note of the rainy weather; relates the colorful presentation robe to the rainbow; and, painfully, puns on “rain” and Elizabeth's “reign.”

At her departure, Elizabeth is confronted once again by Place, “attyred in black mourninge aparell,” who bids her farewell, and presents her with a jewelled anchor. Concluding the Entertainment is a song, “The Complaint of the Satyres Against the Nymphs,” which opens “Tell me, O Nymphes, why do you / Shune vs that your loues pursue?” Grosart suggests that this song was probably part of a Masque presented during the visit;⁵⁹ but it should be noted that the song appears on a separate leaf in the manuscript and is written in a different hand, thereby suggesting that it may not actually have been a part of the Harefield Entertainment.⁶⁰

Grosart concedes that the omission of “A Lotterie” from the “Entertainment” suggests that Davies was the author only of the former. But he contends that “A Lotterie” probably served as an amusement on one of the rainy days—noted in the “Petition”—and that “the speeches and other things of the ‘Entertainment’ took place without doors, and distinct from the Lottery.”⁶¹ The bases for his attribution of the entire Entertainment to Davies are stylistic ones: “there are manifold marks that the whole came from one pen, and that pen Davies's; for throughout there is likeness of style and thought to his avowed writings.”⁶² Grosart cites a number of parallel passages, which, however, did not prove to be sufficiently cogent to convince Sir E. K. Chambers.⁶³ Certainty about such matters of attribution is difficult, if not impossible, to reach. Grosart's parallel passages point to Davies as the likely author. While there is no reason to think Davies could not or did not write the whole entertainment, thinking he did so adds little to his stature as a writer.

On December 6, 1602, Elizabeth dined with Sir Robert Cecil at Cecil House, the Secretary of State's handsome new residence in the Strand. As a part of the housewarming festivities, Cecil had “great varietie of entertainment prepared for her and many rich jewells and presents.”⁶⁴ Concerning this event the lawyer John Manningham wrote in his diary:

On Munday last the Queene dyned at Sir Robert Secils [sic] newe house in the Stran. Shee was verry royally entertained, richely presented, and marvelous well contented, but at hir departure shee strayned hir foote. His hall was well furnished with choise weapons, which hir Majestie tooke speciall notice of. Sundry deuises; at hir entraunce, three women, a maid, a widdowe, and a wife, eache commending their owne states, but the Virgin preferred; an other, on attired in habit of a Turke desyrous to see hir Majestie, but as a straunger without hope of grace, in regard of the retired manner of hir Lord, complained; answere made, howe gracious hir Majestie in admitting to presence, and howe able to discourse in anie language; which the Turke admired, and, admitted, presents hir with a riche mantle, &c.⁶⁵

The device of the three women “commending their owne states” was one of Davies' contributions to the festivities known as “A Contention betwixt a Wife, a Widdowe and a Maide,” which John Chamberlain described as “a pretty dialogue.”⁶⁶ Consisting of sixty quatrains, the “Contention” opens on “Astreas holy day” as a Wife and Widdowe meet on their way to make an offering at the goddess' shrine. When a young maiden appears and places herself at the head of the procession, she offends the older women and precipitates the debate in which each lady extols her own condition as the supreme state of womanhood.

The modest wit of the poem consists primarily in artful statement, sometimes with an almost Baconian pithiness, and in line-capping development of figures of speech, as in the following examples:

WIFE.
The wife is as a Diamond richly set;
MAID.
The maide vnset doth yet more rich appeare.
WIDDOW.
The widdow a Iewel in the Cabinet,
Which though not worn is stil esteem'd as deare.
…
WIFE.
Wiues are faire houses kept and furnisht well.
WIDDOW.
Widdowes old castles voide, but ful of state;
MAID.
But maids are temples where the Gods do dwell,
To whom alone themselues they dedicate.

As the exchange continues, the implied compliment to the Virgin Queen becomes more explicit as the Maid gains a victory over her wordy combatants with a speech lauding the state of “spotless maids” and praising “The soueraigne spirit that will be thrall to none” and “The Princely Eagle that still flyes alone.” The debate concludes with the three ladies' approaching the goddess and with the Maid's presenting her with their offering, something no doubt more substantial than the verbal praise she had just heard.

With two or three exceptions, Davies' social Muse did not inspire work of abiding literary value. But the pieces we have considered do afford interesting glimpses into the social life of a great age and the integration of poetry into that life in a way scarcely known today. For Davies, such efforts were primarily social gestures, and, except for Hymnes of Astraea, not worthy of publication with Orchestra and Nosce Teipsum in the collection of his work published in 1622. “A Lotterie” and “A Contention” alone would hardly have won Davies the lasting attention and good offices of men like Egerton and Cecil. But his talent to amuse and to entertain, it is reasonable to think, helped keep fresh their awareness of his acute mind and loyal commitment; and his genial wit helped to retain the good will of such patrons.

Notes

1. See, for example, Phoebe Sheavyn, The Literary Profession in the Elizabethan Age (Manchester, 1909), and John F. Danby, Poets on Fortune's Hill (London, 1952).

2. Danby, pp. 15 ff.

3. Ibid., p. 36.

4. Ibid., p. 37.

5. The Complete Poems of Sir John Davies, edited by Alexander B. Grosart. Early English Poets. 2 vols. (London, 1876), I: 9-10.

6. Ibid., 11.

7. Unpublished B. Litt. thesis at the Bodleian Library of T. J. Childs, “An Edition of Nosce Teipsum by Sir John Davies,” 1939, p. 42.

8. Grosart reprints the Northumberland dedication in his edition of the Poems, I: 12-13.

9. Ibid., II: 222-23.

10. Robert Krueger, unpubl. diss. (Oxford, 1965), “A Critical Edition of the Poems of Sir John Davies,” pp. 690 and 654. For texts see Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 213-14 and 227-28.

11. Poems, ed. Grosart, I: 125-54.

12. John M. Robertson, Elizabethan Literature (New York, 1914), p. 151.

13. C. S. Lewis, English Literature in the Sixteenth Century (Oxford, 1954), p. 526.

14. Concerning poetry of such formal patterns see the brief article “Elizabethan Decoration: Patterns in Art and Passion,” Times Literary Supplement, July 3, 1937, pp. 485-96, and Margaret Church, “The First English Pattern Poems,” PMLA, LXI (1946): 630-50.

15. A. Kent Hieatt, Short Time's Endless Monument (New York, 1960).

16. M. C. Bradbrook, Shakespeare and Elizabethan Poetry (London, 1951), pp. 18 ff.

17. For my discussion of Astraea, I draw on Frances Yates, “Elizabeth as Astraea,” Journal of the Warburg and Courtauld Institutes X (1947): 27-82.

18. Ibid., p. 30.

19. Ibid., pp. 35-37.

20. Concerning Astraea's apparently paradoxical association with both spring and autumn, see Miss Yates, “Elizabeth as Astraea,” pp. 64-65.

21. Grosart prints one of these (Poems, II: 107).

22. Ibid., 112-13.

23. Quoted by Grosart, ed., The Works in Verse and Prose of Sir John Davies. Fuller Worthies Library, 3 vols. (Blackburn, 1869-76), I: 303-4.

24. Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 229-36.

25. Ibid., 230-31.

26. See David H. Wilson, King James VI and I (London, 1956), pp. 168-74, concerning the praise heaped upon the king.

27. Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 238-39.

28. Ibid., 223-25.

29. Falconer Madan, A Summary Catalogue of Western Manuscripts in the Bodleian Library (Oxford, 1895-1953), Entry no. 29419.

30. Childs, pp. 188 ff.

31. Robert Krueger, “Sir John Davies,” pp. 113-18.

32. Ibid., p. 113.

33. I have collated my transcription with Krueger's and adopted one or two of his emendations. I have silently expanded scribal abbreviations and followed modern typological conventions.

34. Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 38-39.

35. Childs, p. 188; Krueger, “Sir John Davies,” p. 113. For additional, anonymous verses written for this wedding, see my note, “Three Unpublished Elizabethan Wedding Poems,” Modern Language Review, LVIII (1963): 217-19.

36. For the brief historical review of the epithalamion, I am indebted to the excellent work of Virginia Tufte's unpubl. doctoral diss. (University of California at Los Angeles, 1964), “Literary Backgrounds and Motifs of the Epithalamium in English to 1650.” Unfortunately, Miss Tufte overlooked Davies' poem.

37. Sir Philip Sidney, The Poems of Sir Philip Sidney, ed. William A. Ringler (Oxford, 1962), pp. 91-94.

38. The Works of Edmund Spenser: A Variorum Edition, ed. Edwin Greenlaw et al., VII (Baltimore, 1947): 323.

39. Virginia Tufte, “Literary Background of the Epithalamium,” p. 172. For Baïf's poem see Euvres en Rime de Ian Antoine de Baïf, ed. Ch. Martz-Laveaux (Paris, 1883), II: 352-58.

40. For a discussion of the thematic conventions of the epithalamion see Thomas M. Greene, “Spenser and the Epithalamic Convention,” Comparative Literature, IX (1957): 215-28. The dramatic potential of Davies' poem has also been noted by J. R. Brink, “The Masque of the Nine Muses: Sir John Davies's Unpublished ‘Epithalamion’ and the ‘Belphoebe-Ruby’ Episode in The Faerie Queene,” Review of English Studies, XXIII (1972): 445-47, who offers some convincing contemporary evidence that it was presented as a pageant at the wedding of Elizabeth Vere and William Stanley.

41. Hyder E. Rollins, ed., A Poetical Rhapsody (Cambridge, U.S.A., 1931), I: 239-55.

42. Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 65-71.

43. Ibid., I: cxviii.

44. Ibid., cxviii-cxix.

45. Childs, p. 46; C. Howard, ed., p. vi; Krueger, diss., p. xxxiii.

46. I am indebted to Robert Krueger (diss., p. 682) for calling my attention to this exhibit.

47. Rollins, ed., A Poetical Rhapsody, II: 199.

48. J. E. Neale, Queen Elizabeth (London, 1934), pp. 205-19.

49. Ibid., p. 209.

50. Ibid., pp. 209-10.

51. Chamberlain, The Letters of John Chamberlain, ed. Norman E. McClure (Philadelphia, 1939), I: 160.

52. Rollins, ed., I: 246. See Rollins' excellent notes, II: 202-10.

53. Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 87-95. An account of the Lottery is given in John Ashton, A History of Lotteries (New York, 1893), pp. 24-27.

54. Grosart, ed. Poems, I: cxi-cxii.

55. A text of this song set to music is in Robert Jones, Ultimum Vale (1608).

56. In three manuscripts cited by Rollins (Poetical Rhapsody, II: 202-8), which preserve texts of the lots, the drawers' names are indicated, possibly confirming Robert Krueger's suggestion that the lots were not really drawn by chance and that Davies had devised them in most instances specifically for individual recipients (diss., p. 665).

57. John Nichols, The Progresses of Queen Elizabeth (London, 1823), III: 586-95. For a succinct account of the Harefield Entertainment, see E. K. Chambers, The Elizabethan Stage, IV (Oxford, 1923): 67-68.

58. Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 243-58.

59. Ibid., I: cxvi.

60. Nichols, III: 595, n. 2.

61. Grosart, ed. Poems, I: cxiii.

62. Idem.

63. Chambers, Elizabethan Stage, IV: 68.

64. Chamberlain, Letters, I: 176.

65. Diary of John Manningham, ed. John Bruce, Camden Society Publication 99 (London, 1898), pp. 99-100.

66. Chamberlain, Letters, I: 177. For the text see Poems, ed. Grosart, II: 72-86.