錫德尼 《詩(shī)辯》
菲利普·錫德尼（1554—1586）
菲利普·錫德尼（1554—1586）出身貴族，是英國(guó)文藝復(fù)興時(shí)期的著名學(xué)者、詩(shī)人、軍人和朝臣。在牛津大學(xué)完成學(xué)業(yè)后曾周游歐洲大陸，回國(guó)后在伊麗莎白女王的朝廷為女王效力。他參加了英國(guó)和荷蘭之間的戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)，并擔(dān)任佛蘭德（Flanders）的衛(wèi)戍司令，直至去世。他是一個(gè)英勇善戰(zhàn)的軍人。據(jù)說(shuō)在一次戰(zhàn)役中他負(fù)傷，失血過(guò)多急需飲水、救護(hù)。在此危急關(guān)頭，他卻婉拒了為他提供的飲水和救護(hù)，而是把這兩種能挽救他生命的急需品讓給了比他軍職低的戰(zhàn)友。這一壯舉使他成為英勇俠義之士的楷模?？上⒛暝缡?，只活了短短的32年。
錫德尼生活的時(shí)代是英國(guó)歷史上詩(shī)人輩出的時(shí)代。人們把1580年以后這一時(shí)期稱為“黃金時(shí)代”。由于從文藝復(fù)興發(fā)生較早的意大利引進(jìn)了彼特拉克的十四行詩(shī)，英詩(shī)有了很大的發(fā)展，后來(lái)形成英國(guó)的十四行詩(shī)（或稱莎士比亞十四行詩(shī)）。錫德尼一生寫(xiě)了一百多首十四行詩(shī)和其他詩(shī)體的詩(shī)篇，以及一部名為《愛(ài)星者和星星》（1580—1584）的詩(shī)集。他留給后人的是三部不朽之作：詩(shī)集《愛(ài)星者和星星》，一部長(zhǎng)篇傳奇故事《阿卡迪亞》（Arcadia，1593，一部傳奇式的著作，與作品同名的是古希臘一田園牧歌式的地區(qū)。后來(lái)文學(xué)家用Arcadia泛指任何有田園牧歌式淳樸生活的地方）和一篇文論《詩(shī)辯》。流芳百世的不僅是這些不朽之作，還有他崇高的人品。他在荷蘭那次戰(zhàn)役中英勇獻(xiàn)身，留下“仁俠的楷模，風(fēng)流的鏡子”的美譽(yù)。
他的《阿卡迪亞》用散文和詩(shī)體寫(xiě)成，開(kāi)創(chuàng)了英國(guó)的田園文學(xué)。在問(wèn)世后的二百年中，它一直是英國(guó)的暢銷(xiāo)書(shū)，對(duì)英國(guó)小說(shuō)的發(fā)展有重大影響。
《詩(shī)辯》寫(xiě)成于1583年，1595年出版。它是英語(yǔ)文庫(kù)中首部重要的文學(xué)批評(píng)論文。寫(xiě)《詩(shī)辯》的目的是要批駁清教徒牧師斯蒂溫·戈森（Stephen Gosson）在他所寫(xiě)的《造謠學(xué)?！罚?span >The School of Abuse）中對(duì)詩(shī)的抨擊。在《詩(shī)辯》中錫德尼批判了柏拉圖在《理想國(guó)》中對(duì)詩(shī)人和詩(shī)品的錯(cuò)誤論斷。他說(shuō)，正是這些錯(cuò)誤的論斷為清教徒提供了進(jìn)攻詩(shī)的武器。
錫德尼從古希臘、羅馬的文論家，諸如柏拉圖、亞里士多德、賀拉斯、卡斯底維特羅等人那里汲取營(yíng)養(yǎng)。要為詩(shī)辯護(hù)，他必須駁倒對(duì)詩(shī)的錯(cuò)誤論斷，例如詩(shī)浪費(fèi)時(shí)間，詩(shī)是“謊言之母”，詩(shī)教惡等。他斷言，在早期社會(huì)，詩(shī)是對(duì)民眾進(jìn)行教育的主要手段之一，對(duì)社會(huì)和文化施加積極的道德影響；而當(dāng)時(shí)的詩(shī)人也備受尊敬。他引用賀拉斯的話，強(qiáng)調(diào)詩(shī)人用寓言給讀者以教育和娛樂(lè)，創(chuàng)造一個(gè)高于現(xiàn)實(shí)世界的精神世界。
同柏拉圖的觀點(diǎn)相反，錫德尼認(rèn)為詩(shī)人應(yīng)該得到比哲學(xué)家和歷史學(xué)家更高的地位。因?yàn)樵?shī)能以其趣味性促進(jìn)人的道德，亦即詩(shī)有教化作用。他說(shuō)：“沒(méi)有任何哲學(xué)教條能比閱讀維吉爾的史詩(shī)更使人正直，”并說(shuō)詩(shī)人“最先帶來(lái)一切文明?！?/p>
內(nèi)容提要
錫德尼首先提出，他決心為詩(shī)辯護(hù)，因?yàn)樵?shī)遭到不公正的待遇，甚至已經(jīng)成為兒童的笑料。而在羅馬社會(huì)的早期，詩(shī)人被視作與神學(xué)家和預(yù)言家一樣，享有同樣受尊敬的地位。古希臘人把寫(xiě)詩(shī)的人稱作詩(shī)人。希臘文Poiein（詩(shī)）是創(chuàng)作之意。因此，寫(xiě)詩(shī)的詩(shī)人就是一個(gè)創(chuàng)造者。錫德尼引用希臘的神話故事說(shuō)安菲翁（Amphion）能用他的動(dòng)人的詩(shī)打動(dòng)石頭，讓石頭自動(dòng)地筑起底比斯城。詩(shī)人奧菲士（Orpheus）則能讓動(dòng)物聆聽(tīng)他的詩(shī)歌。詩(shī)人使語(yǔ)言成為科學(xué)的寶庫(kù)。即便是對(duì)詩(shī)和詩(shī)人執(zhí)有偏見(jiàn)的柏拉圖也正是用詩(shī)的語(yǔ)言去打動(dòng)雅典人。歷史學(xué)家也必須用詩(shī)的語(yǔ)言敘述歷史，并在歷史中讓歷史人物運(yùn)用詩(shī)的語(yǔ)言。在詩(shī)人的筆下，世界變得更美好。也就是說(shuō)，詩(shī)人是一個(gè)美好世界的創(chuàng)造者。他說(shuō)：“大自然的世界是銅的，只有詩(shī)人才給予我們一個(gè)金的世界?！彼J(rèn)為藝術(shù)高于生活。
《詩(shī)辯》全文的中心思想就是詩(shī)人是創(chuàng)造者。柏拉圖說(shuō)詩(shī)人只是模仿者，詩(shī)人模仿的東西離真理甚遠(yuǎn)，必然會(huì)貽誤青年，因此必須把詩(shī)人逐出他的“理想國(guó)”。錫德尼批駁了這一錯(cuò)誤論斷。在對(duì)詩(shī)進(jìn)行分類(lèi)后，他對(duì)詩(shī)的語(yǔ)言、文體、語(yǔ)法作了評(píng)論。
錫德尼指出，歷史上曾經(jīng)有過(guò)三種詩(shī)。一種詩(shī)是模仿上帝的美德，例如大衛(wèi)創(chuàng)作的《詩(shī)篇》，所羅門(mén)創(chuàng)作的《雅歌》、《傳道書(shū)》、《箴言》，摩西和底波拉創(chuàng)作的《頌歌》，以及《約伯記》等。第二種詩(shī)是用詩(shī)敘述各個(gè)學(xué)科，如歷史、哲學(xué)、倫理道德、天文地理等。他說(shuō)，這些用詩(shī)的語(yǔ)言來(lái)討論哲學(xué)、歷史、道德、天文的人是否可以稱作是詩(shī)人，則應(yīng)由語(yǔ)言學(xué)家去爭(zhēng)論。第三種詩(shī)的創(chuàng)作者才是真正的詩(shī)人，這一類(lèi)詩(shī)人的確是為了教育和怡情而進(jìn)行模仿，他們最有見(jiàn)識(shí)，善于用最優(yōu)美的語(yǔ)言讓人們了解那個(gè)感動(dòng)他們，并使他們向往的善行。
詩(shī)人也可以分為歌頌的、悲劇的、喜劇的、諷刺的、詼諧的、傷感的和田園的。
詩(shī)可以凈化人的靈魂。錫德尼認(rèn)為，人間的一切學(xué)問(wèn)的目的就是德行，而詩(shī)人最能啟發(fā)人的德行。詩(shī)人可以同時(shí)發(fā)揮歷史學(xué)家和哲學(xué)家的功能。哲學(xué)家是艱深難懂的，詩(shī)人則用通俗動(dòng)人的語(yǔ)言進(jìn)行教育，因此可以稱詩(shī)人為普及型的哲學(xué)家，《伊索寓言》就是最好的例證。
詩(shī)人優(yōu)于歷史學(xué)家，因?yàn)樵?shī)人不僅使人獲得知識(shí)，并且能提高人的品行。他同時(shí)也為柏拉圖辯解，說(shuō)柏拉圖當(dāng)時(shí)反對(duì)詩(shī)和詩(shī)人只是因?yàn)楫?dāng)時(shí)的詩(shī)人對(duì)神持有錯(cuò)誤的觀點(diǎn)，因此毒害了青年的心靈。他指出，柏拉圖在他的名著《伊安篇》（Ion）中給予了詩(shī)很高的評(píng)價(jià)。
Sir Philip Sidney (1554—1586)
An Apology for Poetry
When the right virtuous Edward Wotton and I were at the Emperor's Court together, we gave ourselves to learn horsemanship of John Pietro Pugliano, one that with great commendation had the place of an esquire in his stable. And he, according to the fertileness of the Italian wit, did not only afford us the demonstration of his practice, but sought to enrich our minds with the contemplations therein which he thought most precious. But with none I remember mine ears were at any time more loaden, than when (either angered with slow payment, or moved with our learner-like admiration) he exercised his speech in the praise of his faculty. He said soldiers were the noblest estate of mankind, and horsemen the noblest of soldiers. He said they were the masters of war and ornaments of peace; speedy goers and strong abiders; triumphers both in camps and courts. Nay, to so unbelieved a point he proceeded, as that no earthly thing bred such wonder to a prince as to be a good horseman. Skill of government was but a pedenteria
in comparison. Then would he add certain praises, by telling what a peerless beast a horse was, the only serviceable courtier without flattery, the beast of most beauty, faithfulness, courage, and such more, that, if I had not been a piece of a logician before I came to him, I think he would have persuaded me to have wished myself a horse. But thus much at least with his no few words he drove into me, that self-love is better than any gilding to make that seem gorgeous wherein ourselves are parties. Wherein, if Pugliano's strong affection and weak arguments will not satisfy you, I will give you a nearer example of myself, who (I know not by what mischance) in these my not old years and idlest times having slipped into the title of a poet, am provoked to say something unto you in the defense of that my unelected vocation, which if I handle with more good will than good reasons, bear with me, since the scholar is to be pardoned that followeth the steps of his master. And yet I must say that, as I have just cause to make a pitiful defense of poor Poetry, which from almost the highest estimation of learning is fallen to be the laughing-stock of children, so have I need to bring some more available proofs, since the former is by no man barred of his deserved credit, the silly latter hath had even the names of philosophers used to the defacing of it, with great danger of civil war among the Muses.
And first, truly, to all them that professing learning inveigh against poetry may justly be objected, that they go very near to ungratefulness, to seek to deface that which, in the noblest nations and languages that are known, hath been the first light-giver to ignorance, and first nurse, whose milk by little and little enabled them to feed afterwards of tougher knowledges. And will they now play the hedgehog that, being received into the den, drove out his host, or rather the vipers, that with their birth kill their parents? Let learned Greece in any of her manifold sciences be able to show me one book before Musaeus, Homer, and Hesiod, all three nothing else but poets. Nay, let any history be brought that can say any writers were there before them, if they were not men of the same skill, as Orpheus, Linus, and some other are named, who, having been the first of that country that made pens deliverers of their knowledge to their posterity, may justly challenge to be called their fathers in learning, for not only in time they had this priority (although in itself antiquity be venerable) but went before them, as causes to draw with their charming sweetness the wild untamed wits to an admiration of knowledge, so, as Amphion was said to move stones with his poetry to build Thebes, and Orpheus to be listened to by beasts—indeed stony and beastly people. So among the Romans were Livius Andronicus, and Ennius. So in the Italian language the first that made it aspire to be a treasure-house of science were the poets Dante, Boccaccio, and Petrarch. So in our English were Gower and Chaucer.
After whom, encouraged and delighted with their excellent foregoing, others have followed, to beautify our mother tongue, as well in the same kind as in other arts. This did so notably show itself, that the philosophers of Greece durst not a long time appear to the world but under the masks of poets. So Thales, Empedocles, and Parmenides sang their natural philosophy in verses; so did Pythagoras and Phocylides their moral counsels; so did Tyrtaeus in war matters, and Solon in matters of policy: or rather, they, being poets, did exercise their delightful vein in those points of highest knowledge, which before them lay hid to the world. For that wise Solon was directly a poet it is manifest, having written in verse the notable fable of the Atlantic Island, which was continued by Plato.
And truly, even Plato, whosoever well considereth shall find that in the body of his work, though the inside and strength were philosophy, the skin as it were and beauty depended most of poetry: for all standeth upon dialogues, wherein he feigneth many honest burgesses of Athens to speak of such matters, that, if they had been set on the rack, they would never have confessed them, besides his poetical describing the circumstances of their meetings, as the well ordering of a banquet, the delicacy of a walk, with interlacing mere tales, as Gyges' Ring, and others, which who knoweth not to be flowers of poetry did never walk into Apollo's garden.
And even historiographers (although their lips sound of things done, and verity be written in their foreheads) have been glad to borrow both fashion and perchance weight of poets. So Herodotus entitled his history by the name of the nine Muses; and both he and all the rest that followed him either stole or usurped of poetry their passionate describing of passions, the many particularities of battles, which no man could affirm, or, if that be denied me, long orations put in the mouths of great kings and captains, which it is certain they never pronounced. So that, truly, neither philosopher nor historiographer could at the first have entered into the gates of popular judgments, if they had not taken a great passport of poetry, which in all nations at this day, where learning flourisheth not, is plain to be seen, in all which they have some feeling of poetry. In Turkey, besides their law-giving divines, they have no other writers but poets. In our neighbor country Ireland, where truly learning goeth very bare, yet are their poets held in a devout reverence. Even among the most barbarous and simple Indians where no writing is, yet have they their poets, who make and sing songs, which they call areytos, both of their ancestors' deeds and praises of their gods—a sufficient probability that, if ever learning come among them, it must be by having their hard dull wits softened and sharpened with the sweet delights of poetry. For until they find a pleasure in the exercises of the mind, great promises of much knowledge will little persuade them that know not the fruits of knowledge. In Wales, the true remnant of the ancient Britons, as there are good authorities to show the long time they had poets, which they called bards, so through all the conquests of Romans, Saxons, Danes, and Normans, some of whom did seek to ruin all memory of learning from among them, yet do their poets, even to this day, last; so as it is not more notable in soon beginning than in long continuing. But since the authors of most of our sciences were the Romans, and before them the Greeks, let us a little stand upon their authorities, but even so far as to see what names they have given unto this now scorned skill.
Among the Romans a poet was called vates, which is as much as a diviner, foreseer, or prophet, as by his conjoined words vaticinium and vaticinari is manifest: so heavenly a title did that excellent people bestow upon this heart-ravishing knowledge. And so far were they carried into the admiration thereof, that they thought in the chanceable hitting upon any such verses great foretokens of their following fortunes were placed. Whereupon grew the word of sortes Virgilianae, when, by sudden opening Virgil's book, they lighted upon any verse of his making: whereof the histories of the emperors' lives are full, as of Albinus, the governor of our island, who in his childhood met with this verse, Arma amens capio nec sat rationis in armis; and in his age performed it: which, although it were a very vain and godless superstition, as also it was to think that spirits were commanded by such verses—whereupon this word charms, derived of carmina, cometh—so yet serveth it to show the great reverence those wits were held in. And altogether not without ground, since both the Oracles of Delphos and Sibylla's prophecies were wholly delivered in verses. For that same exquisite observing of number and measure in words, and that high flying liberty of conceit proper to the poet, did seem to have some divine force in it.
And may not I presume a little further, to show the reasonableness of this word vates, and say that the holy David's Psalms are a divine poem? If I do, I shall not do it without the testimony of great learned men, both ancient and modern. But even the name Psalms will speak for me, which, being interpreted, is nothing but "songs"; then that it is fully written in meter, as all learned Hebricians agree, although the rules be not yet fully found; lastly and principally, his handling his prophecy, which is merely poetical. For what else is the awaking his musical instruments, the often and free changing of persons, his notable prosopopeias, when he maketh you, as it were, see God coming in his majesty, his telling of the beasts' joyfulness, and hills' leaping, but a heavenly poesy, wherein almost he showeth himself a passionate lover of that unspeakable and everlasting beauty to be seen by the eyes of the mind, only cleared by faith? But truly now having named him, I fear me I seem to profane that holy name, applying it to poetry, which is among us thrown down to so ridiculous an estimation. But they that with quiet judgments will look a little deeper into it, shall find the end and working of it such, as, being rightly applied, deserveth not to be scourged out of the Church of God.
But now, let us see how the Greeks named it, and how they deemed of it. The Greeks called him "a poet" , which name hath, as the most excellent, gone through other languages. It cometh of this word poiein, which is "to make": wherein, I know not whether by luck or wisdom, we Englishmen have met with the Greeks in calling him a maker: which name, how high and incomparable a title it is, I had rather were known by marking the scope of other sciences than by my partial allegation.
There is no art delivered to mankind that hath not the works of nature for his principal object, without which they could not consist, and on which they so depend, as they become actors and players, as it were, of what nature will have set forth. So doth the astronomer look upon the stars, and, by that he seeth, setteth down what order nature hath taken therein. So do the geometrician and arithmetician in their diverse sorts of quantities. So doth the musician in times tell you which by nature agree, which not. The natural philosopher thereon hath his name, and the moral philosopher standeth upon the natural virtues, vices, and passions of man; and "follow nature" (saith he) "therein, and thou shalt not err." The lawyer saith what men have determined; the historian what men have done. The grammarian speaketh only of the rules of speech; and the rhetorician and logician, considering what in nature will soonest prove and persuade, thereon give artificial rules, which still are compassed within the circle of a question according to the proposed matter. The physician weigheth the nature of a man's body, and the nature of things helpful or hurtful unto it. And the metaphysic, though it be in the second and abstract notions, and therefore be counted supernatural, yet doth he indeed build upon the depth of nature. Only the poet, disdaining to be tied to any such subjection, lifted up with the vigor of his own invention, doth grow in effect another nature, in making things either better than nature bringeth forth, or, quite anew, forms such as never were in nature, as the Heroes, Demigods, Cyclopes, Chimeras, Furies, and such like: so as he goeth hand in hand with nature, not enclosed within the narrow warrant of her gifts, but freely ranging only within the zodiac of his own wit.
Nature never set forth the earth in so rich tapestry as divers poets have done—neither with pleasant rivers, fruitful trees, sweet-smelling flowers, nor whatsoever else may make the too much loved earth more lovely. Her world is brazen, the poets only deliver a golden. But let those things alone, and go to man—for whom as the other things are, so it seemeth in him her uttermost cunning is employed—and know whether she have brought forth so true a lover as Theagenes, so constant a friend as Pylades, so valiant a man as Orlando, so right a prince as Xenophon's Cyrus, so excellent a man every way as Virgil's Aeneas. Neither let this be jestingly conceived, because the works of the one be essential, the other in imitation or fiction; for any understanding knoweth the skill of the artificer standeth in that idea or foreconceit of the work, and not in the work itself. And that the poet hath that idea is manifest, by delivering them forth in such excellency as he hath imagined them. Which delivering forth also is not wholly imaginative, as we are wont to say by them that build castles in the air; but so far substantially it worketh, not only to make a Cyrus, which had been but a particular excellency, as nature might have done, but to bestow a Cyrus upon the world, to make many Cyruses, if they will learn aright why and how that maker made him.
Neither let it be deemed too saucy a comparison to balance the highest point of man's wit with the efficacy of nature; but rather give right honor to the heavenly Maker of that maker, who, having made man to His own likeness, set him beyond and over all the works of that second nature: which in nothing he showeth so much as in poetry, when with the force of a divine breath he bringeth things forth far surpassing her doings, with no small argument to the incredulous of that first accursed fall of Adam, since our erected wit maketh us know what perfection is, and yet our infected will keepeth us from reaching unto it. But these arguments will by few be understood, and by fewer granted. Thus much (I hope) will be given me, that the Greeks with some probability of reason gave him the name above all names of learning. Now let us go to a more ordinary opening of him, that the truth may be more palpable: and so I hope, though we get not so unmatched a praise as the etymology of his names will grant, yet his very description, which no man will deny, shall not justly be barred from a principal commendation.
Poesy therefore is an art of imitation, for so Aristotle termeth it in his word mimesis, that is to say, a representing, counterfeiting, or figuring forth—to speak metaphorically, a speaking picture; with this end, to teach and delight. Of this have been three several kinds. The chief, both in antiquity and excellency, were they that did imitate the inconceivable excellencies of God. Such were David in his Psalms; Solomon in his Song of Songs, in his Ecclesiastes, and Proverbs: Moses and Deborah in their Hymns; and the writer of Job, which, beside other, the learned Emanuel Tremellius and Franciscus Junius do entitle the poetical part of the Scripture. Against these none will speak that hath the Holy Ghost in due holy reverence.
In this kind, though in a full wrong divinity, were Orpheus, Amphion, Homer in his Hymns, and many other, both Greeks and Romans, and this poesy must be used by whosoever will follow St. James's counsel in singing psalms when they are merry, and I know is used with the fruit of comfort by some, when, in sorrowful pangs of their death-bringing sins, they find the consolation of the never-leaving goodness.
The second kind is of them that deal with matters, philosophical: either moral, as Tyrtaeus, Phocylides, and Cato; or natural, as Lucretius and Virgil's Georgics, or astronomical, as Manilius and Pontanus; or historical, as Lucan; which who mislike, the fault is in their judgments quite out of taste, and not in the sweet food of sweetly uttered knowledge. But because this second sort is wrapped within the fold of the proposed subject, and takes not the course of his own invention, whether they properly be poets or no let grammarians dispute; and go to the third, indeed right poets, of whom chiefly this question ariseth, betwixt whom and these second is such a kind of difference as betwixt the meaner sort of painters, who counterfeit only such faces as are set before them, and the more excellent, who, having no law but wit, bestow that in colors upon you which is fittest for the eye to see, as the constant though lamenting look of Lucretia, when she punished in herself another's fault.
Wherein he painteth not Lucretia whom he never saw, but painteth the outward beauty of such a virtue. For these third be they which most properly do imitate to teach and delight, and to imitate borrow nothing of what is, hath been, or shall be; but range, only reined with learned discretion, into the divine consideration of what may be, and should be. These be they that, as the first and most noble sort may justly be termed vates, so these are waited on in the excellentest languages and best understandings, with the foredescribed name of poets; for these indeed do merely make to imitate, and imitate both to delight and teach, and delight to move men to take that goodness in hand, which without delight they would fly as from a stranger, and teach, to make them know that goodness whereunto they are moved: which being the noblest scope to which ever any learning was directed, yet want there not idle tongues to bark at them. These be subdivided into sundry more special denominations. The most notable be the heroic, lyric, tragic, comic, satiric, iambic, elegiac, pastoral, and certain others, some of these being termed according to the matter they deal with, some by the sorts of verses they liked best to write in; for indeed the greatest part of poets have appareled their poetical inventions in that numbrous kind of writing which is called verse—indeed but appareled, verse being but an ornament and no cause to poetry, since there have been many most excellent poets that never versified, and now swarm many versifiers that need never answer to the name of poets. For Xenophon, who did imitate so excellently as to give us effigiem iusti imperii, "the portraiture of a just empire," under name of Cyrus (as Cicero saith of him), made therein an absolute heroical poem.
So did Heliodorus in his sugared invention of that picture of love in Theagenes and Chariclea; and yet both these writ in prose: which I speak to show that it is not rhyming and versing that maketh a poet—no more than a long gown maketh an advocate, who though he pleaded in armor should be an advocate and no soldier. But it is that feigning notable images of virtues, vices, or what else, with that delightful teaching, which must be the right describing note to know a poet by, although indeed the senate of poets hath chosen verse as their fittest raiment, meaning, as in matter they passed all in all, so in manner to go beyond them—not speaking (table talk fashion or like men in a dream) words as they chanceably fall from the mouth, but peising each syllable of each word by just proportion according to the dignity of the subject.
Now therefore it shall not be amiss first to weigh this latter sort of poetry by his works, and then by his parts, and, if in neither of these anatomies he be condemnable, I hope we shall obtain a more favorable sentence. This purifying of wit, this enriching of memory, enabling of judgment, and enlarging of conceit, which commonly we call learning, under what name soever it come forth, or to what immediate end soever it be directed, the final end is to lead and draw us to as high a perfection as our degenerate souls, made worse by their clayey lodgings, can be capable of. This, according to the inclination of the man, bred many formed impressions. For some that thought this felicity principally to be gotten by knowledge and no knowledge to be so high and heavenly as acquaintance with the stars, gave themselves to astronomy; others, persuading themselves to be demigods if they knew the causes of things, became natural and supernatural philosophers; some an admirable delight drew to music; and some the certainty of demonstration to the mathematics. But all, one and other, having this scope—to know, and by knowledge to lift up the mind from the dungeon of the body to the enjoying his own divine essence. But when by the balance of experience it was found that the astronomer looking to the stars might fall into a ditch, that the inquiring philosopher might be blind in himself, and the mathematician might draw forth a straight line with a crooked heart, then, lo, did proof, the overruler of opinions, make manifest that all these are but serving sciences, which, as they have each a private end in themselves, so yet are they all directed to the highest end of the mistress-knowledge, by the Greeks called architectonike, which stands (as I think) in the knowledge of a man's self, in the ethic and politic consideration, with the end of well doing and not of well knowing only—even as the saddler's next end is to make a good saddle, but his farther end to serve a nobler faculty, which is horsemanship; so the horseman's to soldiery, and the soldier not only to have the skill, but to perform the practice of a soldier. So that, the ending end of all earthly learning being virtuous action, those skills, that most serve to bring forth that, have a most just title to be princes over all the rest. Wherein we can show the poet's nobleness, by setting him before his other competitors, among whom as principal challengers step forth the moral philosophers, whom, me thinketh, I see coming towards me with a sullen gravity, as though they could not abide vice by daylight, rudely clothed for to witness outwardly their contempt of outward things, with books in their hands against glory, whereto they set their names, sophistically speaking against subtlety, and angry with any man in whom they see the foul fault of anger. These men casting largesse as they go of definitions, divisions, and distinctions, with a scornful interrogative do soberly ask whether it be possible to find any path so ready to lead a man to virtue as that which teacheth what virtue is—and teacheth it not only by delivering forth his very being, his causes, and effects, but also by making known his enemy, vice (which must be destroyed), and his cumbersome servant, passion (which must be mastered), by showing the generalities that containeth it, and the specialities that are derived from it; lastly, by plain setting down, how it extendeth itself out of the limits of a man's own little world to the government of families, and maintaining of public societies.
The historian scarcely giveth leisure to the moralist to say so much, but that he, laden with old mouse-eaten records, authorizing himself (for the most part) upon other histories, whose greatest authorities are built upon the notable foundation of hearsay; having much ado to accord differing writers and to pick truth out of partiality; better acquainted with a thousand years ago than with the present age, and yet better knowing how this world goeth than how his own wit runneth; curious for antiquities and inquisitive of novelties; a wonder to young folks and a tyrant in table talk, denieth, in a great chafe, that any man for teaching of virtue, and virtuous actions, is comparable to him. "I am 'lux vitae, temporum magistra, vita memoriae, nuntia vetustatis,'"&c.
The philosopher (saith he)
teacheth a disputative virtue, but I do an active. His virtue is excellent in the dangerless Academy of Plato, but mine showeth forth her honorable face in the battles of Marathon, Pharsalia, Poitiers, and Agincourt. He teacheth virtue by certain abstract considerations, but I only bid you follow the footing of them that have gone before you. Old-aged experience goeth beyond the fine-witted philosopher, but I give the experience of many ages. Lastly, if he make the song book, I put the learner's hand to the lute; and if he be the guide, I am the light.
Then would he allege you innumerable examples, conferring story by story, how much the wisest senators and princes have been directed by the credit of history, as Brutus, Alphonsus of Aragon, and who not, if need be? At length the long line of their disputation maketh a point in this, that the one giveth the precept, and the other the example.
Now, whom shall we find (since the question standeth for the highest form in the school of learning) to be moderator? Truly, as me seemeth, the poet; and if not a moderator, even the man that ought to carry the title from them both, and much more from all other serving sciences. Therefore compare we the poet with the historian, and with the moral philosopher; and, if he go beyond them both, no other human skill can match him. For as for the Divine, with all reverence it is ever to be excepted, not only for having his scope as far beyond any of these as eternity exceedeth a moment, but even for passing each of these in themselves.
And for the lawyer, though Jus be the daughter of justice, and justice the chief of virtues, yet because he seeketh to make men good rather formidine poenae than virtutis amore, or, to say righter, doth not endeavor to make men good, but that their evil hurt not others, having no care, so he be a good citizen, how bad a man he be: therefore, as our wickedness maketh him necessary, and necessity maketh him honorable, so is he not in the deepest truth to stand in rank with these who all endeavor to take naughtiness away, and plant goodness even in the secretest cabinet of our souls. And these four are all that any way deal in that consideration of men's manners, which being the supreme knowledge, they that best breed it deserve the best commendation.
The philosopher therefore and the historian are they which would win the goal, the one by precept, the other by example. But both, not having both, do both halt. For the philosopher, setting down with thorny argument the bare rule, is so hard of utterance, and so misty to be conceived, that one that hath no other guide but him shall wade in him till he be old before he shall find sufficient cause to be honest. For his knowledge standeth so upon the abstract and general, that happy is that man who may understand him, and more happy that can apply what he doth understand.
On the other side, the historian, wanting the precept, is so tied, not to what should be but to what is, to the particular truth of things and not to the general reason of things, that his example draweth no necessary consequence, and therefore a less fruitful doctrine.
Now doth the peerless poet perform both: for whatsoever the philosopher saith should be done, he giveth a perfect picture of it in someone by whom he presupposeth it was done; so as he coupleth the general notion with the particular example. A perfect picture I say, for he yieldeth to the powers of the mind an image of that whereof the philosopher bestoweth but a wordish description: which doth neither strike, pierce, nor possess the sight of the soul so much as that other doth.
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For conclusion, I say the philosopher teacheth, but he teacheth obscurely, so as the learned only can understand him; that is to say, he teacheth them that are already taught. But the poet is the food for the tenderest stomachs, the poet is indeed the right popular philosopher, whereof Aesop's tales give good proof: whose pretty allegories, stealing under the formal tales of beasts, make many, more beastly than beasts, begin to hear the sound of virtue from these dumb speakers.
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I conclude, therefore, that he excelleth history, not only in furnishing the mind with knowledge, but in setting it forward to that which deserveth to be called and accounted good: which setting forward, and moving to well doing, indeed setteth the laurel crown upon the poet as victorious, not only of the historian, but over the philosopher, howsoever in teaching it may be questionable.
For suppose it be granted (that which I suppose with great reason may be denied) that the philosopher, in respect of his methodical proceeding, doth teach more perfectly than the poet, yet do I think that no man is so much philophilosophos as to compare the philosopher, in moving, with the poet.
And that moving is of a higher degree than teaching, it may by this appear, that it is well-nigh the cause and the effect of teaching. For who will be taught, if he be not moved with desire to be taught, and what so much good doth that teaching bring forth (I speak still of moral doctrine) as that it moveth one to do that which it doth teach? For, as Aristotle saith, it is not gnosis but praxis must be the fruit. And how praxis cannot be, without being moved to practice, it is no hard matter to consider.
The philosopher showeth you the way, he informeth you of the particularities, as well of the tediousness of the way, as of the pleasant lodging you shall have when your journey is ended, as of the many by-turnings that may divert you from your way. But this is to no man but to him that will read him, and read him with attentive studious painfulness; which constant desire whosoever hath in him, hath already passed half the hardness of the way, and therefore is beholding to the philosopher but for the other half. Nay truly, learned men have learnedly thought that where once reason hath so much overmastered passion as that the mind hath a free desire to do well, the inward light each mind hath in itself is as good as a philosopher's book; seeing in nature we know it is well to do well, and what is well and what is evil, although not in the words of art which philosophers bestow upon us. For out of natural conceit the philosophers drew it; but to be moved to do that which we know, or to be moved with desire to know, Hoc opus, hic labor est.
Now therein of all sciences (I speak still of human, and according to the humane conceits) is our poet the monarch. For he doth not only show the way, but giveth so sweet a prospect into the way, as will entice any man to enter into it. Nay, he doth, as if your journey should lie through a fair vineyard, at the first give you a cluster of grapes, that, full of that taste, you may long to pass further. He beginneth not with obscure definitions, which must blur the margent with interpretations, and load the memory with doubtfulness; but he cometh to you with words set in delightful proportion, either accompanied with, or prepared for, the well-enchanting skill of music; and with a tale forsooth he cometh unto you, with a tale which holdeth children from play, and old men from the chimney corner. And, pretending no more, doth intend the winning of the mind from wickedness to virtue: even as the child is often brought to take most wholesome things by hiding them in such other as have a pleasant taste: which, if one should begin to tell them the nature of aloes or rhubarb they should receive, would sooner take their physic at their ears than at their mouth. So is it in men (most of which are childish in the best things, till they be cradled in their graves): glad they will be to hear the tales of Hercules, Achilles, Cyrus, and Aeneas; and, hearing them, must needs hear the right description of wisdom, valor, and justice; which, if they had been barely, that is to say philosophically, set out, they would swear they be brought to school again.
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Since then poetry is of all human learning the most ancient and of most fatherly antiquity, as from whence other learnings have taken their beginnings; since it is so universal that no learned nation doth despise it, nor no barbarous nation is without it; since both Roman and Greek gave divine names unto it, the one of prophesying, the other of making, and that indeed that name of making is fit for him, considering that whereas other arts retain themselves within their subject, and receive, as it were, their being from it, the poet only bringeth his own stuff, and doth not learn a conceit out of a matter, but maketh matter for a conceit; since neither his description nor his end containeth any evil, the thing described cannot be evil; since his effects be so good as to teach goodness and to delight the learners; since therein (namely in moral doctrine, the chief of all knowledges) he doth not only far pass the historian, but, for instructing, is well-nigh comparable to the philosopher, and, for moving, leaves him behind him; since the Holy Scripture (wherein there is no uncleanness) hath whole parts in it poetical, and that even our Savior Christ vouchsafed to use the flowers of it; since all his kinds are not only in their united forms but in their severed dissections fully commendable; I think (and think I think rightly) the laurel crown appointed for triumphing captains doth worthily (of all other learnings) honor the poet's triumph. But because we have ears as well as tongues, and that the lightest reasons that may be will seem to weigh greatly, if nothing be put in the counterbalance, let us hear, and, as well as we can, ponder, what objections may be made against this art, which may be worthy either of yielding or answering.
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Now, that verse far exceedeth prose in the knitting up of the memory, the reason is manifest—the words (besides their delight, which hath a great affinity to memory) being so set as one word cannot be lost but the whole work fails; which accuseth itself, calleth the remembrance back to itself, and so most strongly confirmeth it. Besides, one word so, as it were, begetting another, as, be it in rhyme or measured verse, by the former a man shall have a near guess to the follower: lastly, even they that have taught the art of memory have showed nothing so apt for it as a certain room divided into many places well and thoroughly known. Now, that hath the verse in effect perfectly, every word having his natural seat, which seat must needs make the words remembered. But what needeth more in a thing so known to all men? Who is it that ever was a scholar that doth not carry away some verses of Virgil, Horace, or Cato, which in his youth he learned, and even to his old age serve him for hourly lessons? But the fitness it hath for memory is notably proved by all delivery of arts: wherein for the most part, from grammar to logic, mathematic, physic, and the rest, the rules chiefly necessary to be borne away are compiled in verses. So that, verse being in itself sweet and orderly, and being best for memory, the only handle of knowledge, it must be in jest that any man can speak against it. Now then go we to the most important imputations laid to the poor poets. For aught I can yet learn, they are these. First, that there being many other more fruitful knowledges, a man might better spend his time in them than in this. Secondly, that it is the mother of lies. Thirdly, that it is the nurse of abuse, infecting us with many pestilent desires, with a siren's sweetness drawing the mind to the serpent's tale of sinful fancy—and herein, especially, comedies give the largest field to ear (as Chaucer saith)—how both in other nations and in ours, before poets did soften us, we were full of courage, given to martial exercises, the pillars of manlike liberty, and not lulled asleep in shady idleness with poets' pastimes. And lastly, and chiefly, they cry out with an open mouth, as if they outshot Robin Hood, that Plato banished them out of his commonwealth. Truly, this is much, if there be much truth in it. First, to the first, that a man might better spend his time is a reason indeed: but it doth (as they say) but petere principium: for if it be, as I affirm, that no learning is so good as that which teacheth and moveth to virtue, and that none can both teach and move thereto so much as poetry, then is the conclusion manifest that ink and paper cannot be to a more profitable purpose employed. And certainly, though a man should grant their first assumption, it should follow (methinks) very unwillingly, that good is not good because better is better. But I still and utterly deny that there is sprung out of earth a more fruitful knowledge. To the second therefore, that they should be the principal liars, I answer paradoxically, but truly, I think truly, that of all writers under the sun the poet is the least liar, and, though he would, as a poet can scarcely be a liar. The astronomer, with his cousin the geometrician, can hardly escape, when they take upon them to measure the height of the stars.
pedenteria：即英語(yǔ)的pedantry。
Orpheus：奧菲士，詩(shī)人和歌手。希臘神話說(shuō)他彈奏豎琴時(shí)，能讓猛獸俯首，頑石點(diǎn)頭。
Linus：古希臘音樂(lè)教師。
Livius Andronicus：利維亞斯·安德羅尼庫(kù)斯（約前280—約前204），古羅馬第一個(gè)詩(shī)人，首次將《奧德賽》譯成拉丁文的詩(shī)體形式。
Ennius：恩尼烏斯（約前239—約前169），古羅馬詩(shī)人和戲劇家，作品包括喜劇、悲劇及講述羅馬歷史的史詩(shī)《編年記》（Annals）。
Dante：但丁，13世紀(jì)至14世紀(jì)意大利詩(shī)人?！渡袂肥撬膫魇乐鳌?/p>
Boccaccio：薄伽丘（Giovanni Boccaccio, 1313—1375），意大利文藝復(fù)興時(shí)期著名作家，代表作為《十日談》。
Petrarch：彼特拉克（Francesco Petrarch, 1304—1374），意大利文藝復(fù)興時(shí)期的詩(shī)人、學(xué)者。他寫(xiě)的十四行詩(shī)被稱為Petrarchan Sonnet。
Gower：約翰·高爾（John Gower，1330？—1408），14世紀(jì)英國(guó)詩(shī)人。
Chaucer：?jiǎn)疼牛℅eoffrey Chaucer，1340？—1400），14世紀(jì)英國(guó)詩(shī)人，《坎特伯雷故事集》（Canterbury Tales）是他的代表作。
Thales：泰利斯（約前624—前546）古希臘哲學(xué)家、數(shù)學(xué)家、天文學(xué)家。
Empedocsles：恩培多克勒（前490—前430），古希臘哲學(xué)家、詩(shī)人。
Parmenides：巴門(mén)尼德，公元前6世紀(jì)至5世紀(jì)希臘哲學(xué)家。他的許多哲學(xué)理論被完整地保存了下來(lái)。
Pythagoras：畢達(dá)哥拉斯，公元前6世紀(jì)希臘哲學(xué)家、數(shù)學(xué)家。
Phocylides：甫希里迪斯，與畢達(dá)哥拉斯同時(shí)代，希臘詩(shī)人。
Tyrtaeus：提爾泰奧斯，公元前7世紀(jì)希臘詩(shī)人。
Solon：梭倫（約前638—約前559）,古雅典政治家、詩(shī)人。
Gyges是公元前7世紀(jì)Lydia國(guó)王，他殺死了國(guó)王Candaules后成為國(guó)王。公元前5世紀(jì)希臘著名歷史學(xué)家Herodotus有這樣的敘述：Gyges是國(guó)王Candaules手下一名得寵的戰(zhàn)將。他年少時(shí)是個(gè)窮苦的牧羊人。有一天，他在一峽谷偶然得到一只神魔戒指。他只要戴上這只戒指，就能成為隱身人。Candaules的皇后是絕色佳麗，國(guó)王為此深感驕傲。他為了炫耀他的妻子的美妙體態(tài)，堅(jiān)持要Gyges隱身偷看皇后誘人的裸體。Gyges從命，結(jié)果被皇后察覺(jué)。于是，皇后命令他在兩者之間進(jìn)行選擇：要么自殺，要么殺死她的丈夫，奪取王位，娶她為妻。Gyges選擇了后者。柏拉圖在《理想國(guó)》中說(shuō)，Gyges憑借神魔戒指贏得了王位和皇后，并說(shuō)人若對(duì)自己的行動(dòng)后果無(wú)所顧忌，就不可能有德行。
Normans：諾曼人，即公元10世紀(jì)定居諾曼底（Normandy，在法國(guó)西北部）的斯堪的納維亞人。此處指1066年征服英國(guó)的諾曼人。
Arma amens capio nec sat rationis in armis：即“Insane, I take arms, nor is there reason for arms.”引自《埃涅阿斯紀(jì)》（Aeneid），II。
Delphos：希臘地名。
Sibylla：羅馬女預(yù)言家。
Hebrician：Hebrides群島的居民。Hebrides群島在蘇格蘭西岸近海。
prosopopeia：即英語(yǔ)的personification。
Chimera：希臘神話中噴火的妖怪，上半身像獅，下半身像蛇，腰身像山羊。
Theagenes：愛(ài)情小說(shuō)Theagenes and Chariclea中的男主人公。Theagenes and Chariclea見(jiàn)注45。
Pylades：皮拉得斯，希臘神話中人物。
Orlando：奧蘭多，相傳為查理大帝（Charlemagne, 742—814）的外甥。他是許多浪漫故事的主人公。
Cyrus：居魯士。此處指波斯王子Cyrus the Younger（后繼承王位）。他是色諾芬（Xenophon）筆下理想國(guó)王的典型。
that second nature：本段提到的“the heavenly Maker”指創(chuàng)造萬(wàn)物的上帝?！皌hat maker”指創(chuàng)造者詩(shī)人。上帝創(chuàng)造的人為the first nature（第一自然），上帝創(chuàng)造的其他東西為the second nature（第二自然）。
a divine breath：上帝創(chuàng)造萬(wàn)物時(shí)用的神氣。
fall of Adam：基督教教義中人類(lèi)始祖亞當(dāng)?shù)膲櫬?。亞?dāng)違背上帝的命令，偷吃禁果，犯了罪，致使整個(gè)人類(lèi)成為罪人。這就是所謂的“原罪”（Original Sin）。
David：大衛(wèi)，為《詩(shī)篇》（Psalms）的作者。Psalms，《圣經(jīng)》中的《詩(shī)篇》。
Solomon in his Song of Songs ...and Proverbs：Solomon（所羅門(mén)）是大衛(wèi)的兒子和繼承者，古代以色列國(guó)王，以智慧著稱。Song of Songs（《雅歌》），亦作Song of Solomon；Ecclesiastes（《傳道書(shū)》）；Proverbs（《箴言》）?！妒ソ?jīng)》中的《雅歌》、《傳道書(shū)》和《箴言》相傳均為所羅門(mén)所作。
Moses and Deborah ... Job：Moses（摩西），《圣經(jīng)》中古代猶太人的首領(lǐng)。Deborah（底波拉），《圣經(jīng)》中猶太女先知，昵稱為Debby。Job，《約伯記》，《圣經(jīng)·舊約》中的一卷。約伯是上帝寵愛(ài)的人，他安貧樂(lè)道，又能忍耐，在任何情況下都對(duì)上帝忠心不移。
Emanuel Tremellius and Franciscus Junius ... the Scripture：Emanuel Tremellius為16世紀(jì)猶太學(xué)者，他把《圣經(jīng)》譯成了拉丁文。Scripture即《圣經(jīng)》（Holy Scripture）。
Holy Ghost：“圣靈”，亦作“上帝圣靈”，基督教基本信條三位一體中的第三位；其他二位是“圣父”、“圣子”?；浇陶J(rèn)為上帝集圣父、圣子、圣靈于一身，即三位一體。
St. James：即圣雅各，耶穌十二門(mén)徒之一。《新約》中有《雅各書(shū)》。
never-leaving goodness：此處意為上帝的善良關(guān)懷與人類(lèi)永存。
Cato：（小）加圖（前95—前46），公元前1世紀(jì)羅馬著名政治家。他反對(duì)凱撒和喀提林，在得知共和軍戰(zhàn)敗后，憤而自殺。
Lucretius：盧克萊修（約前94—前55），古羅馬詩(shī)人、哲學(xué)家，著有教諭詩(shī)《物性論》（On the Nature of Things）.
Georgics：《農(nóng)事詩(shī)集》，四卷共2,000行的長(zhǎng)詩(shī)，是維吉爾（Virgil）模仿希臘早期詩(shī)人赫西奧德（Hesiod）所寫(xiě)的《工作與時(shí)日》（Works and Days）的詩(shī)作。英國(guó)17世紀(jì)詩(shī)人德萊頓（John Dryden）稱其是“the best poem of the best poet”。
... as Manilius and Pontanus ... as Lucan：Manilius，公元1世紀(jì)羅馬詩(shī)人，長(zhǎng)詩(shī)Astronomica的作者。此詩(shī)共5卷，討論天文學(xué)。Pontanus，公元15世紀(jì)意大利詩(shī)人。Lucan盧坎（39—65），生于西班牙的古羅馬詩(shī)人，因反對(duì)羅馬皇帝尼祿（Nero），被迫自殺。他是當(dāng)時(shí)名揚(yáng)全國(guó)的詩(shī)人、學(xué)者。
Lucretia：盧克麗霞，古羅馬傳說(shuō)中的貞烈女子，她被強(qiáng)奸后自盡。
Theagenes and Chariclea：亦作Aethiopica（《埃塞俄比亞人》），公元前3世紀(jì)希臘作家Heliodorus所寫(xiě)的一部愛(ài)情小說(shuō)。也是古希臘保存下來(lái)的五部小說(shuō)中的一部。故事敘述女祭司Chariclea與Theagenes相戀，兩人來(lái)到了埃及。正當(dāng)她要被作為犧牲品獻(xiàn)給眾神時(shí)，她被認(rèn)出是國(guó)王的女兒。有情人終成眷屬。
table talk：席間漫談。
architectonike：即architectonics，哲學(xué)中與知識(shí)的系統(tǒng)化有關(guān)的學(xué)科，亦稱認(rèn)識(shí)體系論。
此句引自西塞羅（Cicero）所寫(xiě)的《論演說(shuō)家》（On the Orator）。英譯文是：“The light of truth, the life of memory, the teacher of life, the messenger of antiquity.”。
... in the battles of Marathon, Pharsalia, Poitiers, and Agincourt：Battle of Marathon發(fā)生在公元前490年。此役雅典人打敗了入侵的波斯人，波斯死亡6,400人，雅典僅陣亡192人。Battle of Pharsalia發(fā)生在公元前48年，龐培在此役中被凱撒打敗。Battle of Poitiers是1337至1453年英法之間的“百年戰(zhàn)爭(zhēng)”中的一次戰(zhàn)役，發(fā)生在1356年。在該戰(zhàn)役中英軍以少勝多打敗了法軍。Battle of Agincourt, 1415年發(fā)生在法國(guó)的Agincourt（Pas de Calais），法軍被英軍打敗。
此句英譯文為：through "fear of punishment" rather than through "love of virtue”。
philophilosophos：希臘文，意為哲學(xué)愛(ài)好者。
...not gnosis but praxis：英譯文是not "knowledge" but "action”。
Hoc opus, hic labor est.：英譯文是“This is the work, this the labor.”引自《埃涅阿斯紀(jì)》。
margent：即margin。在錫德尼時(shí)代，書(shū)頁(yè)邊的空白常用作記讀書(shū)筆記。
Hercules：赫丘利，羅馬神話中的大力神，希臘神話中稱赫拉克勒斯（Heracles），以完成12項(xiàng)英雄業(yè)績(jī)而聞名。據(jù)說(shuō)，他曾經(jīng)被要求在快樂(lè)與美德之間選擇，前者提供聲色犬馬之娛，后者提供終生勞作與卓著美名。他毅然選擇了后者。
Robin Hood：羅賓漢，12世紀(jì)英國(guó)民間傳說(shuō)中家喻戶曉的綠林好漢。他劫富濟(jì)貧，為民除暴，深受民眾的愛(ài)戴。
out of his commonwealth：即out of his Republic，引自柏拉圖的《理想國(guó)》（Republic）。
petere principium：即“beg the question”。
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