PAN'S PIPE.*
Mn. BRIGHT and Mr. Wilfred Mustard and the University of Chicago Press have done a real service to English literature by their reprint of Francis Sabie's Pan's Pipe. Francis Sable was the son of a Lichfield schoolmaster, and, when he came to write poetry, he wrote it in English hexameters. We cannot here go into the vexed question whether the English hexameter is or is not a form of metre to be encouraged and developed, but unquestionably, both from the literary and from the metrical points of view, the Elizabethan hexameters offer a fascinating field of study. To the ear and mind of the present writer the following account of English field. sports is full of quaint delight. Melibeus describes how his neighbour Alexis is altogether given up to the joys of a country life, joys chiefly of a sporting character :— " Wholly in ioy he liu'd, what sportes, the cuntrey did affoord, What playes, what pastimes, those he vsde, al labor abhorring, Time brought choise of sports, each quarter sundry pleasures : In spring time when fields are greene, when euery bramble Looketh fresh, when every bush with melodic soundeth, Of little birds rising, before bright Tytan appeared, Into the fielder did he gee, which then faire Flora bedecked, With redolent blossoms, 0 how grateful to the sences Were th' odorifferous smels which when Aurora to Phebus Gan to ope her gates, the fragrant flowers affoorded, O how to heare did he ioy the musicall harmony, which then Each little bird did make. He would go then with a spud staffs Vnto the leauie woods, the dens where Connies had hidden Their yong ones to seeke, to find yong birds he delighted: Greatly now did he ioy, the lightfooted hare to run after: With many yelping hounds, the swift-foot Deere by the forrest, To pursue with dogs, with an hauke to encounter a partridge: At this time the top, the tennis ball was a pastime : At this time no smal delight he toke in a foteball : When Ladie Ver had run her race, and Phebus ascending Vnto the highest, began to scortch with fiery glances Floras fruites, and Vera gay giftes, when Rie with a sickle Down to be cut began, and emptio barnes to be filled. Then to the Chrystall lake and siluer riuer of Alphus Vsde he to goe (Good Lord) how greatly to bath him he ioyed In his running stream, what pleasure companie meeting, Took he to sport on's reedy banks : somtimes with an angle, And false show of a bait glittering fish craftilie taken : Wold he twitch fro his wanes, with nets oft times he decen'd
them ; Now by the monntaines high, and forrests leauy to gather Strawberies and Damasens no smal delight did he count it. But vvhy recite I to thee these sports, thou these mery pastimes Knowst wel ynough, thou knowst what ioies the euntery yieldeth.
Winter & auturn brought not a few ripe apples in matter Peares and nuts to gather he vsde, all which he reserued, Winters want to releeue. When gloomie Winter appeared, When hoarie frosts did each thing nip, when Isacles hanged On ech house, with milk-white snows when th' earth was al hidden Forth vvith a fouler he was, to the vvelsprings & to the
fountains And to the running lakes, whose euer mooneable vvaters Frost neuer alter could, there for the long-billed hernshue, And little Snype did he set snares, vvith twigs craftily limed, Pitfalls now for birds did he make, the musical Owsle, The little Bobbin and the Thrush now greatlie bewayling, Winters want with doleful tunes did he strike with a stone-bow. Cardes and dice brought, now great sport, sitting by the fire, Bowles full of ale to quaffe off, ripe peares and mellowed apples To deuour, to cracke small nuts, now he counted a pleasure. But what need many words, least ouer tedious I should Vnto thee bee, many playes, and pastimes here I will omit: I will omit his gun, I will not speak of his hand-bow : Which with a twanging string, he so many times bath bonded But to be briefe, his life, his greatest toyle was a pleasure."
If our readers find the verse " crusty " and difficult at first, we suggest that they should read it aloud. If this process is persisted in for five or six lines, they will soon be found to have a very pretty lilt of their own. No doubt metrical experts will shake their heads over the high percentage of dactyls, and will summarily reject a good many of the spondees. Nevertheless there is undoubtedly a great deal of unrefined gold in the poem. For ourselves, we specially like the idea of encountering a partridge with a hawk.
• Pan's Pipe. By Francis Sable. 1595. Republished, with an Introduction, by James Wilson Bright and Wilfred Pirt Mustard. Chicago : the University of Chicago Press.
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