CHAP. XXV.

That the good Poet or maker ought to dissemble his arte, and in what cases the artificiall is more commended then the naturall, and contrariwise.

And now (most excellent Queene) having largely said of Poets & Poesie and about what matters they be employed: then of all the commended fourmes of Poemes, thirdly of metricall proportions, such as do appertaine to our vulgar arte: and last of all set forth the poeticall ornament consisting chiefly in the beautie and gallantness of his language and stile, and so haue apparelled him to our seeming, in all his gorgious habilliments, and pulling him first from the carte to the schoole, and from thence to the Court, and preferred him to your Maiesties seruice, in that place of great honour and magnificence to geue entertainment to Princes, Ladies of honour, Gentlewomen and Gentlemen, and by his many moodes of skill, to serue the many humors of men thither haunting and resorting, some by way of solace, some of serious aduise and in matters aswell profitable as pleasant and honest. Wee haue in our humble conceit sufficiently perfourmed our promise or rather dutie to your Maiestie in the description of this arte, so alwaies as we leaue him not vnfurnisht of one peece that best befeemes that place of any other, and may serue as a principall good lesson for al good makers to beare continually in mind, in the vsage of this science: which is that being now lately become a Courtier he shew not himself a craftsman, & merit to be disgraded, & with scorne sent back againe to the shop, or other place of his first facultie and calling, but that so wisely & discreetly he behaue himselfe as he may worthily returne the credit of his place, and profession of a very Courtier, which is in plaine termes, cunningly to be able to dissemble. But (if it please your Maiestie) may it not seeme inough for a Courtier to know how to weare a fether, and set his cappe a slaunt, his chaine en echarpe, a straight buskin al inglesse, a loose alo Turquesque, the cape alla Spaniola, the breech a la Francoise, and by twentie maner of new faishoned garments to disguise his body, and his face with as many countenances, whereof it seemes there be many that make a very arte, and studie who can shew himselfe most fine, I will not say most foolish and ridiculous? or perhaps rather that he could dissemble his conceits as well as his countenances, so as he neuer speake as he thinkes, or thinke as he speaks, and that in any matter of importance his words and his meaning very seldome meete: for so as I remember it was concluded by vs setting foorth the figure Allegoria, which therefore not impertinently we call the Courtier or figure of faire semblant, or is it not perchance more requisite our courtly Poet do dissemble not onely his countenances & conceits, but also all his ordinary actions of behauiour, or the most part of them, whereby the better to winne his purposes & good aduantages, as now & then to haue a iourney or sicknesse in his sleeue, thereby to shake of other importunities of greater consequence, as they vse their pilgrimages in Fraunce, the Diet in Spaine, the baines in Italy? and when a man is whole to faine himselfe sicke to shunne the businesse in Court, to entertaine time and ease at home, to salue offences without discredite, to win purposes by mediation in absence, which their presence would eyther impeach or not greatly preferre, to harken after the popular opinions and speech, to entend to their more priuate solaces, to practize more deepely both at leasure & libertie, & when any publique affaire or other attempt & counsaile of theirs hath not receaued good successe, to auoid therby the Princes present reproofe, to coole their chollers by absence, to winne remorse by lamentable reports, and reconciliation by friends intreatie. Finally by sequestering themselues for a time fro the Court, to be able the frecher & cleerer to discerne the factions and state of the Court and of al the world besides, no lesse then doth the looker on or beholder of a game better see into all points of auauntage, then the player himselfe? and in dissembling of diseases which I pray you? for I haue obserued it in the Court of Fraunce, not a burning feuer or a plurisie, or a palsie or the hydropick and swelling gowte, or any other like disease, for if they may be such as may be either easily discerned or quickly cured, they be ill to dissemble and doo halfe handsomely serue the turne.

But it must be either a dry dropsie, or a megrim or letarge, or a fistule in ano, or some such other secret disease, as the common conuersant can hardly discouer, and the Phisition either not speedily heale, or not honestly bewray? of which infirmities the scoffing Pasquil wrote, Vleus vesicae renum dolor in peno scirrus. Or as I haue seene in diuers places where many make themselues hart whole, when in deede they are full sicke, bearing it stoutly out to the hazard of their health, rather then they would be suspected of any lothsome infirmity, which might inhibit them from the Princes presence, or entertainment of the ladies. Or as some other do to beare a port of state & plentie when they haue neither penny nor possession, that they may not seeme to droope, and be reiected as vnworthy or insufficient for the greater seruices, or be pitied for their pouertie, which they hold for a marueilous disgrace as did the poore Squire of Castile, who had rather dine with a sheepes head at home & drinke a cruse of water to it, then to haue a good dinner giuen him by his friend who was nothing ignorant of his pouertie. Or as others do to make wise they be poore when they be riche, to shunne thereby the publicke charges and vocations, for men are not now a dayes (specially in states of Oligarchie as the most in our age) called somuch for their wisedome as for their wealth, also to auoyde enuie of neighbours or bountie in conuersation, for whosoeuer is reputed rich cannot without reproch, but be either a lender or a spender. Or as others do to seeme very busie when they haue nothing to doo, and yet will make themselues so occupied and ouerladen in the Princes affaires, as it is a great matter to haue a couple of wordes with them, when notwithstanding they lye sleeping on their beds all an after noone, or sit solemnly at cardes in their chambers, or enterteyning of the Dames, or laughing and gibing with their familiars foure houres by the clocke, whiles the poore suter desirous of his dispatch is aunswered by some Secretarie or page il fault attendre, Monsieur is dispatching the kings businesse into Languedock, Prouence Piemont, a common phrase with the Secretaries of France. Or as I haue obserued in many of the Princes Courts of Italie, to seeme idle when they be earnestly occupied & entend to nothing but mischieuous practizes, and do busily negotiate by coulor of otiation. Or as others of them that go ordinarily to Church and neuer pray to winne an opinion of holinesse: or pray still apace, but neuer do good deede, and geue a begger a penny and spend a pound on a harlot, to speake faire to a mans face, and foule behinde his backe, to set him at his trencher and yet sit on his skirts for so we vse to say by a fayned friend, then also to be rough and churlish in speach and apparance, but inwardly affectionate and fauouring, as I haue sene of the greatest podestates and grauest iudges and Presidentes of Parliament in Fraunce.

These & many such like disguisings do we find in mans behauiour, & specially in the Courtiers of forraine Countreyes, where in my youth I was brought vp, and very well obserued their maner of life and conuersation, for of mine owne Countrey I haue not made so great experience. Which parts, neuerthelesse, we allow not now in our English maker, because we haue geuen him the name of an honest man, and not of an hypocrite: and therefore leauing these manner of dissimulations to all base-minded men, & of vile nature or misterie, we doe allow our Courtly Poet to be a dissembler only in the subtilties of his arte: that is, when he is most artificiall, so to disguise and cloake it as it may not appeare, nor seeme to proceede from him by any studie or trade of rules, but to be his naturall: nor so euidently to be descried, as euery ladde that reades him shall say he is a good scholler, but will rather haue him to know his arte well, and little to vse it.

And yet peraduenture in all points it may not be so taken, but in such onely as may discouer his grossenes or his ignorance by some schollerly affectation: which thing is very irkesome to all men of good trayning, and specially to Courtiers. And yet for all that our maker may not be in all cases restrayned, but that he may both vse and also manifest his arte to his great praise, and need no more be ashamed thereof, than a shomaker to haue made a cleanly shoe or a Carpenter to haue buylt a faire house. Therefore to discusse and make this point somewhat cleerer, to weete, where arte ought to appeare, and where not, and when the naturall is more commendable than the artificiall in any humane action or workmanship, we wil examine it further by this distinction.

In some cases we say arte is an ayde and coadiutor to nature, and a furtherer of her actions to good effect, or peraduenture a meane to supply her wants, by renforcing the causes wherein shee is impotent and defectiue, as doth the arte of phisicke, by helping the naturall concoction, retention, distribution, expulsion, and other vertues, in a weake and vnhealthie bodie. Or as the good gardiner seasons his soyle by sundrie sorts of compost: as mucke or marle, clay or sande, and many times by bloud, or lees of oyle or wine, or stale, or perchaunce with more costly drugs: and waters his plants, and weedes his herbes and floures, and prunes his branches, and vnleaues his boughes to let in the sunne: and twentie other waies cherisheth them, and cureth their infirmities, and so makes that neuer, or very seldome any of them miscarry, but bring foorth their flours and fruites in season. And in both these cases it is no smal praise for the Phisition & Gardiner to be called good and cunning artificers.

In another respect arte is not only an aide and coadiutor to nature in all her actions, but an alterer of them, and in some sort a surmounter of her skill, so as by meanes of it her owne effects shall appeare more beautifull or straunge and miraculous, as in both cases before remembred. The Phisition by the cordials hee will geue his patient, shall be able not onely to restore the decayed spirites of man and render him health, but also to prolong the terme of his life many yeares ouer and aboue the stint of his first and naturall constitution. And the Gardiner by his arte will not onely make an herbe, or flowr, or fruite, come forth in his season without impediment, but also will embellish the same in vertue, shape, odour and taste, that nature of her selfe woulde neuer haue done: as to make the single gillifloure, or marigold, or daisie, double: and the white rose, redde, yellow, or carnation, a bitter mellon sweete; a sweete apple, soure; a plumme or cherrie without a stone; a peare without core or kernell, a goord or coucumber like to a horne, or any other figure he will: any of which things nature could not doe without mans help and arte. These actions also are most singular, when they be most artificiall.

In another respect, we say arte is neither an aider nor a surmounter, but onely a bare immitatour of natures works, following and counterfeyting her actions and effects, as the Marmesot doth many countenances and gestures of man, of which sorte are the artes of painting and keruing, whereof one represents the naturall by light colour and shadow in the superficiall or flat, the other in body massife expressing the full and emptie, euen, extant, rabbated, hollow, or whatsoeuer other figure and passion of quantitie. So also the Alchimist counterfeits gold, siluer, and all other mettals, the Lapidarie pearles and pretious stones by glasse and other substances falsified, and sophisticate by arte. These men also be praised for their craft, and their credit is nothing empayred, to say that their conclusions and effects are very artificiall. Finally in another respect arte is as it were an encountrer and contrary to nature, producing effects neither like to hers, nor by participation with her operations, nor by imitation of her paternes, but makes things and produceth effects altogether strange and diuerse, & of such forme & qualitie (nature alwaies supplying stuffe) as she neuer would nor could haue done of her selfe, as the carpenter that builds a house, the ioyner that makes a table or a bedstead, the tailor a garment, the Smith a locke or a key, and a number of like, in which case the workman gaineth reputation by his arte, and praise when it is best expressed & most apparant, & most studiously. Man also in all his actions that be not altogether naturall, but are gotten by study & discipline or exercise, as to daunce by measures, to sing by note, to play on the lute, and such like, it is a praise to be said an artificiall dauncer, singer, & player on instruments, because they be not exactly knowne or done, but by rules & precepts or teaching of schoolemasters. But in such actions as be so naturall & proper to man, as he may become excellent therein without any arte or imitation at all, (custome and exercise excepted, which are requisite to euery action not numbred among the vitall or animal) and wherein nature should seeme to do amisse, and man suffer reproch to be found destitute of them: in those to shew himselfe rather artificiall then naturall, were no lesse to be laughed at, then for one that can see well inough, to vse a paire of spectacles, or not to heare but by a trunke put to his eare, nor feele without a paire of ennealed glooues, which things in deed helpe an infirme sence, but annoy the perfit, and therefore shewing a disabilitie naturall mooue rather to scorne then commendation, and to pitie sooner then to prayse. But what else is language and vtterance, and discourse & persuasion, and argument in man, then the vertues of a well constitute body and minde, little lesse naturall then his very sensuall actions, sauing that the one is perfited by nature at once, the other not without exercise & iteration? Peraduenture also it wil be granted, that a man sees better and discernes more brimly his collours, and heares and feeles more exactly by vse and often hearing and feeling and seing, & though it be better to see with spectacles then not to see at all, yet is their praise not egall nor in any mans iudgement comparable: no more is that which a Poet makes by arte and precepts rather then by naturall instinct: and that which he doth by long meditation rather then by a suddaine inspiration, or with great pleasure and facillitie then hardly (and as they are woont to say) in spite of Nature or Minerua, then which nothing can be more irksome or ridiculous.

And yet I am not ignorant that there be artes and methods both to speake and to perswade and also to dispute, and by which the naturall is in some sorte relieued, as th'eye by his spectacle, I say relieued in his imperfection, but not made more perfit then the naturall, in which respect I call those artes of Grammer, Logicke, and Rhetorick not bare imitations, as the painter or keruers craft and worke in a forraine subiect viz. a liuely purtraite in his table of wood, but by long and studious obseruation rather a repetition or reminiscens naturall, reduced into perfection, and made prompt by use and exercise. And so whatsoeuer a man speakes or perswades he doth it not by imitation artificially, but by obseruation naturally (though one follow another) because it is both the same and the like that nature doth suggest: but if a popingay speake, she doth it by imitation of mans voyce artificially and not naturally being the like, but not the same that nature doth suggest to man. But now because our maker or Poet is to play many parts and not one alone, as first to deuise his plat or subiect, then to fashion his poeme, thirdly to vse his metricall proportions, and last of all to vtter with pleasure and delight, which restes in his maner of language and stile as hath bene said, whereof the many moodes and straunge phrases are called figures, it is not altogether with him as with the crafts man, nor altogither otherwise then with the crafts man, for in that he vseth his metricall proportions by appointed and harmonicall measures and distaunces, he is like the Carpenter or Ioyner, for borrowing their tymber and stuffe of nature, they appoint and order it by art otherwise then nature would doe, and worke effects in apparance contrary to hers. Also in that which the Poet speakes or reports of another mans tale or doings, as Homer of Priamus or Vlisses, he is as the painter or keruer that worke by imitation and representation in a forrein subiect, in that he speakes figuratiuely, or argues subtillie, or perswades copiously and vehemently, he doth as the cunning gardiner that vsing nature as a coadiutor, furders her conclusions & many times makes her effectes more absolute and straunge. But for that in our maker or Poet, which restes onely in deuise and issues from an excellent sharpe and quick inuention, holpen by a cleare and bright phantasie and imagination, he is not as the painter to counterfaite the naturall by the like effects and not the same, nor as the gardiner aiding nature to worke both the same and the like, nor as the Carpenter to worke effects vtterly vnlike, but euen as nature her selfe working by her owne peculiar vertue and proper instinct and not by example or meditation or exercise as all other artificers do, is then most admired when he is most naturall and least artificiall. And in the feates of his language and vtterance, because they hold as well of nature to be suggested and vttered as by arte to be polished and reformed. Therefore shall our Poet receaue prayse for both, but more by knowing of his arte then by vnseasonable vsing it, and be more commended for his naturall eloquence then for his artificiall, and more for his artificiall well desembled, then for the same ouermuch affected and grossely or vndiscretly bewrayed, as many makers and Oratours do.

The Conclusion.

And with this (my most gratious soueraigne Lady) I make an end, humbly beseeching your pardon, in that I haue presumed to hold your eares so long annoyed with a tedious trifle so as vnlesse it preecede more of your owne Princely and naturall mansuetude then of my merite. I feare greatly least you may thinck of me as the Philosopher Plato did of Anueris an inhabitant of the Citie Cirene, who being in troth a very actiue and artificiall man in driuing of a Princes Charriot or Coche (as your Maiestie might be) and knowing it himselfe well enough, comming one day into Platos schoole, and hauing heard him largely dispute in matters Philosophicall, I pray you (quoth he) geue me leaue also to say somewhat of myne arte, and in deede shewed so many trickes of his cunning how to lanche forth and stay, and chaunge pace, and turne and winde his Coche, this way and that way, vphill downe hill, and also in euen or rough ground, that he made the whole assemblie wonder at him. Quoth Plato being a graue personage, verely in myne opinion this man should be vtterly vnfit for any seruice of greater importance then to driue a Coche. It is great pitie that so prettie a fellow, had not occupied his braynes in studies of more consequence. Now I pray God it be not thought so of me in describing the toyes of this our vulgar art. But when I consider how euery thing hath his estimation by oportunitie, and that it was but the studie of my yonger yeares in which vanitie raigned. Also that I write to the pleasure of a Lady and a most gratious Queene, and neither to Priestes nor to Prophetes or Philosophers. Besides finding by experience, that many times idlenesse is lesse harmefull then vnprofitable occupation, dayly seeing how these great aspiring mynds and ambitious heads of the world seriously searching to deale in matters of state, be often times so busie and earnest that they were better be vnoccupied and peraduenture althgether idle, I presume so much vpon your Maiesties most milde and gracious iudgement howsoeuer you conceiue of myne abilitie to any better or greater seruice, that yet in this attempt ye wil allow of my loyall and good intent alwayes endeuouring to do your Maiestie the best and greatest of those seruices I can.

A Table of the Chapters in this booke, and euery thing in them conteyned.

What a Poet and Poesie is, and who may be said the most excellent Poet in our time. fol. 1

Whether there may be an arte of our English or vulgar Poesie. 3

How Poets were the first Priests, the first Prophets, the first Legis-lators and Polititiens in the world. 3

How Poets were the first Philosophers, the first Astronomeers, and Historiographers, and Orators, and Musicians in the world. 5

How euery wilde and sauadge people vse a kind of natural Poesie in versiete and rime, as our vulgar is. 7

Whence the riming Poesie came first to the Greekes and Latines, and how it had altered, and almost spilt their maner of Poesie. 7

How in the time of Charlemaynes raigne and many yeares after him, the Latine Poets wrote in rime. 8

In what reputation Poets and Poesie were in the old time with Princes, and otherwise generally, & how they be now become contemptible, and for what causes. 11

How Poesie shoulde not be employed vpon vaine conceits, nor specially those that bee vicious or infamous. 18

The subiect or matter of Poesie, what it is. 18

Of Poems and their sundrie sortes, and how thereby the auncient Poets receaued Surnames. 19

In what forms of Poesie the gods of the gentils were praysed and honored. 21

In what forme of Poesie vice, & the common abases of mans life were reprehended. 24

How the Poesie for reprehension of vice, was reformed by two manner of Poems, more euill than the first. 25

In what forme of Poesie the euill and outrageous behauiours of Princes were reprehended. 25

In what forme of Poesie the great Princes and dominators of the world were praised and honoured. 27

Of the places where in auncient time their enterludes and other Poemes drammaticke were represented vnto the people. 28

Of the shepheards or pastorall poesie called Egologue, and to what purpose it was first inuented and deuised. 30

Of historicall Poesie, by which the famous acts of princes and the vertuous and worthy liues of our forefathers were reported. 31

In what forms of poesie vertue in the inferior sort was commended. 34

The forme wherein honest & profitable arts and sciences were treated. 35

In what forme of poesie the amarous affections and entertainments were vttered. 36

The forme of poeticall reiocings. 36

The forme of poeticall lamentations. 37

The solemne reioysings at the birth and natiuitie of princes children. 40

The manner of reioysing at weddings and marriages, specially of great Ladies and Gentlewomen and Dames of honour. 40

The manner of poesie by which they vttered their bitter tauntes or priuy nippes, and witty scoffes and other merry conceits. 43

What manner of poeme they vsed for memorial of the dead. 45

An auncient forme of poesie by which men did vse to reproch their enimies. 46

Of the short poeme called with vs posie. 47

Who in any age have beene the most commended writers in our English poesie, and the Authors censure giuen vpon them. 48

The Table of the second booke.

Of proportion poeticall. fol. 53

Of proportion in Staff. 54

Of proportion in Measure. 55

How many sortes of measures we use in our vulgar. 58

Of the distinctions of mans voice and pauses allowed to our speech, & of the first pause called Ceszure. 61

Of proportion in concord called Rime. 63

Of accent, stirre and time, evidently perceyued in the distinction of mans voice, and in that which maketh the flowing of a Meetre. 64

Of your Cadences in which the meeter is made Symphonicall, & when they be most sweet and solemne. 65

How the good maker will not wrench his word to helpe his rime, either by falsifying his accent or his Ortographie. 67

Of concord in long and short measures, & by neare or farre distances, and which of them is most commendable. 68

Of proportion by situation. 69

Of proportion in figure. 75

How if all manner of suddaine innouations were not very scandalous, specially in the lawes of any language, the use of the Greeke and Latine feet might be brought into our vulgar poesie & with good grace inough. 85

A more particular declaration of the Metricall feete of the Greekes and Latines, and of your feete of two times. 91

Of the feet of three times, and what vse we may haue of them in our vulgar. 103

Of all the other of three times besides the Dactill. 106

Of your halfe foote in a verse & those verses which they called perfect and defective. 107

Of the breaking of your wordes of many sillables, & when & how it is to be vsed. 108

The Table of the third booke.

Of ornament poeticall and that it resteth in figures. 114

How our writing & speeches publique ought to be figuratiue, and if they be not doo greatly disgrace the cause and purpose of the speaker and writer. 115

How ornament poeticall is of two sortes according to the double nature and efficacy of figures. 119

Of language and what speech our maker ought to vse. 119

Of stile, and that it is of three kindes, loftie, meane, and low according to the nature of the subiect. 123

Of the loftie, meane, and low subiect. 127

Of figures and figuratiue speeches. 128

Sixe points set downe by our learned forefathers for a generall rule or regiment of all good vtterance, be it by mouth or by writing. 129

How the Greekes first and afterwardes the Latines inuented new names for euery figure, which this Author is also enforced to do in his vulgar arte. 130

A diuision of figures and how they serue in exornation of language. 131

Of Auricular figures apperteyning to single words and working by their diuers sounds and audible tunes, alteration to the eare onely and not to the minde. 134

Of Auricular figures perteyning to clawses of speech, and by them working no little alteration to the eare. 135

Of Auricular figures working by disorder. 140

Of Auricular figures working by surplusage. 141

Of Auricular figures working by exchange. 142

Of Auricular figures that serue to make the meetre tuneable and melodious, but not by defect nor surplusage, disorder nor exchange. 145

The names of your figures Auricular.

Eclipsis, or the figure of default. 136 Zeugma, or the single supply. 136 Prozeugma, or the ringleader. 137 Mezozeugma, or the middlemarcher. 137 Hypozeugma, or the rerewarder. 137 Sillepsis, or the double supply. 137 Hypozeuxis, or the substitute. 138 Aposiopesis, or the figure of silence, otherwise called the figure of interruption. 139 Prolepsis, or the propounder. 139 Hiperbaton, or the trespasser. 140 Parenthesis, or the insertour. 140 Histeron proteron, or the preposterous. 141 Enallage, or figure of exchange. 142 Hipallage, or the changeling. 143 Omoioteleton, or the figure of likeloose. 144 Patimion, or figure of like letter. 145 Asindeton, or figure of lose language. 145 Polisindeton, or the coople clause. 146 Irmus, or the long lose. 146 Epitheton, or the qualifier. 147 Endiades, or the figure of twinnes. 147

Of the figures which we call Sensable, because they alter and affect the minde by alteration of sense and first in single words. 148 Metaphora, or the figure of transport. 149 Catacresis, or the figure of abuse. 150 Metonymia, or the misnamer. 150 Antonomasia, or the surnamer. 151 Onomatopeia, or the newnamer. 151 Epitheton, or figure of attribution, otherwise called the qualifier. 152 Metalepsis, or the far-set. 152 Liptote, or the moderator. 153 Paradiastole, or the currifauel, otherwise called the soother. 154 Meiosis, or the disabler. 154 Tapinosis, or the abbaser. 154 Synecdoche, or the figure of quick conceit. 154 Of sensable figures appertaining to whole speeches, and by them affecting and altering the minde by force of sence and intendment. 155 Allegoria, or figure of faire semblance. 155 Enigma, or the riddle. 157 Parimia, or the prouerbe. 157 Ironia, or the drie mock. 157 Sarcasmus, or the bitter taunt. 158 Asteismus, the merry scoffe, or ciuill iest. 158 Micterismus, or the fleering frumpe. 158 Antiphrasis, or the broad floute. 159 Charientismus, or the priuie nippe. 159 Hyperbole, or the loud lier, otherwise called the ouerreacher. 159 Periphrasis, or the figure of ambage. 161 Synecdoche, or the figure of quick conceit. 162 Of figures sententious, otherwise called rhetoricall. 163 Anaphora, or the figure of report. 165 Antistrophe, or the counterturne. 165 Simploche, or figure of reiteration. 166 Anadiplosis, or the redouble. 167 Epanalepsis, or the slow returne, otherwise called the Eccho sound. 167 Epizeuxis, or the vnderlay, otherwise called the Cuckow spell. 167 Ploche, or the doubler, otherwise called the swift repeate. 168 Paranomasia, or the nicknamer. 168 Traductio, or the tranlater. 170 Antipophora, or the figure of responce. 170 Sineciosis, or the crossecoople. 172 Atanaclasis, or the rebound. 173 Clymax, or the marching figure. 173 Antimetauole, or the counterchainge. 174 Insultatio, or the disdainfull. 175 Antitheton, or the quareller, otherwise called the ouerthwart or rencounter. 175 Erotema, or the questioner. 176 Echphonisis, or the outcrie. 177 Brachiologia, or the cutted comma. 178 Parison, or the figure of euen. 178 Sinonimya, or the figure of store. 179 Metanoia, or the penitent, otherwise called the figure of repentance. 179 Antenagoge, or the recompencer. 180 Epiphonema, or the close. 181 Auxesis, or the auancer. 182 Meiosis, or the disabler. 183 Dialisis, or the dismembrer. 185 Merismus, or the distributor. 185 Epimone, or the loueburden. 188 Paradoxon, or the wonderer. 189 Aporia, or the doubtfull. 189 Epitropi, or the figure of reference, otherwise called the figure of submission. 189 Parrisia, or the licentious. 190 Anachmosis, or the importuner. 190 Paramologia, or figure of admittance. 190 Etiologia, or the tell-cause, otherwise called the reason rendrer. 191 Dicheologia, or the figure of excuse. 192 Noema, or the figure of close conceit. 193 Orismus, or the definer by difference. 193 Procatalepsis, or the presumptuous. 194 Paralepsis, or the passenger. 194 Commoratio, or figure of aboade. 194 Metastasis, or figure of remoue, otherwise called the flitter. 194 Parecuasis, or the straggler, otherwise called the figure of digression. 195 Expeditio, or the dispatcher. 195 Diologismus, or the right reasoner. 196 Gnome, or the director, otherwise called the sagesayer. 197 Sinathrismus, or the heaping figure. 197 Apostrophe, or the turne tale. 198 Hipotiposis, or the counterfait, otherwise called the figure of representation. 199 Prosopographia, or the counterfet countenance. 199 Prosopopeia, or the false impersonation. 200 Chronographia, or the counterfait of time. 200 Topographia, or counterteit of place. 200 Pragmatographia, or counterfait of action. 203 Omoiosis, or the figure of resemblance. 203 Icon, or resemblance by portrait, and ymagerie. 204 Parabola, or resemblance misticall. 205 Paradigma, or resemblance by example. 205 Exargasia, or the gorgious, otherwise called the bewtifull. 206 Of the vices and deformitie in speech principally noted by ancient Poets. 208 How some vices in speeches are alwaies intollerable, some others now and then borne withal by licence of approued authors. 209 Barbarismus, or barbarous speech. 209 Solecismus, or false speech. 210 Cacozelia, or fonde affectation. 210 Soraismus, or the vice called the mingle-mangle. 211 Cacosintheton, or the misplacer. 212 Cacemphaton, or foule speech. 212 Tautologia, or selfe saying. 213 Acyron, or the vncouth. 214 Pleonasmus, or fault of full speech. 215 Macrologia, or long language. 215 Periergia, or ouerlabor, otherwise called the curious. 216 Tapinosis, or the abbaser. 216 Bomphiologia, or pompous speech. 217 Amphibologia, or the ambiguous. 217 What it is that generally makes our speech vertuous or vicious, & of that which the Latines call decorum. 218 Of decencie in behauiour and action, which also belongs to the consideration of a Poet or maker. 231 How the good poet or maker ought to dissemble his arte, and in what cases the artificiall is more commended then the naturall and contrariwise. 250 The conclusion. 257

FINIS.