rish kinde, though it cannot be kept from barking, yet I conne them thanke that they refraine from byting.

Now, for the knitting of sentences, which they call the ioynts and members thereof, & for all the compasse of the speech, it is round without roughnesse, and learned without hardnesse, such in deede as may be perceyved of the least, understood of the most, but iudged onely of the learned. For what in most English writers useth to be loose, and as it were unright, in this Authour is well grounded, finely framed, and strongly trussed up togither. In regarde whereof, I scorne and spew out the rakehelly rout of our ragged rymers (for so themselves use to hunt the letter) which without learning boast, without iudgement iangle, without reason rage and fome, as if some instinct of poetical spirit had newly ravished them above the meannesse of common capacitie. And being, in the midst of all their braverie, suddenly, either for want of matter, or rime; or having forgotten their former conceit; they seem to be so pained and travailed in their remembrance, as it were a woman in childbirth, or as that same Pythia, when the traunce came upon her. "Os rabidum fera corda domans,

&c."

Nethlesse, let them a Gods name feed on their owne folly, so they seeke not to darken the beams of others glorie. As for Colin, under whose person the Authors selfe is shadowed, how farre he is from such vaunted titles and glorious shewes, both himselfe sheweth, where he sayth:

And,

"Of Muses Hobbin, I conne no skill."

"Enough is me to paint out my unrest, &c."

And also appeareth by the basenesse of the name, wherein it seemeth he chose rather to unfold great matter of argu

ment covertly then, professing it, not suffice thereto accordingly. Which moved him rather in Æglogues then otherwise to write, doubting perhaps his ability, which he little needed, or minding to furnish our tongue with this kinde, wherein it faulteth; or following the example of the best and most ancient poets, which devised this kinde of writing, being both so base for the matter, and homely for the maner, at the first to trie their habilities; and as yong birdes, that bee newly crept out of the nest, by little first prove their tender winges, before they make a greater flight. So flew Theocritus, as you may perceyve hee was alreadie full fledged. So flewe Virgil, as not yet well feeling his wings. So flew Mantuane, as not being ful somd. So Petrarque. So Boccace. So Marot, Sanazarius, and also diverse other excellent both Italian and French poets, whose footing this author everie where foloweth yet so as few, but they be well sented, can trace him out. So finally flieth this our new Poet as a birde whose principals be scarce growne out, but yet as one that in time shall be able to keepe wing with the best. Now, as touching the general drift and purpose of his Æglogues, I mind not to say much, himself laboring to conceal it. Only this appeareth, that his unstayed youth had long wandred in the common Labirinth of Love, in which time to mitigate and allay the heate of his passion, or else to warme (as he saith) the yong shepheards, his equals and companions, of his unfortunate folly, hee compiled these twelve Aeglogues, which, for that they be proportioned to the state of the twelve Moneths, he tearmeth it the Shepheards Calender, applying an olde name to a new work. Hereunto have I added a certaine Glosse, or scholion, for

* This has been omitted, as all that was important has been extracted, and used in the explanations and glossary at the bottom of each page.

the exposition of olde wordes and harder phrases; which maner of glossing and commenting, well I wote, will seeme strange and rare in our tongue: yet, for so much as I knewe many excellent and proper devises, both in wordes and matter, would passe in the speedie course of reading either as unknowne, or as not marked; and that in this kinde, as in other, we might be equal to the learned of other nations; I thought good to take the paines upon me, the rather for that by meanes of some familiar acquaintance I was made privie to his counsaile and secret meaning in them, as also in sundrie other works of his. Which albeit I know he nothing so much hateth, as to promulgate, yet thus much have I adventured upon his friendship, himselfe being for long time farre estraunged; hoping that this will the rather occasion him to put foorth diverse other excellent works of his, which sleep in silence; as his Dreams, his Legends, his Court of Cupid, and sundrie others, whose commendation to set out were verie vaine, the things though worthie of many, yet beeing knowne to fewe. These my present paines, if to any they be pleasurable or profitable, be you judge, mine owne maister Harvey, to whom I have both in respect of your worthines generally, and otherwise upon some particular and speciall considerations, vowed this my labour, and the maidenheade of this our common friends poetrie; himselfe having alreadie in the beginning dedicated it to the noble and worthie Gentleman, the right worshipfull maister Philip Sidney, a special favourer and maintainer of all kinde of learning. Whose cause, I pray you, sir, if envie shall stirre up any wrongfull accusation, defend with your mightie rhetoricke and other your rath gifts of learning, as you can, and shield with your good will, as you ought, against the malice and outrage of so many enemies, as I know will bee set on fire with the sparkes of his

kindled glorie. And thus recommending the Authour unto you, as unto his most speciall good friend, and my selfe unto you both, as one making singular account of two so very good & so choise friends, I bid you both most hartily fare well, and commit you and your commendable studies to the tuition of the Greatest.

Your owne assuredly to be commaunded,

E. K.*

POST SCR.

Now I trust, M. Harvey, that upon sight of your speciall friends and fellow poets doings, or else for envie of so many unworthy Quidams, which catch at the garland which to you alone is due, you wil be perswaded to plucke out of the hatefull darknes those so many excellent English poems of yours which lie hid, and bring them forth to eternal light. Trust me, you do both them great wrong, in depriving them of the desired sun; and also your selfe, in smothering your deserved praises; and all men generally, in withholding from them so divine pleasures, which they might conceyve of your gallant English verses, as they have alreadie done of your Latin poems, which, in my opinion, both for invention and elocution are verie delicate and super-excellent. And thus againe I take my leave of my good M. Harvey. From my lodging at London this tenth of Aprill, 1579.

* The name of the writer of this letter is unknown.

THE

GENERALL ARGUMENT

OF THE

WHOLE BOOKE.

LITTLE, I hope, needeth me at large to discourse the first originall of Aeglogues, having alreadie touched the same. But, for the worde Aeglogues I know is unknowen to most, and also mistaken of some of the best learned, (as they thinke,) I will say somewhat thereof, beeing not at all impertinent to my present purpose.

They were first of the Greekes, the inventours of them, called Aeglogai, as it were Aegon, or Aeginomon logi, that is, Goteheardes tales.* For although in Virgil and others the speakers be more Shepheards then Goatheards, yet Theocritus, in whom is more ground of authoritie then in Virgil, This specially from That deriving, as from the first heade and wellspring, the whole invention of these Aeglogues, maketh Goateheards the persons and authors of his tales. This being, who seeth not the grossnesse of such as by colour of learning would make us beleeve, that they are more rightly tearmed Eclogai, as they would say, extraordinarie discourses of unnecessarie matter: which definition

* "A mistaken etymology; and derived from Petrarch."- WARTON.