MASTER JONSON'S ANSWER.* Jonson. HALL I my affections slack What care I how black she be? Shall my foolish heart be burst Shall a woman's vices make Or her faults to me made known. If she be not so to me, What care I how bad she be? 'Cause her fortunes seem too low Shall I therefore let her go? the Beggar. London, 1625. Gifford did not believe this to be Jonson's composition, but his reasons appear to me to be altogether insufficient when weighed against the fact of its being published with his name in his life-time. See note 9, p. cxxiv. vol. i. F. C. Think what with them he would do Great, or proud, or kind, or fair, MARTIALIS. EPIG. Lib. x. 47. ITAM quæ faciunt beatiorem, Fucundissime Martialis, hæc sunt; Res non parta labore, sed relicta : Non ingratus ager; focus perennis; Lis nunquam; toga rara; mens quieta; Vires ingenua; salubre corpus ; Prudens simplicitas; pares amici; Convictus facilis; sine arte mensa; Nox non ebria, sed soluta curis; Non tristis torus, et tamen pudicus; Somnus, qui faciat breves tenebras: Quod sis, esse velis, nihilque mali: Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes. I think how kind a heart he'd have Poor, or bad, or curst, or black, MARTIAL. EPIG. Lib. x. 47, TRANSLATED. HE things that make the happier life are these, ease, Not laboured for, but left thee by thy Sire; A soil not barren; a continual fire; Never at law; seldom in office gownd; A quiet mind, free powers, and body sound; Thy night not drunken, but from cares laid waste, In a conversation at Hawthornden (No. ii. post) Jonson recommended Drummond to study Martial, and added that he had translated his Epigram Vitam quæ faciunt beatiorem, &c. The above verses were discovered by Mr. Collier at Dulwich in Jonson's handwriting, and are no doubt the translation alluded to. Mr. Collier printed them in his Memoirs of Edward Alleyn, P. 54. F. C. TO MY DETRACTOR. Y verses were commended, thou dar'st say, Till thou hast lost thy noise, thy foam, thy stir, By barking against me. Thou look'st at least I now would write on thee! No, wretch; thy name Shall not work out unto it such a fame. Thou art not worth it. Who will care to know If such a tyke as thou e'er wert or no? A mongrel cur, thou should'st stink forth and die No man will tarry by thee, as he goes, To ask thy name if he have half his nose, But fly thee like the Pest. Walk not the street TO HIS MUCH AND WORTHILY-ESTEEMED FRIEND, HO takes thy volume to his virtuous hand W Who bluntly doth but look upon the same name? 6 Gifford printed a very imperfect copy of these verses, and pronounced them not to be Jonson's. See ante, p. 32. F. C. 7 These lines are prefixed to Cinthia's Revenge: or Menander's Extasie. Written by John Stephens, Gent., London, 1613. Mr. W. 8 Who reads may roave, and call the passage dark, FROM THE NEW ENGLISH CANAAN." B. I. SING the adventures of nine worthy wights, To be installed of Prince Arthur's table; That shortly should be found upon the earth, C. Hazlitt states his conviction that "although the name of Stephens appears upon the title, internal evidence establishes the authorship of Swallow." F. C. 8 To roave, or rove, a term of archery; means here to take a guess. 9 From The New English Canaan. Containing an Abstract of New England in three Books, written upon tenne Yeares Knowledge and Experiment of the Country. [By Thomas Morton.] Amsterdam, 1627, 4to. F. C. |