Notes

LATIN DRINKING SONG BY RICHARD BRAITHWAIT

I have been surprised, from the facility with which the author of "Drunken Barnaby" seems to pour out his Leonine verse, that no other productions of a similar character are known to have issued from his pen. I am not aware that the following drinking song, which may fairly be attributed to him, has ever appeared in print. It was evidently unknown to the worthy Haslewood, the crowning glory of whose literary career was the happy discovery of the author, Richard Braithwait. I transcribe it from the MS. volume from which James Boswell first gave to the world Shakspeare's verses "On the King." Southey has somewhere said that "the best serious piece of Latin in modern metre is Sir Francis Kinaston's Amores Troili et Cressidæ, a translation of the two first books of Chaucer's Poem¹; but it was reserved for famous Barnaby to employ the barbarous ornament of rhyme, so as to give thereby point and character to good Latinity."

Southey does not seem to have known those remarkable productions of the middle ages, which have been made accessible to us by the researches of Docen, of Grimm, of Schmeller, and of Mr. Wright; and, above all, of that exquisite gem, "De Phyllide et Flora," first printed by Docen², and since given by Mr. Wright in his collection of Poems attributed to Walter de Mapes. We have, however, a much better text from the hand of Jacob Grimm, in the Memoirs of the Academy of Berlin for 1843, p. 239. Of this poem it is perhaps not exaggeration to say, that it is an Idyll which would have done honour to the literature of any age or country; and if it is the production of Walter de Mapes, we have reason to be proud of it. It is a dispute between two maidens on the qualities of their lovers, the one being a soldier, the other a priest. It breathes of the spring, of nature, and of love:

 
"Erant ambæ virgines et ambæ reginæ
Phyllis coma libera Flora comto crine,
Non sunt formæ virginum sed formæ divinæ,
Et respondent facies luci matutinæ.
 
 
Nec stirpe, nec facie, nec ornatu viles,
Et annos et animos habent juveniles
Sed sunt parum inpares, et parum hostiles
Nam hinc placet clericus illi vero miles."
 

Love is called in to decide the dispute, and it causes no surprise to find, after due ventilation of the cause, the judgment of the court to be:

 
"Secundum scientiam et secundum morem,
Ad amorem clericum dicunt aptiorem."
 

Your readers who are not already acquainted with this interesting picture of ancient manners will, I think, be pleased with having it pointed out to their notice.

Should the following song not be already in print, I can also furnish from the same source a version of the ballad on "Robin Goodfellow" by the same hand, should it be acceptable.³

S. W. Singer.

"CANTIO

 
"O Pampine! quo venisti?
Cur me spectas fronte tristi?
Tolle caput, sis jucundus,
Tolle poculum exue fundus,
Et salutem jam bibamus,
Ad sodales quos amamus;
O Pampine! tibi primum
Haustum summus hunc ad imum.
 
 
Ecce de christallo factum
Purum vas, et hoc intactum,
Lympha nunc et succo plenum,
Nec includit hoc venenum;
Medicamen quod repellit
Omnes malos, nec fefellit,
O Pampine! invito Momo,
Tibi, tu es meus homo.
 
 
Hic est sacer fons et flumen,
Quod qui potant vocant numen,
Iras pellit, demit lites,
Et superbos facit mites;
Et post flumen hoc te amœnum
Annos reparare senum:
O Pampine! tibi habe,
Bibe si sis dignus tabe.
 
 
Hoc si tu gustabit nectar,
Si sis Paris fies Hector,
Iras demit inquietas,
In memento facit lætas;
Pro doloribus est solamen,
Pro pulicibus medicamen;
O Pampine! habe tibi,
Bibe tu cum ego bibi.
 
 
Hic est aqua vera fortis,
Vincula quæ solvet mortis,
Aut, si placet, aqua vitæ,
Roborans ab atra Dite:
Hinc sunt uti qui potestis
Omnia, cibus, potis, vestis;
O Pampine! tibi cito
Bibe, aut ab hinc abito.
 
 
Si frigistis, sine joco,
Solo hoc utare foco,
Si esuries hic sunt oves,
Pulli, vituli, et boves;
Quod si sitis ecce montem,
Quem si scandes habet fontem;
O Pampine! bibe rursus,
Bibe, tu nam venit cursus.
 
 
Si ægrotas sume potum,
Vis ut valeas tolle totum,
Cape potum hunc paratum,
Sanus eris,—est probatum;
Si in corpore aut in mente
Dolebant in quavis dente;
O Pampine! tibi statim
Sume potum hinc gradatim.
 
 
Bacche jam et jam Silene,
Pocula impleatis plene,
Ope jam adiutus vestra
Domum, feram e fenestra.
Ædes vertunt jam rotundæ,
Et succedant res secundæ:
O Pampine! tibi bibo,
Bibe, vale! ego abibo."
 

STRANGE APPEARANCES IN THE SKY

Strange appearances in the sky have not been without their ominous signification from the time that the greater and lesser lights were placed there at the creation, to the rainbow after the Deluge; and onward to the "star in the east" which announced our Saviour's birth, and the "light from heaven" which accompanied St. Paul's conversion. But the question is, whether there has since been any meaning in other like celestial illuminations? Some historical credit is claimed for the fiery sword, and armies fighting in the air, which preceded the siege of Jerusalem: for the cross of the Emperor Constantine: for the bow about the sun seen by Augustus Cæsar, when he took possession of the Roman empire: and for stars, or other heavenly lights, which have seemed to herald the births or deaths of illustrious personages. But are these stories to be believed? and, if they are, where is the line of credibility to be drawn? People cannot come together, and talk either on this subject, or on that of ghosts, but every one "hath a revelation, hath an interpretation." The poet, walking on the mountains, looked into the sky, and

 
"The appearance, instantaneously disclosed,
Was of a mighty city—boldly say
A wilderness of building, sinking far,
And self-withdrawn, into a wondrous depth,
Far sinking into splendour—without end?"
 

The two following extracts are from private letters now before me. The first account was written in 1825 by a physician, still alive, and who at the time read an account of what he had seen at a meeting of the Plinian Society. He says,

"I last evening read a paper upon an extraordinary appearance of letters, formed by the clouds, seen by a Mr. T. and myself. We had also with us two little boys, one nine, the other eleven years of age, who were able to make out each letter equally with ourselves. These children were at the time walking some distance behind us: but, upon their coming up, and being shown the letters, they read them without having heard any observation of ours respecting them. We saw them for about two minutes, when they gradually changed their form—each letter changing its perpendicular for a horizontal position, and at length the whole becoming converted into that form of cloud denominated cirro-stratus. I will endeavour to give you a faint idea of the appearance, by forming the letters as well as my memory will enable me. I make no comment upon the words themselves, as they are too extraordinary for observation of any kind. It was upon the 12th of last month: several showers had fallen in the course of the day, but the afternoon was fine. The time seven in the evening. The letters were formed upon a fine blue surface, having no other clouds near them, except very small ones, which tended much to heighten the effect of the whole.

(ETERNAL)

(MILLENNIUM)

"You will observe several deficiencies in the letters of the first word, viz. in the first 'E;' also in the 'N,' the second part being short; and a slight defect in the letter 'A.' With respect to the second word, the first six letters were very perfect: the others, with the exception of the 'M,' mere strokes; but in number sufficient to make up the word: and they had the appearance of having been perfect. I can assure you they were anything but obscure, and required very little stretch of the imagination. In the first word the letters were equidistant and beautifully uniform. The second word was not quite straight, being curved towards its termination. This appeared to me to arise from the change of position which the letters were undergoing, as before stated."

My other extract is from a letter written in 1851. The scene to which it refers is a sick chamber occupied by an octogenarian grandmother, who is in extremis. Her daughter, who writes the account, is present, together with a grandchild, who is nearly eleven years old. The nurse has left the room.

"We afterwards stood by poor grandmamma's fire, and then we sat at her window to see the moon rise. There were many clouds about it, and directly under it was the most marked figure of our Saviour on the cross. The head was concealed in light, but the arms were outstretched, and the body quite distinct. M. saw it too, and said, 'How appropriate, aunt, for the beginning of Lent!' She has never alluded to it since, nor, of course, have I; nor do I think any more of it, than that there it was: and there is something happy in the fancy, at all events, for it shone on her dying bed."

As you admit folk lore into "Notes and Queries," also well-attested anecdotes, although these may not absolutely conduce to the advancement of learning or art, perhaps you will receive this paper for the amusement of those who, like myself, feel an interest in anything which takes us a little out of the hardware facts of "the age we live in."

Alfred Gatty.

Ecclesfield.

"AFTER ME THE DELUGE."

If stolen wisdom could be returned to its rightful authors, great, indeed, would be the transfer of property. Prince Metternich is said to be the sayer of "After me the Deluge." And yet the Prince took the saying from the mouth of Madame Pompadour; and she took it—from whom? It may be reasonably doubted that her brain originated it; for it was not an order of brain that packs wisdom in few syllables.

"'After me the Deluge,' said Prince Metternich; a fine saying, but a false prophecy we trust."

I quote this from an admirable paper in The Times of to-day (April 10.) on the Crystal Palace, and quote the subscribed from an Essai sur la Marquise de Pompadour, prefixed to the Mémoires de Madame du Hausset, Femme de Chambre de Madame Pompadour, in Barrière's Bibliothèque des Mémoires.

"Madame de Pompadour, dans l'ivresse de la prospérité, répondit à toutes les menaces de l'avenir par ces trois [quatre] mots, "Après nous, le Déluge," qu'elle répétait souvent."

In this case, "Pompadour v. Metternich," surely a verdict must be returned for the lady, unless Voltaire puts in a future claim.

Douglas Jerrold.

West Lodge, Putney Common.

BISHOP THORNBOROUGH'S MONUMENT

[The writer of the following interesting communication does not appear to be aware that he is obliging us and a correspondent D. Y., who had asked (Vol. iii., p. 168.) for an explanation of the phrase Denarius Philosophorum, in the Bishop's Monument.]

Our local antiquaries have long been puzzled by an inscription in the Lady chapel of our cathedral. It stands on the monument of Bishop Thornborough, and was prepared by himself fourteen years before his decease in 1641, at the age of ninety-four. He was addicted to alchymy, and published a book in 1621, entitled Λιθοθεωρικος, sive, Nihil aliquid, omnia, &c. In the course of some recent studies in the Pythagorean philosophy, my attention was accidentally engaged by this inscription; and it at once struck me that it was thence that the explanation was to be derived. The epitaph is as follows: on one side,

"Denarius Philosophorum, Dum Spiro, Spero."

on the other,

"In Uno, 2^o. 3^o. 4^or 10. non Spirans Sperabo."

The latter letters are now effaced.

It is well known that the Pythagoreans found all the modes of space in the relations of numbers.

The monad, or unit, was not only the point whence all extension proceeds, but it further symbolised the First Principle, the origin of all. The duad represented the line, as being bounded by two points or monads. The triad stood for surface as length and width. The tetrad for the perfect figure, the cube, length, depth, and width. The decad, or denarius, indicated comprehensively all being, material and immaterial, in the utmost perfection: hence the term decas, or denarius, was used summarily for the whole science of numbers, as in the title of Meursius's tract De Denario Pythagorico, which was published four years after the date of the inscription, and when the philosophy was attracting much attention among European scholars. To be as concise as possible then, I presume that the old bishop intended that the tomb on which his effigy lies was his access to that perfection of existence which philosophers had designated by the decas, or denarius. During the present life he was hoping for it, "Dum Spiro, Spero."—On the other side: "In Him, who is the source, the beginning, the middle, and the end of all existence and perfection (in Uno, 2^o. 3^o. 4^or 10. non Spirans Sperabo), though I breathe no more, yet shall I hope."

Such is probably the meaning of his pious conceit, and I offer it as a solution of what has long served for a riddle to the visitors of our cathedral. Beyond this, your readers and myself may be equally indifferent to such cabalistical quaintness. But let us treat it with charity, as the devout consummation of an aged alchymist.

O. F.

College Green, Worcester, March, 1851.

Minor Notes

King Richard III. (Vol. iii., p. 221.).—On the 14th May, 1491 (6 Henry VII.), one Master William Burton, the schoolmaster of St. Leonard's Hospital, in the city of York, was accused before the magistrates of having said that "King Richard was an hypocrite, a crocheback, and buried in a dike like a dog." This circumstance is recorded in a contemporary document of unquestionable authenticity (vide extracts from York Records in the Fifteenth Century, p. 220.); and must remove all doubt as to the fact of Richard's bodily deformity. The conjecture of Dr. Wallis, quoted by G. F. G., can have no weight when opposed by clear evidence that the word "crouchback," as a term of reproach or contempt, was applied to King Richard within a few years after his death, by one to whom his person must have been familiarly known.

Δ.

Shakespeare a thorough Sailor.—Let me point attention to a genuine nautical expression, in the use of which Shakespeare shows himself a thorough sailor:

 
"The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail."—Hamlet, Act I. Sc. 3.
 

In a "fore and aft sail" of the present day, the "shoulder" is the foremost upper corner, and the last part of the canvass on which the wind fixes its influence when a vessel is "sailing by the wind," or even "off the wind." The "veriest lout" in the "after-guard" will appreciate the truthfulness and beauty of the metaphor.

A. L.

"A fellow-feeling," &c.—

 
"A fellow-feeling makes one wondrous kind."
 

This oft-quoted line is from Garrick's Epilogue on quitting the stage.

Γ.

Early Instances of the World "News."—Without the slightest intention of re-opening the discussion as to whether the word "newes" be of native growth or imported, I would beg leave to suggest as a means of completing its history, that should any of the readers of "Notes and Queries," whose researches may lead amongst the authorities of the fifteenth century, meet with instances of the word in familiar use between A.D. 1400 and A.D. 1500, they would notify the same.

The earliest date of its colloquial use as yet recorded in "Notes and Queries," is A.D. 1513: on the other hand, the word, so far as I am aware, is nowhere used by Chaucer, although his near approach to it in the following lines is very remarkable:

 
"There is right now come into the toune a gest,
A Greek espie, and telleth newe things,
For which I come to tell you newe tidings."
 

—Troilus and Creseide, b. ii. 1113.

After this, the transition to the word itself is so extremely easy, that it could not be far distant.

A. E. B.

Under the Rose.—It may interest the inquirers into the origin of this expression to know, that at Lullingston Castle in Kent, the residence of Sir Percival Dyke, there is in the hall an old picture, or painted carving (I forget which, as it is many years since I saw it), of a rose, some two feet in diameter, surrounded by an inscription, which, if I remember right, runs as follows, or nearly so:—

 
"Kentish true blue;
Take this as a token,
That what is said here
Under the rose is spoken."
 

It is now, or was when I saw it, in the hall of that ancient mansion, but I believe had been brought from an old house in the neighbourhood.

E. H. Y.

Queries

PORTRAITS OF SPENSER

The engraved portraits of Spenser differ so much from each other as to throw doubts on their resemblance to the poet.

I have now before me the following:

1. That prefixed to Bell's edition, 1777, engraved by Cook from "an original in Lord Chesterfield's collection."

2. Prefixed to an edition in one volume published by Spiers, 1840.

3. Prefixed to Moxon's edition, 1845.

We are not told from what paintings Nos. 2. and 3. are engraved, but they resemble each other, and are somewhat like that in Bell's edition; so I shall set these three down as forming one class of portraits. No. 2. has, however, a curious inscription, Edmund Spenser, obiit 1559, which would lead us to reject it altogether, and look on it as an imaginary likeness.

4. The portrait in Pickering's Aldine edition, 1839: this bears no resemblance, either in costume or features, to those already mentioned; but, if I mistake not, is like that in Todd's edition, published in 1805,—we may call these a second class.

An original portrait of Spenser is said to be in Lord Chesterfield's collection; another in Duplin Castle, the seat of Lord Kinnoul (of this there is a copy at Althorpe by Sir Henry Raeburn). Mr. Wright, in his Memorials of Cambridge, mentions a portrait at Pembroke College, "a copy by Wilson," but he does not say from what original: Mr. Craik, in Spenser and his Writings, speaks of two as being in this college.

The writer thinks he recollects a law-suit relative to a portrait of the poet, which had been sold to the late Sir Robert Peel, and which was stated to have come from Ireland. Perhaps some of your readers could give information respecting this picture.

It is clear, if the first three are all from the Chesterfield original, that this painting, and the one from which Mr. Pickering's is taken, cannot both be portraits of Spenser. The object of this Query is to ascertain, if possible, which engraving, or class of engravings, resembles the poet.

E. M. B.