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Conclusion
Conclusion
So that since the ever praiseworthy poesy is full of virtue-breeding
delightfulness, and void of no gift that ought to be in the noble name of
learning; since the blames laid against it are either false or feeble; since
the cause why it is not esteemed in England is the fault of poet-apes, not
poets; since, lastly, our tongue is most fit to honor poesy, and to be honored
by poesy; I conjure you all that have had the evil luck to read this ink -
wasting toy of mine, even in the name of the Nine Muses, no more to scorn the
sacred mysteries of poesy; no more to laugh at the name of poets, as though
they were next inheritors to fools; no more to jest at the reverend title of
"a rimer"; but to believe, with Aristotle, that they were the ancient
treasurers of the Grecians` divinity; to believe, with Bembus, that they were
first bringers - in of all civility; to believe, with Scaliger, that no
philosopher`s precepts can sooner make you an honest man than the reading of
Virgil; to believe, with Clauserus, the translator of Cornutus, that it
pleased the Heavenly Deity by Hesiod and Homer, under the veil of fables, to
give us all knowledge, logic, rhetoric, philosophy natural and moral, and quid
non? to believe, with me, that there are many mysteries contained in poetry
which of purpose were written darkly, lest by profane wits it should be
abused; to believe, with Landino, that they are so beloved of the gods, that
whatsoever they write proceeds of a divine fury; lastly, to believe
themselves, when they tell you they will make you immortal by their verses.
Thus doing, your name shall flourish in the printers` shops. Thus doing,
you shall be of kin to many a poetical preface. Thus doing, you shall be most
fair, most rich, most wise, most all; you shall dwell upon superlatives. Thus
doing, though you be libertino patre natus,^55 you shall suddenly grow
Herculea proles,^56
[Footnote 55: "The son of a freedman."]
[Footnote 56: "Herculean offspring."]
Si quid mea carmina possunt.^57
[Footnote 57: "If my verses can do aught." - Virgil, "Aeneid," IX. 446.]
Thus doing, your soul shall be placed with Dante`s Beatrice or Virgil`s
Anchises.
But if - fie of such a but! - you be born so near the dull-making
cataract of Nilus, that you cannot hear the planet-like music of poetry; if
you have so earth-creeping a mind that it cannot lift itself up to look to
the sky of poetry, or rather, by a certain rustical disdain, will become such
a mome,^58 as to be a Momus of poetry; then, though I will not wish unto you
the ass` ears of Midas, nor to be driven by a poet`s verses, as Bubonax was,
to hang himself; nor to be rimed to death, as is said to be done in Ireland;
yet thus much curse I must send you in the behalf of all poets: - that while
you live in love, and never get favor for lacking skill of a sonnet; and when
you die, your memory die from the earth for want of an epitaph.
[Footnote 58: Blockhead.]
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