Notes

Introduction 1. Thomas Bodley, Letters of Sir Thomas Bodley to Thomas James, ed. G. W. Wheeler (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1926), 35. In 1607, Bodley expresses skepticism about taking more of “those pamphlets left of D. Reinoldes bookes” because the library cannot take “euery riffe raffe” (171). 2. Bodley, 219. 3. Bodley, 222. 4. Heidi Brayman Hackel, “‘Rowme’ of its Own: Printed Drama in Early Libraries,” A New History of Early English Drama, eds. John D. Cox and David Scott Kastan (New York: Columbia, 1997), 113–30. 5. Peter W. M. Blayney, The First Folio of Shakespeare (Washington, DC: Folger Library Publications, 1991), 1. 6. Early in the sixteenth century, William and John Rastell published some individual plays in folio, apparently attempting to establish drama in the 1530 as an early print genre. Their folio plays included Henry Medwall’s Nature (c. 1525), John Heywood’s Johan Johan (1533), and John Skelton’s Magnyfycence (1533). According to Julie Stone Peters, these plays may have been designed for “ease of production” (The Theatre of the Book [Oxford, 2000], 26–7), and the folio format, allowing more space for illustration and larger margins for annotation, may have contributed to his goal. 7. Jeffery Todd Knight, Bound to Read (Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 2013), 27. 8. Notably, Bodley is worried here about what new books to acquire, because “Of Protestant writers in f˚. [folio] I doe not thinke but in a maner, we haue all that can be gotten,” which also indicates a privileging of the folio format, at least in acquisitions (62–3). 9. For example, in one of his letters to Thomas James, written while he was acquiring and arranging books for the library, he gives the following instruction: “Offucius de Astrorum facult. is put among bookes in 4to. it being in f˚” (26). 10. Richard Helgerson, Forms of Nationhood: The Elizabethan Writing of England (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1994), 175, 171. 180 M Notes

11. Kevin J. Donovan, “Jonson’s Texts in the First Folio,” Ben Jonson’s 1616 Folio, eds. Jennifer Brady and W. H. Herendeen (Newark, DE: U of Delaware P, 1991), 23–4. 12. Paul Collins, The Book of William (New York: Bloomsbury, 2009), 25–6. 13. See Allardyce Nicoll, Chapman’s Homer (Princeton: Princeton UP), 1956, 2/e 1967, xiv–xix. Publication dates for editions of Chapman’s Homer remain conjectural. Richard Field printed the folio Illiad around 1611; Nathaniel Butter published Odyssey around 1614, both collections appear- ing under the title page The Whole Works of Homer sometime after that, with the ESTC estimating 1616. Conceivably the Illiad and Odyssey, despite about three years separating their publications, were designed to be bound toghether, so the usual characterization that Whole Works was created from unsold sheets of the 1611 Iliad may be misleading. Some new prefatory matter to Iliad needed to be created for Whole Works because of the death of Prince Henry, to whom Chapman had dedicated the Iliad. For this see John Buchtel, “Book Dedications and the Death of a Patron: The Memorial Engraving in Chapman’s Homer,” Book History 7 (2004), 1–29. 14. For the romance audience as a “middlebrow” readership, see Steve Mentz, Romance For Sale, esp. pp. 17–45. 15. Publisher Simon Miller appears to be the first to distinguish between “large folio” and “small folio” in catalogues appended to Thomas Tonkis’s play Lingua, John Gumbleden’s Christ Tempted, and Edmund Calamy’s Evidence For Heaven (1657). 16. G. Thomas Tanselle, “The Concept of Format,” Studies in Bibliography 53 (2000), 113. 17. Ibid., 108. 18. For Moxon’s folio illustration, see Mechanick Exercises on the Whole Art of Printing, eds. Herbert Davis and Harry Carter (Mineola: Dover, 1978), 224. 19. Joshua Sylvester, Du Bartas His Deuine Weeles and Workes. London: Humfrey Lounes, 1611, C3r. Unless otherwise indicated, books printed before 1700 will be cited by signature, books after 1700 by page number. Poems quoted from a modern edition will be cited by line; plays quoted from modern editions will cite act, scene, and line number. 20. Microphilus (Thomas Heywood?), The new-yeeres gift (London: Nichlas and Issac Okes, 1636), B3r–B3v. 21. Measurements are of the size of the text block, which refers to the size of the type page and the total type page. The type page is the measurement of the space available for text on a typical full page, measured from the ascender on the first line of text to the descender of the final line of text; the total type page includes headlines, footnotes, marginal notes, and other presswork to illustrate the maximum space available on the forme. All mea- surements will be in millimeters, and will accord to the following formula: Text block = Type page height × type page width (Total type page height × total type page width) Notes M 181

The size of the text block gives a better sense of the size of a book. Paper can be trimmed, so the size of the individual leaf cannot reliably tell us how large or small a book was intended to be. The text block, for obvious reasons, will rarely be cut, and its measurement gives us, at the very least, a sense of the absolute smallest size a folio can be. See Fredson Bowers, Principles of Bibliographic Description (Princeton, 1949; rpt. New Castle, DE: Oak Knoll, 1994), 300–6. 22. Bodley, Letters, 26, 46. 23. “I doe determine the next weeke, to send yow a proofe of the order that I take, in the coupling of bookes in one volume” (120). In this instance, Bodley is figuring out how to list coupled books in his library’s catalogue. 24. “I am glad of your good happe, in the booke that we lost, I meane Onus Ecclesiae, which assure your self, was once in the Libr. I pray yow cause it to be bound, if yow please with that other, if yow had it not before, which was ioined with it, or some other, for that I doubt it self it is to thinne to be bound alone.” (65–6). 25. On purchasing books as sheets in early modern England, see Knight, Bound, 4–5; McKerrow Introduction, 123–4; Raven 138–9; Margaret Benton, “The Book as Art,” A Companion to the History of the Book, eds. Simon Eliot and Jonathan Rose (West Sussex, UK: Blackwell, 2007), 500–1; Henry Petroski, The Book on the Bookshelf (New Your: Knopf, 1999), 152–3. Raven notes that trade bindings were more common in the late seventeenth century than bibliographers previously thought, but they were generally rare in the period covered here. 26. See Alexandra Gillespie, Print Culture and the Medieval Author (Oxford: Clarendon), 45–54. 27. David McKitterick, Print, Manuscript, and the Search for Order (Cambridge, 2003), 165. 28. ‘Spenser’s First Folio: The Build-It-Yourself Edition’ (Spenser Studes 21[2006] 21–49); see also his “Folios,” 56–61. 29. In his 1612 folio Poly-Olbion, Drayton apologizes for “hauing promised this Poeme of the generall Iland so many yeeres, I now publish only part of it” (A1r); the second part appeared in 1622. William Browne published Britannia’s Pastorals in two folios volumes c.1613 and 1616. The first vol- ume ends “Finis Libri primi” (P2v) (“The End of the First Book”), thus anticipating the second volume. That volume ends, “The end of the second Booke” (S4r) although no further volumes appeared. 30. Knight, Bound, 56–7. 31. D. F. McKenzie, “Typography and Meaning: The Case of William Congreve.” Making Meaning: ‘Printers of the Mind’ and Other Essays, eds. Peter D. McDonald and Michael F. Suarez, S. J. (Amherst, MA: U of Massachusetts P, 2002), 200. 32. For McGann, see especially pp. 59–72 of The Textual Condition. Piper explains his methodology in Dreaming in Books, especially pp. 10–11. 182 M Notes

33. Martyn Lyons, A History of Reading and Writing in the Western World (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2009), 68–70. 34. Steven Galbraith, “English Literary Folios 1593–1623,” Tudor Books and Readers, ed. John N. King (Cambridge, 2010), 49–61. 35. Ibid., 66–7. 36. William Gamage, Linsi-woolsie Or Two Centuries of Epigrrames (Augustine Matthewes, 1621), (F6r-F6v). 37. Gamage’s publisher Augustine Matthewes published the book in octavo. 38. See John Pitcher on Samuel Daniel’s folio Works (cf. below, pp. 67–71), or Douglas Brooks on Jonson in From Playhouse To Printing House, 104–39. Again, I am not claiming that folios were never meant to appeal to a patron: some copies of Daniel’s folio are designed for patrons, and I think Jonson’s Workes was motivated in part by a desire for patronage. However, these books are also commercial artifacts designed to be sold in the marketplace, and, regardless of their success at obtaining patronage for authors, publish- ers and booksellers still needed them to be successful in the marketplace. 39. Charles Forker, “How Did Shakespeare Come by His Books?” Shakespeare Yearbook 14 (2004), 113. 40. Anthony James West, “Ownership of Shakespeare First Folios Over Four Centuries,” The Library, 7th Series 10 (2009): 405–8,” see esp. the chart on p. 406. In particular, it is worth exploring the availability and use of credit in the book trade; for starters see Blayney’s musings on “Borrowing on deposit” (First Folio 29); his suggestion that booksellers may have “[lent] books for a fee” intriguingly introduces the possibility that bookseller/ bookbuyer transactions could involve more than simple POS transactions. 41. John Milton, Areopagitica, John Milton: Prose, ed. David Loewenstein (Malden, MA: Blackwell, 2013), 185. 42. The best outline of the publishing practices of Caxton and de Worde, and their uses of Chaucer as an early model for the commercial book trade, is Alexandra Gillespie, Print Culture and the Medieval Author, esp. pp. 67–117. For Caxton as a literary publisher see William Kuskin, Symbolic Caxton (Notre Dame: U of Notre Dame P, 2008), esp. 29–49. Paul Needham offers a handy primer on “The Aldine Shape,” see “Res papirea: Sizes and Formats of the Late Medieval Book,” Rationalisierung der Buchherstellung im Mittelalter und in der frühen Neuzeit, ed. Peter Rück (Marburg, Germany: Institut Fur Historische Hilfswissenschaften, 1994), 130–5. 43. For a catalog of early editions of Chaucer and Lydgate, see Gillespie 266–9; for a succinct overview of literary publication in the period, see Julia Boffey and A. S. G. Edwards, “Literary Texts,” The Cambridge History of the Book in Britain, Volume III: 1400–1557, eds. Lotte Hellinga and J. B. Trapp (Cambridge, 1999) and A. S. G. Edwards and Carol Meale, “The Marketing of Printed Books in Late Medieval England,” The Library, 6th series 15 (1993), 95–124. Notes M 183

44. Unless otherwise noted, dates for books indicate the first printed edition. 45. Greg’s Bibliography lists on 60 printed play publications (not including plays printed in collections) before 1576, and 83 before 1590. By contrast, it lists 64 play publications in the 1590s. 46. David Carlson’s survey of early English book formats also notes the pref- erence for smaller formats; see “Formats in English Printing to 1557,” Analytical and Enumerative Bibliography, New Series 2 (1988), 50; see also Peters 19–20. 47. According to the ESTC, at least 15 quarto, octavo, or 16mo editions of Ovid, and 14 of Virgil appeared before 1590. (These counts exclude mul- tiple entries.) Neither author appeared in an English folio during this period.

1 “Ungentle Hoarders”: From Manuscript to Print in Sidney’s Arcadias? 1. Peter Blayney (following W. W. Greg’s Bibliography of the English Printed Drama) begins “the Age of the English Printed Play” in 1583, but the printed play exploded as a viable print commodity in the 1590s. Blayney has found 51 plays entered in the Stationers’ Register between 1590 and 1599, which far outnumbers those registered in the 1580s, or any previous decade. (“The Publication of Playbooks,” A New History of Early English Drama, eds. John D. Cox and David Scott Kastan [New York: Columbia UP, 1997], 385). See also W. W. Greg, “The Stationers’ Register: Some Statistics,” Collected Papers, ed. J. C. Maxwell (Oxford: Clarendon, 1966), which lists 77 printed dramatic works and 54 dramatic works entered in the register from 1591–1600, compared to 16 and 6, respectively, from 1581–90 (347). Tiffany Stern’s work on performance and the historical conditions of the theater reminds us that the boom in dramatic publica- tion more likely results from the sudden necessity of new plays triggered by the opening of the Globe and other public theaters (see esp. Rehearsal From Shakespeare to Sheridan, New York: Oxford UP, 1999). For print and the emergence of sonnet sequences in the 1590s, see Marcy L. North, “The Sonnets and Book History,” A Companion to Shakespeare’s Sonnets, ed. Michael Schoenfeldt (New York: Blackwell, 2006), esp. pp. 207–9 and Joel B. Davis, The Countess of Pembrokes Arcadia and the Invention of English Literature (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2001), 79–80, 99–117; for the practice of commonplacing as published in the 1590s, see Peter Stallybrass and Roger Chartier, “Reading and Authorship: The Circulation of Shakespeare 1590–1619” (A Concise Companion to Shakespeare and Text, ed. Andrew Murphy (West Sussex: John Wiley, 2010), especially 43–52. 2. Francis Meres, Palladis Tamia (Cuthbert Burbie, 1598), Oo2r. Versions of sonnets 138 and 144 appear in Passionate Pilgrim; neither had been previ- ously printed. 184 M Notes

3. Noel J. Kinnamon comprehensively surveys the Psalter manuscripts in the recent OUP edition of Mary Sidney’s work; see The Collected Works of Mary Sidney Herbert Countess of Pembroke, Volume II: The Psalms of David, eds. Margaret P. Hannay, Noel J. Kinnamon, and Michael G. Brennan (Oxford: Clarendon, 1998), II. 308–36. 4. Arthur Marotti, Manuscript, Print, and the English Renaissance Lyric (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 1995), 7. 5. Love, Scribal Publication in Seventeenth Century England (Oxford: Clarendon, 1996), 180–1. See also Steven May, The Elizabethan Courtier Poets (Asheville, NC: Pegasus, 1999), which focuses on the individual courtiers, rather than the implications of the collaborative nature of their work. See in particular 2–5. 6. Marotti, Manuscript, 220. 7. Steven May, “Manuscript Circulation at the Elizabethan Court,” New Ways of Looking at Old Texts, ed. W. Speed Hill (Binghamton, NY: MRTS, 1993), 276. 8. The idea that poetic value lies in the act of publication rather than the text was shared by other such restricted fields of poetic production: Richard Wollman argues that in Donne’s coterie, “meaning exists in the exchange, and contrary to modern print assumptions, not solely on the page” (“The ‘Press and the Fire’: Print and Manuscript Culture in Donne’s Circle,” Studies in English Literature, 1500–1900, 33 [1993], 91); see also Ted- Larry Pebworth, who similarly considers the “performative” aspects of coterie poetic publication (“John Donne, Coterie Poetry, and the Text as Performance,” Studies in English Literature, 1500–1900, 29 (1989), 61–75; see esp. 62–5). 9. Sidney, Arcadia, ¶3r. For a comprehensive catalog of various type of literary manuscripts, see H. R. Woudhuysen, Sir Philip Sidney and the Circulation of Manuscripts (Oxford, 1996),134–73. 10. The basic critical engagement of the relationship between early modern manuscript and print publication remains Arthur Marotti, Manuscript. Additionally, H. R. Woudhuysen’s Sir Philip Sidney and the Circulation of Manuscripts offers a detailed history of manuscript publication that extends beyond lyric as a manuscript genre. See also Michael Rudick’s edition of The Poems of Sir Walter Raleigh (Tempe, AZ: Arizona Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2000), which refines the historical models of Marotti and Woudhuysen by recording Raleigh’s texts through manu- scripts to their printed forms. See also Margaret Ezell, Social Authorship and the Advent of Print (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins, 1999.) 11. For an excellent survey on the development of scholarship on manuscript and print cultures, see Zeynep Tenger and Paul Trolander, “From Print versus Manuscript to Sociable Authorship and Mixed Media: A Review of Trends in the Scholarship of Early Modern Publication,” Literature Compass 7/11 (2010): 1035–48. Notes M 185

12. Davis, Invention, 12. 13. The Arte is usually attributed to George Puttenham; see Gladys Doidge Willcock and Alice Walker, The Arte of English Poesie (Cambridge, 1936), xi–xliv. This may be the case, but it never circulated with an author’s name attached, so I will consider it an anonymous publication. Field’s introduc- tion, which notes that the book came “to my handes, with his bare title without any Authours name or any other ordinarie addresse” (2), indicates that the text had long circulated without attribution. All citations from Arte refer to this edition. 14. William Webbe’s A Discourse of English Poetry similarly reveals the hier- archy of rank in courtier aesthetics in his comment on court poetry: “I may not omitte the deserued commendations of many honourable and noble Lordes and Gentlemen in her Maiesties Courte, which in the rare deuises of Poetry have beene and yet are most excellent skylfull, among whom the right honourable Earle of Oxford may challenge to him selfe the tytle of the most excellent among the rest” (qtd. G. Gregory Smith Elizabethan Critical Essays. vol. 1 [Oxford: Oxford UP, 1904, rpt. 1950], I.243.) George Whetstone, in his memorial to Sidney, confirms that his court writing remained largely within that circle and out of public view: while praising Sidney as “not like a Carpet knight,/Whose glory is in gar- ments,” he laments, “If men but knew, the halfe that he did write” (Sir Philip Sidney, His Honorable Life. [ Thomas Cadman, c. 1587], B2v.) 15. See also Michael Brennan’s Literary Patronage in the English Renaissance (New York: Routledge, 1988), which, though primarily concerned with the Pembroke family, maps the strategies Elizabeth employed to effectively control her court officers by fashioning them into “mirrors of monarchic taste”: “At court, where so much intense concentration was brought to bear upon the personality of the sovereign, royal tastes could exercise a marked influence over the cultural pursuits of the aristocracy” (7). Additionally, Ralph M. Sargent’s At the Court of Queen Elizabeth (New York: Oxford, 1935), esp. pp. 14–55, which uses Edward Dyer’s literary career as a touch- stone for his history of Elizabethan patronage. 16. Steven May’s Elizabethan Courtier Poets maps the organization of the Elizabethan court and the role of poetry in it. According to May, a court- ier is not merely a person in attendance at Court, but one who had earned “Elizabeth’s personal recognition and acceptance” (20). Often, the Queen would signify her favor by assigning nicknames; such names, for May, are a crucial indicator of who was a proper “courtier.” Other courtier signi- fiers include birth status, regular mentions on the Queen’s New Year’s gift exchanges, and participation in court tournaments. The Queen’s offer of patronage did not in itself signify one was a courtier (21–7). May offers the term “court poet” to signify those, like Gascoigne or Spenser, who wrote poetry for the Queen but held a status below “courtier” (40). Similarly, Michael Brennan notes that royal patronage may “simply acknowledge 186 M Notes

sheer length of court service, rather than only as a tribute to outstanding literary achievement” (Literary Patronage 5–6). My term “literary coteries” encompasses the publishing practices of both coteries and the court. 17. On the other hand, May warns against using The Arte as “a virtually oracu- lar guide” to “the style, meaning, and function of poetry at the Elizabethan court” because of its uncertain relationship to actual court practices (9–10). However, even if The Arte does not accurately describe literary coterie practices, it offers evidence about how such groups were popularly perceived to have functioned, and provides a conception of the practice that would have been more widely read after the book’s 1589 printing. 18. For example, Harold Love, citing Walter Ong, argues that “while the printed book makes the experience of language passive and linear, script can be allowed a degree of ‘residual orality.’” Scribal publication preserved a “more intimate relationship between author and reader” and “rejected print-culture claims for words being the property of an author or copyright holder for a sense of texts as communally possessed” (“Oral and Scribal Texts in Early Modern England,” The Cambridge History of the Book in Britain, Volume IV: 1557–1695, eds. John Barnard and D. F. McKenzie, assisted by Maureen Bell [Cambridge, 2002], 117). However, aspects of printed books certainly contain moments of “residual orality” as well— note, in the Arcadia, several poems whose scansion is included; note the scaffold that notes the lacuna in Arcadia; note the courtly dialogue of Certain Sonets; note the Queen’s immaterial presence in the Lady of May— all of these moments illustrate how the printed book, however “linear” or “stabilizing” it may be, can offer moments of communal interaction as well as scribal publication. Wendy Wall also argues for the textual stasis of print, noting that the lit- erary folio “stand[s] at the end of a process of evolution in which publishers presented the book more as a monumental literary artifact inhering within itself and its origin and less as a process-oriented function that harkened toward more powerful readers and patrons” (Imprint of Gender [Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 1993], 89.) Wall describes publishing’s “evolution” from “a process-oriented function” into one producing “literary artifact[s] inhering within [themselves]”; however, the printed book continues to be “process- oriented.” The need for laborers to manufacture, edit, and correct books—as well as readers’ continued roles in contributing to printed books themselves (as recently outlined by Heidi Brayman Hackel, Reading Material in Early Modern England [Cambridge, 2005] and Stephen B. Dobranski, Readers and Authorship in Early Modern England [Cambridge, 2005])—ensures that a printed work, no matter how “monumental” or stable—always bears wit- ness to the process of its creation and the history of its usage. 19. Wall, Imprint, 31, 44. Marotti, Wall, Love, and, to a lesser extent, Woudhuysen accept the existence of what J. M. Saunders has called “The Stigma of Print,” which argues that “for the amateur poets of the Court an Notes M 187

avoidance of print was socially desirable” (“The Stigma of Print,” Essays in Criticism 1 [1951], 141; Saunders’ emphasis). The “stigma of print” has been usefully challenged, notably by Steven May, Richard Wollman (93–4) and Jean R. Brink (“Manuscript Culture Revisited,” Sidney Journal. 17 [1999]: 19–30.) It may be more accurate to understand such anxieties as evidence of adapting literature to a new technology and a new economic system for literary circulation. For example, Adrian Johns, in The Nature of the Book (Chicago UP, 1998), argues that “gentlemen repudiated authorship not out of simple snobbery, nor from affected repugnance at ‘the stigma of print,’ but because the character of the Stationer impinged on the fun- damental elements of the genteel identity” (176). A. S. G. Edwards’s mea- sured account of the relationship between manuscript and print usefully synthesizes theories of the sigma of print with recent skepticism about the concept. The circulation of Thomas Wyatt’s and Henry Howard’s lyrics in script and print “do not wholly endorse a view of them as represen- tative of the ‘stigma of print,’” but the manuscript work of a poet like William Forrest reminds us that exclusive systems of manuscript publica- tion remained after Songes and Sonets and other printed literary texts (“The Circulation of English Verse in Manuscript After the Advent of Print in England,” Studia Neophilogica 83 [2011], 74–5.) 20. Marotti, Manuscript, 229–30. 21. This argument is also implicit in H. R. Woudhuysen’s survey of the relationship of Sidney’s manuscript publications to their printed texts. Woudhuysen generally encourages a more dynamic interaction between manuscript publication and the book trade; unlike Marotti, he does not put print and manuscript publication in “opposition” (Marotti xii). However, he also sees the printed trade book as an inauthentic, or at least a depreciated, literary experience compared to manuscript publication. For Woudhuysen, the printed page becomes part of a poem’s “aesthetic experi- ence” that provides “charisma”—a term, his footnote recounts, borrowed from Lisa Jardine and similar to Harold Love’s “presence” and “aura” (15). Woudhuysen and his predecessors consider the page part of the pleasure of the book, something to be admired and fetishized. But they do not suggest that the printed page is a crucial interpretive component. Instead, the printed page “attract[s]” and “manipulate[s]” readers; it is a superficial element of the book designed to lure a reader to the book and somehow “manipulate” them—rather than, say “guide” them, “assist them in their interpretation,” implying that meaning resides in the text; the page is a dis- traction and a manipulation. Woudhuysen acknowledges that the arrange- ment of a book may “embody part of its meaning in its structure” (15), but he does not seem to grant a similar hermeneutic capacity to the individual page and remains suspicious of this capacity in printed books. 22. Steven Mentz, “Selling Sidney: William Ponsonby, Thomas Nashe, and the Boundaries of Elizabethan Print and Manuscript Cultures,” Text 13 188 M Notes

(2000), 169. Similarly, Michael Rudick reminds us that “the court was permeable” and poems could find a wider audience even without print (xxiv). 23. Richard Edwards, The Paradise of Daynty Deuises. (Henry Disle, 1576), A2r–A2v. 24. Ros King, Introduction, The Works of Richard Edwards, New York: Manchester UP, 2001, 42. 25. In the preface to Sundrie Flowers, the book’s supposed publisher, H. W., claims that he had it printed by “his friend A.B.” from a manuscript he received from the tale’s narrator, “G. T.”; see A Hundreth Sundrie Flowres, ed. G. W. Pigman (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000), 41–2. Watson, in his Hecatompathia or Passionate Centurie of Love (Gabriel Cawood, 1582), recalls how his poems had been well received in the Earl of Oxford’s liter- ary coterie, and because of this “many haue oftentimes and earnestly called vpon mee, to put it to the presse, that for their mony they might but see, what your Lordship with some liking had alreadie perused” (A3r–A3v). 26. Heeding Paul Marquis’s observation that the second edition was “the most influential version of Songes and Sonettes in the Elizabethan period” (“Politics and Print: The Curious Revisions to Tottel’s Songes and Sonettes.” Studies in Philology. 97 (2000): 145–65, 147), my text quotes the 1559 edi- tion. For a survey of these changes, see Hyder Edward Rollins, ed. Tottel’s Miscellany, vol. 1 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard UP, 1965), II.7–12. 27. Wall and Marotti both recognize the Songs and Sonets as a challenge to courtier literary culture, but both read courtier publication as triumphant in the book. For Wall, the book “makes visible . . . the ‘stigma of print’” (25) even as it appropriates courtly conventions; it “discloses to the public the poems circulating privately that writers had chose to keep from the realm of print” (26). In presenting these courtly writers as “ungentle hoarders,” Wall argues, the book “inscribe[s] the act of publishing as the more noble, “gentle” mode of exchange and the book reader as the truly “gentle” kind of textual consumer” (26). However, for Wall, this manuscript-influenced mode of print would give way to the author-centered model she associates with print; she discusses the book as an example of how the book trade may have developed had it continued to hew closely to manuscript convention. Similarly, Marotti argues that “Tottel characterizes print as fostering a civi- lizing process that reaches down to the lowest strata of society” (215) while “the aristocratic social origins of the anthology dignified the print medium (and the publishers who controlled the flow of texts within it)” (216). 28. John Davies, A Scourge For Paper-Persecutors (Henry Holland and George Gibbs, 1625). 29. The exchange between Elizabeth Eisenstein and Adrian Johns in American Historical Review 107.1 (2002), 87–126, conveniently summarizes this debate. 30. Loys Le Roy, Of the Interchangeable Course, or Variety of Things in the Whole World (Charles Yetsweirt, 1594), E3v. Notes M 189

31. The Workes of Sir Thomas More Knyght ( Richard Tottell, John Cawood, and John Waly, 1557), C2v. 32. Francis Bacon, Essaies. (Humfrey Hooper, 1598), A2r–A2v. For another example contemporaneous with the 1598 Arcadia, John Wolfe’s preface to his folio of John Huighen Van Linschoten’s Discours of Voyages into ye Easte and West Indies (John Wolfe, 1598) reveals that, upon procuring an English translation of the work, he “thought good to publish the same in Print, to the ende it might bee made common and known to euery body” (A1v). 33. Edmund Spenser, Foure Hymns (William Ponsonby, 1596), A2r. 34. Thomas Newman, “To the worshipfull and his very good Freende, Ma. Francis Flower Esquire, increase of all content,” Syr P.S. His Astrophel and Stella (Thomas Newman, 1591), (A2v). 35. W. W. Greg, “An Elizabethan Printer and His Copy,” Collected Papers, 99–100; Gerard Kilroy, “Advertising the Reader: Sir John Harington’s ‘Directions in the Margent,’” ELR 41 (2011), 64–5; 69–70. 36. Evelyn Tribble, Margins and Marginality:The Printed Page in Early Modern England (Charlottesville, VA: UP of Virginia, 1993). 37. Simon Cauchi, “‘Setting Foorth’ of Harington’s Ariosto,” Studies In Bibliography 36 (1983), 139. 38. Tribble, 96. On Harington’s marginal notes, see also Judith Lee, “The English Ariosto: The Elizabethan Poet and the Marvelous,” Studies in Philology 80 (1983), 277–98. 39. Kilroy, “Advertising,” 68. 40. Gerard Kilroy, The Epigrams of Sir John Harington, (Ashgate, 2009), 15. See also Kilroy, “Advertising,” 70–5, for descriptions of other unique cop- ies of the folio. 41. Kilroy, Epigrams, 70–1, from which I quote Harington’s letter; see Jason Scott-Warren, Sir John Harington and the Book as a Gift (New York: Oxford, 2001), 105–12 for a facsimile and a close reading of the letter and the included epigrams as part of Harington’s strategy for earning his mother-in-law’s acceptance. 42. Philip Gaskell, From Writer to Reader (Oxford: Clarendon, 1978), 12. Richard Field secured a patent “to imprinte a Booke called Orlando furioso in English verse translated by Iohn Harington prohibitinge all other per- sons to ymprynte the same” (W. W. Greg, A Companion to Arber [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1967], 151–2), perhaps suggesting Field’s need to protect his investment into this rather large but potentially unsalable book. Field subsequently printed (but not published) the 1598 Arcadia, so perhaps his economic savvy here suggests his experience with publishing literature in folio may have been crucial to the development of the format. 43. Scott-Warren, Gift, 50. He further notes that his bid for patronage did not appear to be successful, as evinced by Harington’s more critical representa- tion of the court in his later publications. See p. 55, as well as Chapter 3, “Privy Politics.” 190 M Notes

44. See Mark Bland, “The Appearance of the Text in Early Modern England,” Text 11 (1998), 114–7. 45. Tribble, 100. Tribble presumes a wider readership for the book, claiming that he “represents himself as translating the humanist edition, intended for scholars, into an English book designed for wider audience” (92). 46. Philip Sidney, The Defence of Poesy, Sir Philip Sidney: The Major Works, ed. Katherine Duncan-Jones (New York: Oxford UP, 1989). Citations from the Defence follow this edition. 47. H. R. Woudhuysen has mapped how Sidney’s work certainly circulated within at least his limited audience by arguing that the substantial num- ber of surviving non-holograph Sidney manuscripts attests to both his relative popularity and the perceived value of his manuscript publication Woudhuysen lists and describes all of the major manuscripts that include Sidney’s work, 393–412. More recently, Woudhuysen has argued that the audience for Sidney’s poetry may have been less restricted than previous scholars have thought (“Sidney’s Manuscripts (Again),” Sidney Journal 30 [2012], 117–25.)] 48. Katherine Duncan-Jones, Sir Philip Sidney: Courtier Poet (New Haven, CT: Yale, 1991), 147, 170. For the relationship between manuscript pub- lication and advancement within the court, see Ted-Larry Pebworth, who notes that the practice “provided . . . a useful screening procedure for appli- cants to the civil service” (62). 49. Steven Mentz, Romance For Sale in Early Modern England (London: Ashgate, 2006), 107. It is worth considering whether by the time of the printing of Sidney’s Defence, his complaints about print may have come across as anachronistically insular. Indeed, the fact that Sidney’s family and close associates were fairly quick to print his work perhaps suggests that Sidney’s reluctance may actually have been seen as eccentric or old- fashioned not long after he wrote his essay. 50. George Whetstone, Sir Philip Sidney, His Honorable Life (Thomas Cadman, c. 1587), B2v. 51. Syr P.S. His Astrophel and Stella. London: Thomas Newman, 1591. Subsequent citations refer to this edition. 52. Kevin Pask reads Nashe’s preface in the context of a more general challenge to the literary practices of aristocratic literary culture. See Emergence of the English Author, Cambridge 1996, esp. 60–5. 53. The Poems of Sir Philip Sidney, ed. William Ringler (Oxford: Clarendon, 1962), 544. For a further analysis of the text of the quarto, see MacDonald Jackson, “The Printer of the First Quarto of Astrophel and Stella (1591),” Studies in Bibliography 31 (1978), 201–3. 54. A Stationers’ Register entry on 18 September 1591 orders the “takinge in of bookes intituled Sir P : S : Astrophell and Stella” (Arber I. 555). The best overview of the reception and deletion of the quarto may be found in Woudhuysen, 367–71. In addition to Woudhuysen’s logical account, it seems possible that Ponsonby, who had been associated with the Sidney Notes M 191

estate since the Arcadia fiasco in 1588, may have had some role in the book’s recall. 55. Philip Sidney, The Countesse of Pembrokes Arcadia. (William Ponsonby, 1590), A4v. 56. Joel Davis notes that, at least in the 1590 edition of the Arcadia, the “ouer- seer” of print was “presumed by contemporaries to be [Fulke] Greville him- self” (“Multiple Arcadias and the Literary Quarrel between Fulke Greville and the Countess of Pembroke,” Studies in Philology 101 (2004), 404), although he is nowhere mentioned in the book. 57. “[F]or any understanding knoweth the skill of each artifacer standeth in that idea or fore-conceit of the work, and not in the work itself. And that the poet hath that idea is manifest, by delivering forth in such excellency as he had imagined them” (Defence 216–7). For a survey of debates surround- ing this concept, see esp. Michael Mack, Sidney’s Poetics (Washington, DC: Catholic University of America, 2005), 54–108. I have elsewhere discussed idea, and Sidney’s preface, as part of his larger attempt to reconcile the mental labor of creating poesy with the material objects that imperfectly record an author’s idea (“‘Delivering Forth’: Sir Philip Sidney’s ‘Idea’ and the Labor of Writing,” Sidney Journal, 31 (2013), 53–75.) 58. The contentious relationship between these two early editions of Arcadia is mapped in Joel Davis, “Multiple Arcadias”; Victor Skretkowicz, “Building Sidney’s Reputation: Texts and Editions of the Arcadia,” Sir Philip Sidney: 1586 and the Creation of a Legend, eds. Jan van Dorsten, Dominic Baker- Smith, and Arthur Kinney (London: Leiden UP, 1986), and Woudhuysen, Manuscripts, 224–32. 59. Arber II. 295. Ponsonby apparently repurposed some of Olney’s copies, replacing their original title pages with his own and reselling them. 60. Arber III.128 61. Arber I.523 62. From a pdf copy of Ponsonby’s will downloaded from the British Library website, June 2006. 63. Gerald O’Brien, “William Ponsonby, ” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, 2008. See also Jean Brink, “William Ponsonby’s Rival Publisher,” Analytical & Enumerative Bibliography 12 (2001), 185–205.Brink chal- lenges the conception of Ponsonby that “as a literary connoisseur in con- trast to his mercenary contemporaries”; she further notes that “Ponsonby did not immediately identify himself as a publisher of sixteenth-century literary texts” (186–7). 64. “William Ponsonby: Elizabethan Stationer,” Analytical and Enumerative Bibliography Vol. 7 No. 3 (1983), 103, 101, 91. 65. Joel Davis develops this point, calling Sidney “the guardian angel for Ponsonby’s business.” (Invention 120–7, qtd. 122.) 66. See also Brink, “Ponsonby,” 187–190. 67. Transcription from Woudhuysen, Manuscripts 416. 68. Edmund Spenser, Amoretti. London: William Ponsonby, 1595, ¶1r. 192 M Notes

69. Brennan, 110. As a result of “divers abuses . . . of late committed by sundry persons in enhauncing the prices and selling the same at too high and excessive rates and prices,” the Stationers capped the cost of new books published in Roman and Italic type at a halfpenny per sheet, and books in brevier and long primer at a penny per 1½ sheet. Illustrated books and reprints were exempt from these cost controls. Francis Johnson (from whom I take the above quote) has found that the few known book prices from the period roughly correspond with these guidelines (“Notes on English Retail Book-Prices, 1550–1640,” The Library. 5th Series, 5 [1950–1], 83–4). Note that Johnson lists wholesale, not retail prices. Although this is, at best, a rough guideline, it remains the best evidence for how books were priced in the 1590s. 70. Steven K. Galbraith comes to a similar conclusion in “English Literary Folios 1593–1623.” He identifies the 1593 as a “folio of economy” that “saves paper by making full use of the large folio page.” Our calculations differ—I round any fraction of a sheet up whereas Galbraith uses the frac- tions—but we both agree that the 1593 Arcadia was more economical in folio than in quarto. Jean Brink also assignes an economic motive for the move from quarto in 1590 to folio in 1593, presuming that the quarto Arcadia sold well, and thus “the market for Sidney supported publication of more expensive folio volumes” (“Ponsonby” 187). Mark Bland makes a similar claim: “the choice of format also serves as a commentary on the popularity of the first quarto edition” (“The Appearance of the Text” 119). However, as there was as yet no market for literary folio publication, it is not certain that the format could yet be taken as evidence of commercial success. 71. Citations from Sanford’s essay come from The Countesse of Pembrokes Arcadia. 2/e. (William Ponsonby, 1593), M4r–M4v. 72. For criticisms about the accuracy of the 1593 Arcadia see Michael McCanles, The Text of Sidney’s Arcadian World (Durham, NC: Duke UP), 1989, 134–43; for Mary Sidney’s editorial approach to Arcadia and the Psalter, see Margaret P. Hannay, Philip’s Phoenix (New York: Oxford,1990), 69–73; Hannay, Noel J. Kinnamon, and Michael G. Brennan, The Collected Works of Mary Sidney Herbert Countess of Pembroke, vol. I, 6–9. 73. Citations from Mary Sidney’s poems refer to Hannay et al. Ryan J. Croft characterizes Mary Sidney’s understanding of the collaboration of the Sidney Psalter as “the combination of [Philip] Sidney’s spirit and her body,” demonstrating her “emphasis on the bodily experience of writing” (“Sidney’s Wounds: Poetic Physicality, Revision, and Remembrance in the Sidney Circle,” Sidney Journal 31.2 (2013), 40–1). For the depiction of the Sidneys’ work in Arcadia and the Psalter as collaborative see also Connor, “Delivering Forth,” 70–4. 74. Sidney, Arcadia, 2/e, 2F3r. 75. Joel Davis unpacks the iconography of the folios’ title page, explaining that the “animals—bear, porcupine, and lion—glorify the Sidney-Dudley Notes M 193

alliance in the Elizabethan monarchy.” Davis claims that the page, notably its motto “spiro non tibi,” “marks out an exclusive familial terrain for the Arcadia” that excludes Greville and his 1590 edition (“Multiple” 429–30). See also Wendy Wall’s reading of the title page’s “triadic representation of social status, gendered confrontation, and literary authority” (Imprint 151–3). Margaret P. Hannay notes that “such aristocratic symbols on the title page would help market the book” (“The Countess of Pembroke’s Agency in Print and Scribal Culture.” Women’s Writing and the Circulation of Ideas, eds. George L. Justice and Nathan Tinker [Cambridge UP 2002], 46.) However, Stephen Orgel sees the representation of the boar and the Latin motto as restricting the book to an aristocratic audience, although it is difficult to imagine how a trade book could “restrict” its readership on the strength of the title page (“Textual Icons: Reading Early Modern Illustrations,” The Renaissance Computer. eds. Neil Rhodes and Jonathan Sawday [New York: Routledge, 2000], 62); similarly, Joel Davis notes that the Latin motto, derived from Tottel’s miscellany, is “a sign that the book was fit only for refined readers, not the rabble who would appreciate it no more than swine would sweet marjoram” (“Multiple” 429). Like Songs and Sonets, however, any reader who purchases the book can join this group of refined reader; the motto is not so much an exclusive bulwark as it is a claim for the texts’ literary value. 76. The title The Covntesse of Pembokes Arcadia is printed in 4, 5, and 7 mm Roman fonts, dwarfing the attribution to Sidney himself, which appears in 1–2 mm type. The page credits Sidney with writing the Arcadia—it is “Written by Sir Philip Sidney Knight”—but the prominence of the Countess of Pembroke indicates, at the very least, a bifurcated author- ship. The situation does not change as we enter the book: throughout the Arcadia, the running-titles indicate that this is “The Covntesse of Pembrokes | Arcadia.” 77. The title page illustration of the Arcadia folios would be radically retex- tualized when Matthew Lownes reused it for the title page of the 1611 folio edition of Edmund Spenser’s Fairie Queene, which may have been an attempt to remind readers of the association of Sidney and Spenser. The illustration would be used in other books published by Ponsonby and Lownes; see Orgel “Textual Icons” 62–3. Although it is not clear whether the publishers used the illustrations to tie other books to Sidney or Spenser, and while such repurposing of an illustration is common practice in the period, it perhaps suggests a version of social textuality continuing among printed books. 78. The folio is regularly referred to as a “collected edition” or a “works.” Arthur Marotti unambiguously refers to the 1598 folio as the “author’s collected works” (Manuscript 211, 229), calling it “a model for the incorporation of a writer’s lyric poems in a comprehensive, monumentalizing edition that celebrated his or her total achievements” (236). Wendy Wall thrice calls it a “monumental” folio (Imprint 89, 156, 158). Martin Garrett calls the 194 M Notes

book “the triumphant statement of Sidney’s reputation as the most impor- tant writer of the age” (Sidney: The Critical Heritage, New York: Routledge, 1996, 146). Heidi Brayman Hackel believes “the folios effectively become volumes of Sidney’s Works,” despite “the misleading retention of the title The Countesse of Pembrokes Arcadia” (Reading Material, 149). Margaret P. Hannay calls the volume “almost a Collected Works of Sir Philip Sidney, along the lines of the Petrarchan Rerum vulgarium fragmenta,” citing an unpublished conference paper as the genesis of this idea (“Agency” 17). Victor Skretkowicz calls the 1598 Arcadia “the first literary collection in English to rival that of the then old-fashioned Chaucer” (“Building” 122). See also William Ringler’s bibliographic description of the book in his edition of Sidney’s poems (Poems 535–6), which more or less summarizes conventional wisdom about the folio as Sidney’s “collected works” and a definitive text. 79. Brennan, “Ponsonby,” 101–2. He further argues that the 1598 folio fulfills Fulke Greville’s hope that a “‘collected works’ could be compiled contain- ing both Sidney’s texts and a selection of elegiac tributes adequate for his reputation” (101). Yet, as Brennan himself acknowledges, Greville’s imag- ined collection would include his religious works. Greville’s letter wants “a stey of that mercenary book” (Arcadia), so that they can publisheh the work that will provide Sidney “all thos religious honor{s} which ar worthely dew to his lyfe & deathe” (Woudhuysen 416). Greville’s imagined collection of Sidney’s work specifically excludes the Arcadia, which suggests Ponsonby or Countess Pembroke were the catalysts behind adding additional texts to Arcadia. 80. Heidi Brayman Hackel compares the line numbers to the notes in The Shepherds Calendar, arguing that “these line numbers announce that Sidney’s text is worth citing” (Reading 150). It may be notable, however, that none of the Arcadia annotators that Hackel discusses actually use these numbers. The line numbers appear to have been part of the skeleton forme and not set with the text; as a result they occasionally do not easily line up with the text, limiting their usefulness. 81. Dobranski, Readers, 69. 82. Manuscripts, 210. 83. Subsequent references to Sidney’s texts refer to The Countesse of Pembrokes Arcadia. 3/e. London: William Ponsonby, 1598. My approach here is indebted to Joel B. Davis, who reads the additional texts using the 1598 folio “as a framework within which to read Sidneian texts” (Invention 179–97.) 84. Marotti, Manuscript, 219–20. 85. Lisa M. Klein reads the entertainment as “a further attempt to fill the role of right poet at the center of public life” (The Exemplary Sidney and the Elizabethan Sonneteer [Newark: University of Delaware, 1998],73). Robert Stillman acknowledges that the work has a “topical relevance,” although he is unsure “about what that relevance is” (“Justice and the ‘Good Word’ in Notes M 195

Sidney’s Lady of May,” SEL 24 [1984], 29); nevertheless, he accepts the con- ventional reading that “justice demands” that Elizabeth choose Therion (36), and her choice of Eshpilus “destroyed the work’s unity” (37). See also Edmund Berry, “The Poet as Warrior in Sidney’s Defense of Poetry, SEL 29 (1989), 32–3. For a recent political and allegorical reading, see Michael G. Brennan, The Sidneys of Penshurst and the Monarchy 1500–1700 [London: Ashgate, 2006], 73–4. 86. Berry, The Making of Sir Philip Sidney. Toronto: University of Toronto, 1998, 49. 87. Edward Berry, reading the entertainment in the context of Elizabethan May games, argues that the text clearly presents Therion as the winner, by virtue of his livelier, carnivalesque responses (“Sidney’s May Game for the Queen,” Modern Philology 86 [1989], 254–5). Many critics, fol- lowing S. K. Orgel (“Sidney’s Experiment in Pastoral: The Lady of May,” Journal of the Warberg and Courtauld Institutes. 26 (1963), 198–203) identify what Berry calls notes “the incongruity of the ending” of the work (Making 219) as evidence that Elizabeth was supposed to choose Therion. Later critics such as Robert Kimrough & Philip Murphy, who assume that “surely Leicester and Sidney were Disappointed” in her deci- sion (“The Helmingham Hall Manuscript of Sidney’s The Lady of May: A Commentary and Transcription,” Renaissance Drama 1, (1968), 105), build on or accept this proposition. Katherine Duncan-Jones and JanVan Doorsten’s edition tries to resolve this incongruity by having the final poem sung by both Espilus and Therion—each taking the stanzas appro- priate to their character. However, this lacks any textual precedent—both the folios and the manuscript assign it to Espilus alone. Indeed, the pre- ceding stage direction resolves this fairly clearly, noting that “Espilus [did] sing this song, tending to the greatness of his own joy, and yet to the comfort of the other side, since they were overthrown by a most worthy adersary” (Miscellaneous Prose [Oxford, 1971], 30). The direction explicitly states Espilus as the lone singer, and part of his song is meant to assuage Therion. He does this by singing “two short tales,” one in his style, and the other in Therion’s—Espilus, the winning poet, demonstrates his skill by courteously appropriating the style of his opponent. Taken in context of the folio, the Queen’s choice of the Petrarchan Shepherd Espilus over the more rhetorically sophisticated Therion makes better sense within a book that features Arcadia. The work, then, ends on a note of unity, not discord or incongruity. 88. One critic who suggests such an approach is Martin Garrett in his intro- duction to Sidney: The Critical Heritage. Garrett imaginatively expounds upon the conventional political readings of its initial staging, but he notes that such interpretations “may have been more immediately apparent to those among whom the manuscript initially circulated than to buyers of the folio twenty years later” (6). Garrett’s take on the entertainment is close to Wall and Marotti’s paradigm for manuscript publication; he argues 196 M Notes

that the (extremely hypothetical) manuscript publication of the Wanstead Entertainment was part of a debate concerning the Queen’s choice of poet, but, in its printed version, it “lose[s] this flexibility” (7). 89. S. K. Orgel’s suggestion that the masque was included “apparently at the last moment” and in the interests of completeness” (“Experiment” 198) does not likely reflect the bibliographical situation of the work. While its odd presentation—the lack of title and running titles in particular— does indicate an “abruptness,” it would seem that Lady of May was planned to be included in the book. Orgel acknowledges that the work begins “on the verso of the last page of Astrophel and Stella;” additionally the signa- ture continues uninterrupted, suggesting a planned continuity. I think any oddities with the mise-en-page is at least partially the result of needing to fit the complete work onto the last gathering. That is not to say that its typographical oddity, or its “abruptness” does not have interpretive con- sequences; indeed, my claim in this section—that the work operates as a paratextual framework for reading the entire book—relies on its peculiar textual condition. 90. This may have been conventional in printed courtly entertainments; see, for instance, the Kenelworth entertainment in Gascoigne’s Workes, which begins “A briefe rehearsall, or rather a true Copie as much as was presented be-fore her maiesties at Knelworth” (Whoole workes of Geogre Gascoigne Esquire: Newlye compiled into one Volume [Abell Jeffres, 1587], 2A.1). For the development of the title page from manuscript incipits, see Margaret Smith, The Title Page: Its Early Development, 1460–1510 (New Castle, DE: Oak Knoll, 2000), 35ff. 91. Wendy Wall also argues that the title page figures can represent the May Lady and Espilus as part of her reading of the title page’s “triadic repre- sentation of social status, gendered confrontation, and literary authority” (Imprint 151–3). 92. Using the 1598 regulations as a guideline, I estimate that Diana would cost 3l 7d wholesale, and about 4l 4d retail. 93. Diana and Arcadia appear to have been published around the same time, perhaps indicating some strategic collusion by the books’ publishers. George Bishop entered Diana in the Stationers’ Register on 9 September 1598. Ponsonby enters Astrophel and Stella on 23 October 1598, and it is likely that, having confirmed his legal right to publish the disputed Astrophel text, he published the folio soon afterward. 94. Thomas Hackett published the first English Amadis, which included selections drawn from the first thirteen books by Thomas Pannell, in quarto in 1577. The first selection from Anthony Munday’s translation was published in quarto by Edward Allde in 1589 or 1590; subsequent quarto editions appeared in 1595 (book two, translated by Lazarus Pyott, and printed for Cutbert Burbie) and 1598 (book five, published by John Wolfe and Adam Islip, who also printed it.) For the influence of Amadis on Arcadia and Philip Sidney’s knowledge of the romance, see Helen Notes M 197

Moore, intro. and ed., Amadis De Gaule (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2004), xx–xxi. 95. Robert Tofte, Honours academie. Or The famous pastorall, of the faire shep- heardesse, Iulietta, London: Thomas Creede, 1610, [pilcrow]4r. The quote appears in a dedication to Lady Anne Herne; the book includes another prefatory address to “The Curteous and Judicious Reader, and To None Other” ([pilcrow]5r), presumably extending the book’s readership to men as well. Tofte’s association of a modestly sized book and female read- ers anticipates Humfrey Moseley’s similar claim in his 1647 edition of Francis Beaumont and John Fletcher’s Comedies and Tragedies, for which see pp. 164. 96. Margaret P. Hannay, Mary Sidney, Lady Wroth (Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2010), 230. 97. Hannay, Mary Sidney, 234–5. Hannay suggests that the offer “may have been a rhetorical ploy” since there is no evidence that Urania was actually recalled, although she suggests that the lack of prefaces to the work may indicate that Wroth may have, at the last minute, decided not to go ahead with the printing. The book may nevertheless have been printed because the stationers, likely having already invested in the book, “needed the prof- its from selling it” (235). See also Rosalind Smith, “Lady Mary Wroth’s Pamphilia to Amphilanthus: The Politics of Withdrawal,” ELR 30 (2000), 408–31. 98. “Aditions to the Arcadia by Sr William Alexander knight” was entered to William Barrett on August 31, 1616; he transferred the title to Matthew Lownes on March 22, 1619.

2 Samuel Daniel’s Works and the History and Theory of the Book 1. Joseph Loewenstein, The Author’s Due: Printing and the Prehistory of Copyright (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2002), 87. 2. Loewenstein notes that two poets were rivals for royal privileges, and this rivalry often played out in their masques; see “Printing and ‘The Multitudinous Presse’: The Contentious Texts of Jonson’s Masques,” Ben Jonson’s 1616 Folio, eds. Jennifer Brady and W. H. Herendeen (Newark, DE: U of Delaware P, 1991), 168–91. 3. David McPherson records a copy of Daniel’s folio sold at auction in 1906, described as “contain[ing] numerous marginal notes by BEN JONSON” (“Ben Jonson’s Library and Marginalia: An Annotated Catalogue,” Studies in Philology 71 [1974], 39). 4. David Kay acknowledges Daniel’s precedent but ultimately offers a con- ventional account of Jonson’s “daring” inclusion of plays in the Workes (Ben Jonson: A Literary Life [New York: St. Martins, 1995], 141–3.) W. H. Herendeen calls Jonson’s folio “his opera” (“A New Way to Pay Old Debts: Pretexts to the 1616 Folio,” 1616 Folio, 13). Michael Hattaway, 198 M Notes

linking the Daniel and Jonson volumes, implies that Jonson alone was censured because “the title [was] a translation of the Latin opera which, it was felt, ought to be reserved for greater matter” (Renaissance and Reformations [Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2007], 55). James K. Bracken surmises that Jonson “wanted a monument to his art, to break with the tradition which labeled the drama as ephemeral” (“Books from William Stansby’s Printing House, and Jonson’s Folio of 1616.” Library 6th series 10 [1988], 19.) James Riddell, suggesting more dynamism to the title, writes that “at the heart of [Jonson’s] undertaking there was almost certainly much more involved than Jonsonian audacity” “Ben Jonson’s Folio of 1616,” The Cambridge Companion to Ben Jonson, eds. Richard Harp and Stanley Stewart [Cambridge UP, 2000], 152). 5. Jeffery Knapp, “What Is a Co-author?” Representations 89 (2005), 19–20. 6. With this, I will expand on James Riddell’s suggestion that “the word ‘Works’ was intended to bear its full share of meaning” (“Folio” 153); indeed, I will argue this is the case with Daniel’s as well. 7. Alexandra Gillespie, Print Culture, 142. 8. I quote from the 1598 edition because its proximity to the folios of Daniel and Jonson. Following its first printing, new editions appeared in 1566, c.1577, and 1587 (posthumously; Heywood died in 1580). 9. From the ESTC: Richard Greenham, Workes (1599, 1600 [part 2], 1601, 1605); Josephus (1602, 1609); William Perkins (published in Cambridge 1608, 1612, c.1616) ; John Jewell 1611; Edward Dering 1614; Gervase Babington 1615, Henry Greenwood 1616. 10. I can find no other uses of “omniportent” in OED or EEBO, and it is rather likely that it is merely a mis-setting of “omnipotent.” But what a typo— its sense that one cannot carry (“portent,” from the Latin “portare”) all knowledge (“omni”) with them contrasts the perceived limitations of a book with a large physical book that at least appears omnipotent. 11. For Jewell as an early adapter of the book trade for theological debate, see Patrick Collinson, Arnold Hunt and Alexandra Walsham, “Religious Publishing In England 1557–1640,” The Cambridge History of the Book in Britain, Volume IV: 1557–1695, eds. John Barnard and D. F. McKenzie, assisted by Maureen Bell (Cambridge UP, 2002), 37–40. 12. See, for example, Bracken, “Books, ”18–29; Mark Bland, “William Stansby and the Production of The Workes of Beniamin Jonson, 1615–16,” Library 6th series 20 (1998), 1–33. 13. “Lastly I would informe you, that this Booke, in all nu[m]bers, is not the same with that which was acted on the publike Stage, wherein a second Pen had good share: in place of which I haue rather chosen, to put weaker (and no doubt lesse pleasng) of mine own, then to defraud so happy a Genius of his right, by my lothed vsurpation” (Jonson, Seianus His Fall (Thomas Thorpe, 1605), ¶2v.) 14. John Pitcher, “Essays, Works, and Small Poems: Divulging, Publishing, and Augmenting the Elizabethan Poet, Samuel Daniel.” The Renaissance Notes M 199

Text, ed. Andrew Murphy (Manchester, UK: Manchester UP, 2000), 14. See also “Benefiting from the Book: The Oxford Edition of Samuel Daniel,” Yearbook of English Studies 29 (1999), 75–80, where he summa- rizes the extensive bibliographic work he has done for the edition. 15. Arthur Marotti, Manuscript, Print, and the English Renaissance Lyric (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 1995), 230; Pitcher, “Editing Daniel,” New Ways of Looking at Old Texts, ed. W. Speed Hill (Ithaca, NY: MRTS), 1993, 62. 16. “Editing,” 67, 64. See also D. F. McKenzie, whose take on Daniel’s “obses- sion with the permanence of print” draws heavily from Pitcher (“Speech— Manuscript—Print,” Making Meaning, eds. Peter D. McDonald and Michael F. Suarez, S. J. (Amherst, MA: U of Massachusetts P), 249–50). 17. Pitcher, “Editing,” 66. 18. “Essays,” 14. Similarly, Mark Bland sees the folio as Daniel “emphasizing the text as a personal testament and laying claim to be the foremost poet of his generation, in succession to Sidney and Spenser” (“Appearance,” 121). Steven Galbraith also argues “the appearance of his Works broadcast an effort to proclaim his position as the next great English poet” (“Folios,” 60–1). While Daniel attempted to fashion himself a successor to Sidney and Spenser, it seems that it is not simply his folio, but his entire printed corpus, that demonstrates this ambition. 19. “Editing” 70–1. 20. After his first authorized edition of Delia and Rosemond Augmented in 1591, these works reappeared in a 1594 16mo that also added his closet drama Tragedie of Cleopatra; and they were subsequently republished in a 1598 octavo. The first fowre bookes of the ciuile warres first appeared in 1595, and this was later included in the 1599 Poetical Essays alongside other poems. His folio Works appeared in 1601, and smaller collections, all in differ- ent formats and including a different collection of writing, appeared in 1603, 1607, and 1611. The most comprehensive bibliography remains that of H. Sellers, “A Bibliography of the Works of Samuel Daniel 1585–1623,” Oxford Bibliographical Society: Proceedings and Papers 2.1 (1927): 29–45 and supplemented in 2.4 (1930): 341–2. In addition, the Folger owns a Photostat copy of this article with annotations by Edwin Nungezer that corrects Seller’s article based on the Folger’s holdings. [PR2466.Z1 S3]. 21. Pitcher, “Essays,” 14. 22. As a crude-but-illustrative comparison: four quartos published in 1598 used more than 80 sheets, placing them in the relative price range of the 1601 folio Works. 23. For further evidence of Daniel’s popularity and marketability during this time, I would turn to Jonson’s use of Daniel in Every Man In His Humour (see p. 118–19). 24. Strangely, The Civil War is not actually titled until the opening of the fifth book. Perhaps the poem was originally published with a separate title page and it was designed to stand alone. This title page would be replaced by the Works title page. 200 M Notes

25. One copy of Civil War from the 1602 folio is bound separately (Folger STC 6237 Copy 4). This may demonstrate that the component parts of Works were indeed published separately, but, in this case, it is unclear whether this was a bibliographical unit from the time of its initial purchase or a later butchering. 26. The complete Folger copies are all similarly organized in three broad sec- tions: Civil War, the shorter poems, and Delia. I have yet to find a copy that was certainly re-arranged by a contemporary bookbuyer. Answer potential objections: of course, it is possible that the binder would have had instruc- tions of now to bind the sheets. It is also more likely that the individual registers came from the printers, not Daniel or even Waterston’s idea. Yet Sidney’s collection, and Jonson’s later, maintain continuous register and/or numeration; Daniel’s Works, in not doing so, offers the impression of three individual, autonomous sections, rather than a unified book. 27. Blount is the only publisher other than Waterson who works with Daniel. Blount may have known Waterson through William Ponsonby, to whom Blount was apprenticed. Blount and Waterson enter Daniel’s Tragedy of Philotas into the Stationers’ Register in 1604, and both are listed as publishers in the 1605 edition of the play. Later Waterson collections of Daniel’s include the poems printed in the 1603 folio even though there is no record of Blount reverting the rights to Waterson; this suggests some cooperative arrangement between the publishers. 28. Some copies of Workes that include Panegyrike Congratulatory include Folger 6237 Copy 2, University of Delaware (Special Collections PR2241 .A1 1602a), a presentation copy to Thomas Egerton (see Pitcher, “Samuel Daniel’s Gifts of Books to Lord Chancellor Egerton,” Medieval and Renaissance Drama in England, 17 [2005], 231), and Daniel’s 1605 pre- sentation copy to the Bodleian. Jeffery Todd Knight observes that “extant configurations of the ‘Works’ volumes in libraries vary to such a degree that it is difficult to find two identical editions” (Bound 172). 29. “Editing,” 65. Henry Sellers posits that it was “perhaps hurriedly printed to accompany the 1602 [sic] Works folio, which it closely resembles in type and ornaments” (36). Steven Galbraith posits that the folio “an early form of serial publication” and an influence on the Spenser folios of the 1610s (“Folios” 56). 30. Jeffery Todd Knight, Bound to Read (Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 2013), 175. 31. Along this line, Knight associates Workes, specifically Musophilus, which he considers “the centerpiece and raison d’etre” of the folio, as compa- rable to Edmund Spenser’s use of print to establish the “New Poet” in The Shepheardes Calender (Bound, 166–77). 32. Adrian Johns The Nature of the Book (Chicago: U of Chicago P, 1998), 3. 33. Quotes from Historie are from the 1612 edition. In general, his passage on the lack of print in early England rebuts his account of the invention of print in Civil War. Whereas his poem pictures print as a disruptive force, Notes M 201

in Historie he records that “though the Britaynes were then simple and had not that fire-brand of letters, yet seemed they more iust and honest . . . men as Magnanimous, and toucht with as true a sense of honour . . . But hauing no firme combinements to chayne them together in their publique dangers, they lay loose to the advantage of the common enemy, working vppon the factions, and emulations, vsuall to such diuisions, and were made instru- ments of their owne subiection: for whilst euery one defended them apart, the whole was ouercome” (B4v–B5r). In this passage, the early English kingdoms are factionalized before the invention of print (Nemesis hopes “Factions” will emerge as a result of print in Civil War, stanza 41). It may not be out of line to read this passage as suggesting that the “fire-brand of letters” may have united some of these disparate kingdoms, but the key meaning—that print was not responsible for social strife—is important to understanding Daniel’s philosophy of print culture. 34. Daniel’s assessment of Henry I’s emphasis on learning is affirmed by a more recent historian, C. Warren Hollister, who notes that Henry’s court “charted a new course for England and Normandy in the twelfth-century world of literacy and letters” (Henry I, New Haven: Yale, 2001,495). 35. All citations from Civil War will be from the 1601 Works; parenthetical citations refer to stanzas. 36. William Barlowe, writing about the compass in 1597, both contrasts and links it with gunpowder and the press: “If of olde time they had not this Instrument, it seemeth impossible that euer they could haue performed such voyages as they did: And if euer they had it, then were it as strange, that all memorie thereof should be vtterly suppressed, and that Ptolomey had not found some mention thereof made in Marinus Tyrius, or other Cosmographers, whose workes were extant in his time. Experience testi- fieth, that this began to be in common vse about the time that Printing was inuented, and the making of Gunnes. Both which, although they are of very excellent vse and great wonderments to the world, yet doeth this farre excell and exceede. For all things performed by them, are marshalled within the limittes and bounds of humane reason; and therefore their causes being knowen, their wonder ceaseth. But this being incomprehen- sible vnto humane reason, carieth it away captiue vnto the astonishment thereof, and leadeth it to the admiration of him, whose wisedome compre- hendeth all things, and distributeth knowledge and vnderstanding among men, according to such measure, times, and meanes, as seemeth best vnto himselfe; opening the eyes of the blind, and giuing vnderstanding to the simple, destroying the wisedome of the wise, and making the vnderstanding of the prudent for to hide it selfe.” (The Navigators Supply (George Bishop, Ralph Newbery, and Robert Barker, 1597), A4r) Roy Wolper notes that of the three inventions embodying “the Idea of Progress,” “the overwhelming majority saw printing as an expeditious advance over the ancients’ efforts” (“The Rhetoric of Gunpowder and the Idea of Progress,” Journal of the History of Ideas. 31 [1970], 593.) Daniel’s view, then, is somewhat unique. 202 M Notes

37. Wolper has argued that contemporaries did not f ind gunpowder an “entirely suitable emblem of progress” as the compass and the press with which it was often associated, but Daniel’s account imagines print as having parity with gunpowder (597). Further, Wolper notes that of the three inventions embodying “the Idea of Progress,” “the overwhelming majority saw print- ing as an expeditious advance over the ancients’ efforts” (593); Daniel’s view of print as a harmful advance, then, is rather unique. Contrast the accounts of William Barlowe (Navigators, A4r), Thomas Bastard (Epigram 33 of Chrestoleros, 1598) and John Donne’s Christmas sermon of 1621, all of which, in contrast to Civil War, posits print as a beneficial invention in contrast to gunpowder. 38. Writers like John Foxe, in his Acts and Monuments, discussed printing as a human art inspired by God: “Wherefore, almighty God of hys mercifull prouidence, seeing both what lacked in the church, and how also to remedy the same, for þe aduauncement of his glory, gaue the vnderstanding of this excellent arte or science of printing” (Acts and Monuments, London: John Day, 1583, 708). Francis Bacon, similarly, sees God’s hand in the inven- tion of the printing press in his Advancement of Learning. Elizabeth Jane Weston’s 1606 book Parthenon contains a poem by George Carolides on “Typographia” that offers a conventional account of the origin of printing: she credits its discovery to Johann Gutenberg, while calling it “Divinum caelo demissum manus”—“a divine gift sent from the hand of god.” The full Latin text and a translation appear in J. W. Binns, “Four Latin Poems on Printing,” Library 6th series 4 (1982), 38–41. 39. Pitcher reads this passage as evidence of Daniel’s “anxiety about print”: “In his analysis of the twinned effects of print and gunpowder on European history, he had observed that it was ‘instamped characters’ and the press which had shattered the balance of power held by the small states of medi- eval Europe” (“Editing” 62). 40. Waterson published almost all of Daniel’s books during the author’s life- time. As evidence of their close association, Daniel names Waterson an overseer in his will, calling him “my loving ffreind” (“A Bibliography” 54). In a letter to James Kirton in May 1608, Daniel reports that he is stay- ing “private in a garden howse of mr Watersonnes” (Selected Poetry and A Defense of Rhyme, eds. Geoffrey G. Hiller and Peter L. Groves [Asheville, NC: Pegasus Press, 1998], 53), indicating that they remained close even after Daniel’s primary interest had changed to prose history. 41. Notably, Puritan pamphleteer William Prynne, following Adrien de Jonghe, attributes the invention of the press to Coster, not Gutenberg, within a narrative that printing was a “common” trade that should be regu- lated by the guilds, not the crown (Johns 331–6). In contrast, Richard Atkyns imagined print as “the product of royal action and investment” to justify increased royal control of the press after the Restoration (341). 42. Arthur B. Ferguson similarly argues that “whatever doubts [Daniel] may have had concerning the civilizing value of ordinance, he had to admit the Notes M 203

important part played by the press in spreading abroad the benefits of the very pre-Erasmian learning he professed to admire. But printing had also demonstrated that it could be a very mixed blessing, a “firebrand” capable of touching off a conflagration.” For Ferguson, Daniel’s origin story for print exemplifies how, for Daniel, “innovation, as distinct from gradual change, represented . . . a challenge to the natural order” (“The Historical Thought of Samuel Daniel: A Study in Renaissance Ambivalence,” Journal of the History of Ideas, 32 [1971], 197). 43. Tribble, Margins, 129. For the Stationers’ edict see Arber, 1 June 1599 44. Citations from Musophilus are from the 1601 Works, and I include for con- venience the corresponding line numbers to Hiller & Groves’ edtion of Daniel’s poetry. Daniel frequently revised Musophilus, as he did with most of his poems; the passages I emphasize here are common to all versions of the poem. 45. Laurence Michel reads Musophilus’ response as a return to manuscript culture, rather than a defense of print; this return “girds against the paper- blotters.” By publishing within a coterie, “Daniel’s work . . . will be of the ivory tower . . . He will be satisfied to please the ‘better sort of men’; and his work will be of and for a coterie” (The Tragedy of Philotas. New Haven, CT: Yale, 1949, 6–7). However, Musophilus itself appeared as a printed text, and this return to the exclusivity would appear regressive; also, Michel’s reading of the poem does not comport with his belief that “Daniel had the educated scorn for the multitude, but he is rather ahead of his times in feeling for the people as the important ground of the state” (16)— printing his work and allowing it to circulate widely, would better benefit this “multitude.” 46. Knight, Bound, 171. 47. Citations of this poem refer to Montaigne, trans. Florio, The Essayes (Edward Blount, 1603), (¶1r). 48. Daniel, Works, 1601, 2F1v. 49. Poems and a Defense of Ryme, ed. Arthur Colby Sprague (Cambridge, MA: Harvard, 1930), 139. 50. For example, Geffrey Whitney, in his 1586 A Choice of Emblems (Leyden, The Netherlands: Christopher Plantyn, 1586), argues that The volumes great, who so doth still peruse, And dailie turnes, and gazeth on the same, If that the fruite thereof, he do not vse, He reapes but toile, and neuer gaineth fame: Firste reade, then marke, then practise that is good, For without vse, we drinke but LETHE flood. (Y2r) Whitney associates reading and writing in books as examples of “use,” anticipating and perhaps influencing Daniel’s use of the term. For evi- dence that the concept of “use” proved crucial to seventeenth-century thinking about books, see the anonymous essay “An Introduction to the Use of Books” in the 1658 Catalogue of the Most Vendible Books in 204 M Notes

England. For a comprehensive account of reader’s annotation of books, and early modern ideas about such annotation—issues relevant to Daniel’s idea of “use” under discussion here—see William H. Sherman, Used Books (Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P.), 2008. 51. The citation refers to Hiller and Groves, ll. 80–9. 52. Daniel, “A funerall poem vppon the death of the late noble Earle of Deuonshyre,” London: Simon Waterson, 1607, A2v–A3r, my emphasis. 53. My notion of Daniel’s idea of the book as an object whose value is located in is use is analogous to Alzada Tipton’s depictions of Daniel’s historiography as one that “reveal[s] a practical side to his theorizing about historiogra- phy”; for Daniel, the study of history is not an opportunity for moraliza- tion, but an attempt to recognize “the political lessons that are common to both past and present” and “realize that what is irrecoverable from the past—such as the motivations of historical agents—is vitally important and (relatively) accessible in the present” (“Caught between ‘virtue’ and ‘memorie’: Providential and Political Historiography in Samuel Daniel’s The Civil Wars.” Huntington Library Quarterly, 61 [1998], 331–3). As I argue that Daniel sees the book as an object that can be used to edify the present rather than simply record the past, Tipton reads his historiography as one that should inform contemporary politics rather than merely record past events. 54. John Pitcher argues that Daniel marginalizes any readers other than the aristocrats to whom his work was dedicated. When discussing Daniel’s 1607 poem “To the Reader,” he defines Daniel’s addressed reader as “Daniel’s strange alter ego, who could aspire to a complete knowledge . . . of this poet’s writing” (“Editing” 24). The Reader is “unidentified and undifferentiated by social rank and learning and even gender, and only distinguishable by nationality, being English” (“Editing” 16), and he has “witnessed the poet’s errors of judgment.” This Reader is only imaginary, invented by Daniel “so that the achievement of his canon . . . can be acknowledged and made intelligible” (17). This imaginary reader contrasts the “real” courtly read- ers who, in his formulation, were the intended audience for Daniel’s work. Pitcher even suggests that the death of Daniel’s patron the Earl of Mountjoy “forced [Daniel] suddenly to grant such overwhelming importance to the Reader”: newly lacking a real patron, Daniel turns to an abstract, imaginary but omniscient readership to serve as audience for Daniel’s poetry. 55. Daniel, A panegyrike congratulatorie to the Kings Maiestie. Also certaine epistles. London: Edward Blunt, 1603, C3r. 56. John Pitcher cites a letter from Daniel to Egerton that similarly “intends a parallel with his own Works: the moral is, good works by good patrons draw good works from poets” (“Samuel Daniel’s Gifts of Books to Lord Chancellor Egerton,” Medieval and Renaissance Drama in England, 17 [2005], 218). 57. It is worth keeping in mind that, aside from occasional passages in books such as Loys Le Roy’s 1595 Variety of Things in the Whole World (see p. 32), Notes M 205

no descriptions of printing were published in English until the Mechanick Exercises of Joseph Moxon in 1687. As the wealth of book-metaphors that I have already discussed in this book indicate, authors who wanted to talk about print often needed to employ metaphors from other disciplines to do so. 58. Daniel had earlier published one work, a prose translation of a Paolo Giovio tract in 1585. For the Astrophel and Stella recall see the Stationers’ Register entry for 1591, which records the “takinge in of bookes intit- uled Sir P[hilip]: S[idney]: Astrophell and stella (Arber I. 262). See also Woudhuysen, Circulation 366–381 for a full recording of this affair and a hypothesis about Daniel’s role in it. 59. Daniel, Delia. London: Simon Waterson, 1592, A2. 60. In addition to Pitcher, see Stephen Guy-Bray, “‘The Achievement of Print’: Samuel Daniel and the Anxiety of Authorship,” Explorations in Renaissance Culture 29 (2003), esp. pp. 104–5. 61. Citations refer to the 1592 edition of Hypnerotomachia, Simon Waterson, John Busbie, and William Holme, 1592. 62. Coleman Hutchison’s “Breaking the Book Known as Q” provides a con- cise illustrated survey of conventions of sonnet publication in the 1590s (PMLA 121 (2006): 33–66). Marcy L. North also surveys the relationship between the possible influence of sonnet sequences from the 1590s and the appearance of Shakespeares Sonnets in “The Sonnets and Book History,” A Companion to Shakespeare’s Sonnets, ed. Michael Schoenfeldt (West Sussex, UK: Blackwell, 2006). 63. Hiller & Groves, Selected Poetry, Introduction, 21. 64. Christina Alt, reading the poem in the context of the controversy sur- rounding Philotas, similarly argues that the poem “serves as a preface to the collection as a whole” (“Directed Readings: Paratext in A Game at Chess and The Tragedie of Philotas,” Philological Quarterly, 83 (2004), 137). 65. Citations refer to Certaine Small Works, London: Simon Waterston, 1607, and are keyed to Hiller and Groves. 66. Maren-Sofie Rostvig, “A Frame of Words: On the Craftsmanship of Samuel Daniel,” English Studies, 60 (1979), 122–37. 67. Sir Thomas Bodley, Letters of Sir Thomas Bodley to Thomas James, ed. G. W. Wheeler (Oxford: Clarendon, 1926), 1. 68. Ihon (John) Shute, The Chief Grovndes of Architecture (Thomas Marshe, 1563), A 2v; B2v. 69. Sebastian Serly, The Firste Book of Architecture (Robert Peake, 1611), A4r. 70. For this contrast, see Elizabeth Eisenstein, Printing Press as an Agent of Change, 2 volumes (New York: Cambridge, 1979), I.471–88. 71. Daniel elsewhere encourages this: an errata sheet in a Folger copy of the 1599 Poeticall Essayes encourages the reader: “Correct I beseech you gentle Readers, these faults escaped in the printing” (Folger 6261 copy 2 v. 1, χ1r). Daniel’s direct (“I beseech”) plea to the “gentles Readers”—a for- mulation that recalls Tottel’s similar flattery in his preface to Songs and 206 M Notes

Sonnets—seems particularly solicitous of the reader’s assistance in correct- ing the book’s errors. Many errata notes make similar appeals, but Daniel’s potentially more interesting in light of his notion of “use.” The 1594 16mo Delia uses a similar formulation: “Gentle Reader correct these faultes escaped in the printing” (A4v Folger 6254). 72. Pitcher, “Editing,” 61–2; Pitcher’s emphasis. 73. All quotes from this poem are cited by line from The Complete Works In Verse and Prose of Samuel Daniel. 5 Volumes, ed. Rev. Alexander B. Grosart (Privately Printed, 1896, rpt. New York: Russell & Russell, 1963), which is the only modern edition to reprint this significant poem. Regarding the history of the Bodleian copy, although David Scott Kastan’s suggestion that Daniel’s Workes’ “absence from the 1605 [Bodleian] catalogue is tell- ing” (“Humphrey Moseley and the Invention of English Literature,” Agent of Change: Print Culture Studies after Elizabeth L. Eisenstein, eds Sabrina Alcorn Baron, Eric N. Lindquist, and Eleanor F. Shevlin [Amherst: U of Massachusetts P, 2007], 110); any number of mundane reasons could have caused it to not appear in this catalogue, as anyone who has ever had to organize a heap of books within an empty structure can attest. However, Kastan’s observation that Daniel’s poem to Bodley “insists on the institu- tional conditions that determine poetic immortality” (110) accords with my reading of the poem and Daniel’s approach to the book. 74. Of course, the Bodleian is not completely open—in Daniel’s time it would be restricted to Oxford students and scholars. Nevertheless, the poem can be read as a general example of architectural and literary work collaborat- ing for the benefit of a wider, if not universal, public.

3 Ben Jonson’s Workes and Bibliographic Integrity 1. For the textual history of Passionate Pilgrim, see The Passionate Pilgrim, ed. J. Q. Adams (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1939); Shakespeare’s Poems, eds. Katherine Duncan-Jones and H. R. Woudhuysen (London: Thomson Learning), 2007, 489–98; Complete Sonnets and Poems, ed. Colin Burrow (New York: Oxford UP), 2002, 74–82. 2. Citations from Hyder Edward Rollins, ed., The Passionate Pilgrim: The Third Edition, 1612 (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1940.) 3. All quotations are from Rollins, xxvii–xxviii. It appears Heywood only looked at the title page and did not discover the other seven poems lifted from his work. 4. See Joseph Loewenstein, Ben Jonson and Possessive Authorship (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2002), 59–68; Brian Vickers, Shakespeare, Co-author (New York: Oxford UP, 2002), 522–3; James P. Bednarz, “Canonizing Shakespeare,” Shakespeare Survey 60 (2007), 264–5. 5. Thomas Heywood, Troia Britannia (William Jaggard, 1609.) All citations are key to this text. Notes M 207

6. Similarly, see Edward Fairfax in “To her High Maiestie,” the prefatory poem to his 1600 Godfrey of Bulloigne: “Should we then know nere known before, / Whether her wit, or worth were more? / Ah no! that booke would nere be ended” (A2r). 7. For instance, see Benedict Scott Robinson, “Thomas Heywood and the Cultural Politics of Play Collections,” SEL 42 (2002), 361–80, but see also Loewenstein, Possessive Authorship 50–2 and 104 and Sonia Massai, Shakespeare and the Rise of the Editor (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2007), 165–70 for measured considerations of Heywood’s concern about the impact of the book trade and the theater. Troia itself offers a brief, critical account of the invention of print, one that, like Daniel’s story of Nemesis, begins with deceit: he credits print’s invention to Faustius, who purport- edly claimed to be the inventor of print after having stolen the technology from his master, Coster (Johns, 331–5): Humphrey the Duke of Gloster, was depriu’d His harmlesse life at Bury: Suffolke now Was banisht England, where he long had striu’d By the King’s grace to make the Barons bow, Iacke Cade, a mutinous Rebell, now suruiu’d, Dating the Kings Edicts to disalow: This was the yeare of Iubilee: In Menz, Faustius first printed, at his owne expence. The Turkish Mahomet sackt and despoylde Constantinople: at this time was fought Saint Albons battaile, where the King was foyld, and by the Duke of yorke a prisoner blought To London, (2P5v) Where Daniel’s Pandora only implies the turmoil that print will cause, Heywood associates print’s development with moments of historical tur- moil: in addition to Cade’s rebellion (which Daniel also cites as a key moment in the development of print), he indicts the sack of Constantinople and Henry VI’s defeat at Saint Albons as events analogous to the emer- gence of print culture. As with Daniel, Heywood’s career in print suggests a more practical, accommodating relationship with print culture, and his presentation as author and editor in Troia may be an attempt to present the folio as a model book. 8. Thomas Dekker, The Wonderfull yeare (Thomas Creede, 1603?). 9. Douglas Brooks, From Playhouse to Printing House (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2000), 107. 10. David Gants, “The 1616 Folio (F1): Textual Essay,” The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson Online, Cambridge. Gants includes a helpful sur- vey of scholarship on Jonson’s folio in his Descriptive Bibliography, 1–33. Gants argues that “an examination of the textual variants found in the Jonson folio support the notion that the author involved himself at some 208 M Notes

level in the proofing and correcting of the volume (313). In general, how- ever, recent Jonson scholars have been less inclined to put a lot of weight on Jonson’s possible work in the printshop. Although Joseph Loewenstein’s article “The Script In the Marketplace” has influenced many subsequent explorations of Jonson’s “bibliographic ego,” Loewenstein himself suspects Jonson’s participation in the folio’s creation has received too much empha- sis, see Possessive Authorship. Taking up Loewenstein’s caveat, Douglas Brooks helpfully pushes back these traditional narratives of Jonson’s con- trol of the minutia of the folio’s printing, warning against scholarship that “frequently conjure[s] images of the dramatist peering over the printer’s shoulder to supervise the presswork on his book” (Playhouse 106). 11. Knapp, “Co-author,” 19. Knapp specifies that its innovations lie in being “the first commercial dramatist to publish a collected edition of his works,” and its offering “greater prestige for the players” listed in the folio, as actors had never before been credited in an English book (20). 12. See in particular Brooks, Playhouse, 104–39, which places a lot of interpre- tive weight on the coincidental publication of King James and Jonson’s folios in 1616. 13. Herendeen, “Introduction,” in Ben Jonson’s 1616 Folio, eds. Jennifer Brady and W. H. Herendeen (Newark, DE: U of Delaware P, 1991), 13. 14. Arthur Marotti, Manuscript, Print, and the English Renaissance Lyric (Ithaca, NY: Cornell UP, 1995), 238–40. 15. Knapp, “Co-author” 19–20. 16. Different states of the title pages bear the names of either Bishop, Norton, or Wight; the ESTC lists these as three separate editions, but they are more likely the same edition with different states of title page. The three publishers likely split costs: Wight and Norton would together obtain a patent for law-books in 1599 (McKerrow Printers 289). Bishop seems to have been keen on investing in large folio publications; his name appears on imprints of Hakluyt’s Voyages and Holinshed’s Chronicles, and, in 1598, Monteymayor’s Diana. He was a prominent member of the trade, serving as Queen’s printer with Chirstopher Barker, and was Master of the Stationers’ Company several times, including the 1599–1600 term. One of Bishop’s executors was John Norton, cousin to Bonham Norton (McKerrow Printers 201–2). 17. “Chaucer, undoubtedly, did excellently in his Troilus and Crisyde; of whom, truly, I know not whether to marvel more, either that he in that misty time could see so clearly, or that we in this clear age go so stumblingly after him.” (Defense 242). Speght’s edition quotes Sidney’s praise of Chaucer, calling it “the testimony of the most worthiest Gentleman that the Court hath afforded of many yeares” (c3v). Spenser, in “June” of The Shephaerdes Calendar, says of the poet, “Chaucer, hath bene already sufficiently sayde, & by thys more playne appeareth, that he sayth, he tolde merye tales. Such as be hys Canterburie tales. whom he calleth the God of Poetes for hys excellencie” (Hugh Singleton, 1579),G1v. Francis Meres, in 1598, repeats Notes M 209

Spenser’s appellation of Chaucer as “the God of English poets,” compara- ble to Homer (Smith II. 314). Thomas Godfray published the first Workes of Geffray Chaucer in 1532, a folio edition edited by William Thynne. This edition, according to the ESTC, was reprinted in 1542, c. 1550, and 1561. Following the last edition, no printed editions of Chaucer—neither indi- vidual nor collected works—appear, which may indicate that Chaucer’s literary reputation, as amplified by Spenser and Sidney (as well as publica- tions like Robert Henryson’s Testament of Cressid in 1595) may not have immediately translated into trade sales. The ESTC also lists individual folio editions for House of Fame, Troilus and Cressida, and The Canterbury Tales in 1526, published by Richard Pynson. 18. The 1598 Chaucer would appear in a revised and improved second edition in 1602, but it would not again be reprinted until 1687. Derek Pearsall observes that the Speght Chaucer “held sway for well over a hundered years . . . It was the text read and owned by Milton, Junius, Pepys, Dryden, and Pope, and by a multitude of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century gen- tlemen with respectable tastes and sturdy bookshelves” (“Thomas Speght (ca.1550–?).” Editing Chaucer: The Great Tradition, ed. Paul G. Ruggiers [Norman, OK: Pilgrim Books, 1984], 91.) The most influential part of the book may have been the biography of Chaucer, which remained definitive until 1840 (77). 19. The preface is unsigned in the folio, but the references to correcting the text make it apparent that Speght was the author, not Adam Islip or any of the other publishers. None of the prefatory material is immediately attrib- utable to the publishers. 20. Arber I.293. 21. Eisenstein, Printing Press 81. For Eisenstein, the ability of print to dis- seminate correction is a crucial aspect of “standardization,” one of the three major innovations she ascribes to print. See Printing Press 80–8. But see also, Randall McLeod (aka Random Clod), who has demon- strated how errata lists and stop-press corrections could not assure that print could not always defeat error; indeed they often put the reader at a disadvantage by acknowledging the non-uniform production of printed work (“Information on Information,” Text 5 [1991], 241–81.) Similarly, see David McKitterick, Print, Manuscript, and the Search for Order 1450– 1830 (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2003), pp. 97–138, for a more skeptical account of print’s potential to actually correct error. It is probably safest to acknowledge that the degree to which print could accurately present text was a matter of debate rather than to generalize about how early modern subjects understood this capacity; my argument simply recognizes that, at the very least, a group of poets and other literary writers more or less sup- port Eisenstein’s optimistic characterization of attitudes toward the early modern press. 22. Arthur Marotti considers Speght’s Chaucer, along with Sidney’s Arcadia, models of “collected editions in the prestigious folio format,” and he 210 M Notes

specifically notes the biography in the Chaucer book as a “sign of the grow- ing importance of authorship” (236). 23. Pearsall, 71. 24. Trigg, 129. 25. The block for the Chaucer folio measures, at its largest, 263 x 169 mm; including the skeleton forme it is 276 x 169 mm (Folger 5078 Copy 1). Arcadia measures 227 x 135 (232 x 140). For comparison, John Florio’s World of Wordes folio has a more typical text block of 217 x 142 (for a double-column book, like the Chaucer). All subsequent citations refer to the 1598 folio. 26. The most complete examination of the use of Blackletter in English print- ing may be found in Bianca Finzi-Contini Calabersi’s 2004 Columbia University dissertation Gross Characters: the Unseemly Typography of Early Modern Drama, pp. 65–126. More recently, see Douglas Brooks, “Typographic Nostalgia: Play-Reading, Popularity, and the Meanings of Black Letter,” The Book of the Play, ed. Marta Straznicky (Amherst, MA: U of Massachusetts P, 2006). 27. David McKitterick, Search for Order, 120. 28. Trigg, 129. 29. For a reading of Hawes and John Skelton as early authors informed by “the idea of shaping an authorial presence through print,” see Seth Leher, Chaucer and His Readers (Princeton, NJ: Princeton, 1993), 176–208. 30. William Kuskin, “‘The Loadstarre of the English Language’: Spenser’s Shepheardes Calendaer and the Construction of Modernity,” Textual Cultures 2 (2007), 27–8. 31. For an account of Jonson’s possible goals for his Workes that ties the book into Elizabeth Eisenstein’s conception of print culture, see David Riggs, Ben Jonson: A Life (Amherst, MA: Harvard, 1989), 221–3. 32. Richmond Barbour uses the contents page as evidence that Jonson appears “self-assertive and aloof” and removed “to a bookish distance” in the book by emphasizing “Jonson’s social dependencies” and “declar[ing] the poet’s debts to notable persons and institutions whose interventions brought him towards as achievement that, with the publication of this volume, bids to transcend time” (“Jonson and the Motives of Print,” Criticism 40 (1998), 514). However, Jonson’s prominence on the title page, and the book’s refusal to seek patronage, the book instead gives the impression that Jonson operates from a position of authority, who is not so much dependent upon these dedicatees but allowing them to share his biblio- graphic space. 33. Orgel, “Textual Icons,” 103. Similarly, W. H. Herendeen notes “the entry to THE WORKES OF Benjamin Jonson is through the portals of the tri- umphal façade of the title page, which establishes the critical and generic range of the volume,” and argues that it “[illustrates] the ideal moderation of tragic and comic extremes in tragicomedy” (“New Way” 44–5) Notes M 211

34. Latin text from Workes, ¶3v-¶4r; translations adapted from D. H. Craig’s in Ben Jonson: The Critical Heritage, ed. D. H. Craig (New York: Routledge, 1990), 125–6. 35. Translation from John T. Shawcross, ed., The Poetry of John Donne (Garden City, NY: Anchor 1967), p. 218. See also Dennis Flynn and Marcia Karp, “Donne’s ‘Amicissimo, et Meritissimo Ben: Jonson’ and the Daring of Volpone,” Literary Imagination, 6 (2004), 368–89. 36. Kevin Dunn, Pretexts of Authority: The Rhetoric of Authorship in the Renaissance Preface (Palo Alto, CA: Stanford UP, 1994), 19. Jonson acknowledges a “second Pen” who contributed to the publicly performed text of Sejanus, and informs his reader that he has removed this “weaker” material in the published quarto (H&S IV 351). For Jonson’s bibliographi- cal self-presentation in these books, see Tribble, Margins, 146–57. 37. Ben Jonson, Catiline His Conspiracy (Walter Burre, 1611), A3r. All quotes from these prefaces appear on this page. 38. Jonson, Catiline, A2v–r. 39. See, for instance, Marotti, Manuscript, 241–3; Richmond Barbour, “ Motives,” 511. 40. Francis Beaumont, in a prefatory poem to Catiline that later appeared in the Workes, praises Jonson for having “squar’d thy rules, by what is good,” and hopes for a future where “readers can grow vp to it” (Catiline A3v). John Fletcher explicitly equates the Reader Ordinarie to the commercial book trade, attacking their “learned ignorance” which drives them to “crie ill” and reject Jonson’s play. Fletcher depicts this as an act of reading: the reader “lay you by”—sets Jonson’s book down—and instead calls for “Pasquill, / Or Greene’s deare Groatsworth, or Tom Coryate, / The new Lexicon, with the errant Pate.” Nathaniel Field echoes Jonson’s essay, com- plaining “in this Age, where Iigs and Dance moue, How few there are, that this pure worke approue!” (A4r) 41. Ranjan Ghosh, “Ben Jonson and His Reader: An Aesthetics of Antagonism” [sic], The Comparatist 27 (2013), 140. 42. Jonson, Timber, in Ian Donaldson, Ben Jonson: A Critical Edition of the Major Works, ed. Ian Donaldson (New York: Oxford, 1985). All citations from Timber are keyed to this edition. 43. Stephen Dobranski reads one of the folio’s poems, the “Epistle to Elizabeth Countesse of Rutland,” as an exception in that it “uniquely suggests Jonson’s ambivalence” about the autonomous author presented in Workes. (Readers and Authorship in Early Modern England [Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2005], 101.) Even in this case, however, the poem simply ends “The rest is lost,” suggesting finality to its fragmentary nature that distinguishes it from, for instance, the editorial intervention announcing the lacuna in the folio Arcadia. 44. Katharine Eisaman Maus, “Facts of the Matter: Satiric and Ideal Economies in the Jonsonian Imagination,” 1616 Folio, 86. 212 M Notes

45. Ibid., 66. 46. Like Daniel, Jonson’s definition of “work” as an architectural term informs his idea of the book. A. W. Johnson’s research into Jonson’s architectural influences concludes that “Jonson appears to conceive of language in archi- tectural terms. The disposition of that language in a poem resembles the disposition of an architectural plan, and the poet is like a moral archi- tect” (34). Johnson’s online of Jonson’s architectural influence extends to Jonson’s conception of the author’s work as the foundation of the book, and with what Riddell terms the “architectural function” of the book’s title (“Folio” 153). If Daniel as architect constantly refines his forms, Jonson as architect emphasizes the integrity of the structure itself: while both see the art of architecture as collaborative, Jonson ultimately sees the work as the manifestation of its architect’s plan. 47. Lorna Hudson, ed. and intro., Volpone and Other Early Plays (London: Penguin, 1999), xvii. 48. Barbour, “ Motives,” 511. Barbour reads the folio as an attempt “to make his work canonical in print” (500) in that it “display[s] aloofness from its conditions of emergence on the market . . . present[ing] itself as a distin- guished commodity quietly available to those who know, and can afford, to seek it” (502). This notion of Jonson as “aloof,” or attempting to dif- ferentiate himself from the market, is further developed by Alan Sinfield, who uses Poetaster to argue that Jonson reluctantly participates in the book trade: the market “is rejected by Jonson insofar as it supports what he regards as the trivializing pressures of the public playhouses.” For Jonson, the market is always “vulgar,” however Jonson seeks a “more elevated and critical type of theater” (“Poetaster, the Author, and the Perils of Cultural Production,” Renaissance Drama, 27 [1996], 12). 49. “Motives,” 411. On the other hand, Joseph Loewenstein argues that Jonson recognizes the marketplace as fundamental to his literary endeavors, and so he actively participates in the book trade: “Jonson’s repeated protesta- tions on behalf of the dignity of poesy derive not only from the Sidneian tradition of poetic defense, but also from his nascent awareness of the new value that was beginning to accrue to dramaturgy within this disorderly market” (“The Script in the Marketplace,” Representations 12 [1985], 106). Jonson, in Cynthia’s Revels and his masques, “place[s] a poet-figure on stage and dramatizes his control by giving him extraordinary cohortative power,” which reaches its apex in publication, which “completes the dis- placement of the performers both as a representational and as an economic fact” (107–8). Jonson’s idea of the book, then, attempts to bypass the col- laboration inherent in the theater; publication provides opportunity for the poet to function autonomously, without the “Henslowes of London” chop- ping his scripts and arbitrarily selling them to publishers. By selling his own text, Jonson can retain some control, however limited, over his work. Because of this, Loewenstein concludes, “the Folio, if not nondramatic, is Notes M 213

at least an antittheatrical Workes” (“Script” 108). For Lowenstein, Jonson’s folio does not represent a struggle against the marketplace, but an attempt to identify and defend a niche role for the author in the marketplace. 50. Two years before Ben Jonson’s similar preface to Catiline, Thomas Heywood similarly distinguishes those whose judgment he praises and who he expects will continue to write histories, are readers who will “vnder- standingly consider this project” and “Censure it fauourably” as opposed to the Critickes who “continually carpe at other mens labours . . . superfi- cially pervsing them, with a kind of negligence and skorne” (Troia, A4r–v). Heywood is “content to neglect” the Critickes and to trust his literary fate to the learned Courteous readers. 51. Jennifer Brady records a note in one copy of the folio that records a shared purchase of the book (two men pay five shillings each), and the purchas- ers’ intent for the book “to be commone in the howse at Idell times, to all comers” (“Authority” 102). 52. Joseph Loewenstein discusses the interaction of Martial, Jonson, epigrams and the book trade in Possessive Authorship, 127–32. 53. The poems are quoted from the 1616 folio and, where necesary, keyed to the line numbers in Donaldson’s Oxford Authors edition. 54. D. F. McKenzie, “Typography and Meaning: The Case of William Congreve.” Making Meaning: “Printers of the Mind” and Other Essays, eds. Peter D. McDonald and Michael F. Suarez, S. J. (Amherst, MA: U of Massachusetts P, 2002), 200. 55. In 1612, publisher John Stepneth entered in the Stationers’ Register “A booke called, BEN JOHNSON his Epigrams” (III.485). No copy of this exists, and Jonson never references an earlier edition of his poems, and I find it unlikely that the book was ever published. However, it does seem that Jonson at least considered publishing the poems separately; these first epigrams read like the introduction to a stand-alone edition. 56. Tom Hayes suggests that Jonson’s attempt to distinguish his self from its printed representation was indicative of his idea of the book trade: “for Jonson, unlike Shakespeare, writing was a commodity and an author was called upon to produce a form of labor that was inevitably “alienated”; that is, an author had to construct a private self that was separate from the product and from the various communities of speech in which the author was immersed” (The Birth of Popular Culture: Ben Jonson, Maid Marian, and Robin Hood [Pittsburgh, PA: Duquesne UP, 1992], 11). 57. Roger Chartier, Forms and Meanings (Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 1995), 30. 58. D. F. McKenzie uses Staple of News to reveal Jonson’s dislike of the news trade, see “‘The Staple of News’ and the Late Plays.” Carolyn Nelson and Matthew Seccome offer a useful précis of news publication in London, albeit one focused on the late seventeenth century, see “The Creation of the Periodical Press,” CHB4, esp. pp. 533–6. 214 M Notes

59. See Julian Roberts, “The Latin Trade” in CHB4 and R. B. McKerrow, A Dictionary of Printers and Booksellers in England, Scotland, and Ireland, 1557–1640 (London: The Bibliographical Society, 1968), 31–3. 60. Text from 1616 Workes, cross-referenced to Helen Ostovich’s Revels edi- tion (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2001.) 61. Citations from both versions of EMI are cross-referenced to J. W. Lever’s parallel-text Regents edition (Lincoln, NE: U of Nebraska, 1971.) 62. For a recent consideration of Daniel and other author-figures in EMI and their significance for illustrating “the topicality of the literary scene in 1598,” see Robert Miola, Ben Jonson: Every Man in His Humour (Manchester, UK: Manchester UP, 2000), 16–18. Miola discusses the quarto text of the play, but such topicalities are relevant to the 1616 text as well. 63. Jonson, more readily than Daniel, sees borrowing as plagiarism; see Jonson’s epigram “On Playwright” recounts his own work’s appropriation by another writer who “Five of my jests, then stolen, passed him a play.” For a detailed account of Jonson and plagiarism see Loewenstein Possessive Authorship 104–32. 64. Epicoene, 4.4.83–4; Bartholomew Fair, 5.3.81–6, both cited from Bevington et al., The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson, 9 volumes (New York: Cambridge UP, 2002). 65. Tom Cain, ed. Poetaster (New York: St. Martin’s, 1995), 255, note 530.

4 “Whatever you do, buy”: Literary Folios and the Marketplace in Shakespeare, Taylor, and Beaumont and Fletcher 1. All quotes from Cowley come from Poems (London: Humphrey Moseley, 1656). Italics are retained from this edition. The book Cowley refers to is The Foure Ages of England: or, The Iron Age, published anonymously in 1648. 2. Cowley’s reference to “Poems” almost certainly refers specifically to Jonson, because he was the only author mentioned who had poetry published in a “vast volume.” Cathy Shrank suggests that Cowley refers to John Benson’s 1640 edition of Shakespeare’s Poems (“Reading Shakespeare’s Sonnets: John Benson and the 1640 Poems,” Shakespeare, 3 [2009], 271–2), but that relatively small volume does not seem to fit with the concern about the size of books that he expresses in the passage. In addition, Jonson’s 1640 folio includes a new selection of poems titled Underwood, which Jonson himself calls “lesser poems of later growth” (Donaldson 307). Underwood better fits Cowley’s desire to “prune and lop away” less deserving poetry. 3. However, Cowley is less concerned than Jonson about expressing that his poems are complete: Davideis is, like most rhymed Royalist epics, incomplete. 4. This notion of the folio is influenced by Alexandra Halasz’s notion of the “commodity-pamphlet,” which she defines as a pamphlet that “bypass[es] the author-function’s capacity to ascribe or metonymically indicate productive Notes M 215

agency and using it instead to mark a category of potential consumption.” For such pamphlets, “the key issue becomes one of motivating consum- ers” (The Marketplace of Print: Pamphlets and the Public Sphere In Early Modern England [Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1997], 172). I will refine Halasz’s definition a bit by describing the author-function of folio publica- tions as “branding,” with the implication that authorship in the folios of Shakespeare and John Taylor continues to represent “productive agency”— the folios do, in part, stand as testament to their authorial legacies—but that the books also attempt to use these authorial names as synecdoche for target markets (Shakespeare=theater and the King’s Men; Taylor=popular writing). 5. I use Lair et al.’s definition of “branding” as “a programmatic approach to the selling of a product, service, organization, cause, or person that is fashioned as a proactive response to the emerging desires of a target audience or market” (Daniel J. Lair, Katie Sullivan, and George Cheney, “Marketization and the Recasting of the Professional Self,” Management Communication Quarterly, 18 [2005], 309). 6. Gary Taylor, “Making Meaning Marketing Shakespeare 1623,” From Performance to Print in Early Modern England, eds. Peter Holland and Stephen Orgel (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2006), 65. 7. Andrew Murphy, discussing Shakespeare’s folio, wisely posits that “the folio format may not necessarily in itself have been intended as a gesture of aggrandizement, since the sheer quantity of text involved would almost certainly have ruled out any other format for a single volume edition” (Shakespeare in Print: A History and Chronology of Shakespeare Publishing [New York: Cambridge UP, 2003], 43). See also Steven Galbraith’s con- ception of Shakespeare’s folio as “a folio of both necessity and economy” (“Folios 63–6, quote from 66.) 8. Shakespeare, Loues Labors Lost, The First Folio of Shakespeare: The Norton Facsimile. Second Edition, ed. Charlton Hinman, rev. Peter W. M. Blayney (New York: Norton, 1996), TLN 485–7. Unless otherwise noted citations from CHT refer to this edition. 9. Some other examples: George Chapman’s Monsieur D’Olive, “He that fils a whole Page in folio, with his Stile; thinkes it veriest Noble, to be mand with one bare Page and a Pandare” (William Holmes, 1606); John Earle, “A Pretender to Learning” from Micro-Cosmographie (1628): “His Table is spred wide with some Classicke Folio, which is as constant to it as the carpet, and hath laid open in the same Page this halfe yeare” (Edward Blount, 8Iv). 10. Guillaume de Salluste Du Bartas, The First Day of the Worldes Creation. I. Jackeson, 1595, B4v. See John Boys, An Exposition of the festival epistles and gospels: “Now man as being a little world, and as it were the compen- dious Index of Gods great booke in folio, participates a being with stones; life, with plants; sense, with beasts; understanding, with Angels” (William Aspley, 1615, H7r); Thomas Heywood, Pleasant Dialogues: “The world is 216 M Notes

Gods great booke in Folio. Every creature is a severall page, in which we may reade some instruction to further us in heavenly wisedome” (Richard Hearne, 1637, R4v). 11. Richard Crakanthorpe, Vigilius Dormitans, Robert Mylbourne, 1631, A6r. 12. “Astrea” likely refers to the 1620 English translation of Honore d’Urfe’s The History of Astrea, published in a 56-sheet quarto. 13. William Prynne, Histrio-Mastix (Michael Sparke, 1633), **6v. 14. Henry Fitzgeffrey, Certain Elegies (Miles Partriche, 1618), G4r-G4v. 15. See also John Davies, “A Scourge for Paper Persecutors” (Henry Holland and George Gibbs, 1625): As some old Church-book (that would make one sweaty To turne it twice) at large (good man) doth shew How his good Wife, good Beere, and Ale doth brew. With which (lest Readers foulely might mistake) He many Leaues, in Folio, vp doth take, To make them brew good Beere, and Ale aswell As his good wife; and all the Art doth tell. (1625, C1v) And Henry Parrot, “A Ballad-maker” in Cures For the Itch: “His greatest volume done in Folio is to bee purchast but for two brasse tokens, which either you may please to light Tobacco wth or sacrifice to Aiax for purga- tion” (Thomas Jones, 1626, A3r). Additionally, Michael Drayton’s Preface to his 1622 Poly-Olbion may refer to an instance where his book’s paper is used in such a way. In the second part of his folio Poly-Olbion, published 1622, Drayton complains that unsold copies of the first part have either “despightfully left out, or at least carelessly neglected the Epistles to the Readers, and so haue cosigned the Buyers with unperfected Bookes” (John Marriott, John Grismond, and Thomas Dewe), A2r, suggesting perhaps that those missing preliminaries were used for other purposes. 16. Kastan, Shakespeare and the Book, 63. 17. My emendation of a compositor error; Fitzgeffries’s text reads “Terriman,” a word not listed in OED nor found elsewhere in EEBO. “Ferriman,” on the other hand, is commonly used as a term for people who ferry people across water—John Taylor’s profession. 18. Fitzgeffrey, Certain Elegies, A8r–A8v. 19. A. H., “A Continued Inquisition Against Paper-Persecutors,” included in Davies 1625, B1r. 20. A. H., “Inquisition,” 2A2r. 21. Drayton’s folio publications were Poly-Olbion (part one 1613, part two 1622) and Poems (1619), which was modeled on Jonson’s Workes. He would also publish The Battaile of Agincourt in folio in 1627. 22. Peter W. M. Blayney, The First Folio of Shakespeare (Washington, DC: Folger Library Publications, 1991), 1. 23. Halasz, Marketplace, 164. Notes M 217

24. Newes from the New World from Ben Jonson, eds. C. H. Herford and Percy and Evelyn Simpson, 11 volumes (Oxford: Clarendon: 1925–1952), VII.515. 25. Roger Chartier makes a similar observation: “The 1616 volume of his Workes, in which Jonson in a veritable master stroke published in the folio format those of his works that he deemed worthy of such as honor, attests to the credit he attached to print. Ten years later, The Staple of News expressed his discomfort with the authority that print bestowed on rumors bruited about by the gazettes and his anxiety in the face of the popular passions that London booksellers stirred up in pursuit of handsome prof- its for themselves” (Inscription and Erasure. Trans. Arthur Goldhammer [Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 2007], 59.) 26. Alan Farmer has observed that Jonson criticizes the fantastic and fictional reporting in these news sheets, and his Staple of News “is dedicated to undermining [newspapers] by revealing the pamphlets’ utter lack of truth” (“Play-Reading, News-Reading, and Ben Jonson’s The Staple of News,” The Book of the Play, ed. Marta Straznicky, [Amherst: U of Massachusetts P, 2006], 129). Farmer ties Jonson’s critique to the religious controversies of the 1630s, arguing that the play “satirizes the religious politics of coronto readers” (130); for Farmer, this previously under-appreciated religious sat- ire embedded in the play is the first “sufficient explanation for that dis- dain [ie, Jonson’s disdain toward vulgar readers] beyond social snobbery” (134). Additionally, it is also possible to read Jonson’s pointed attacks on vulgar readers as a recognition on his part of the apparent triumph of the news industry over his preferred media of the stage and book publication. As Farmer argues, “snobbery” is not a sufficient explanation for Jonson’s satires of the book trade. Yet, in Staple and, as I argue, in his prefatory work to Shakespeare’s folio, I find Jonson reacting to a literary culture that disregarded his bibliographic innovation, and a print, textual, and book culture that would be apparently unaffected by the innovations of his 1616 folio Workes. 27. Samuel Daniel, Musophilus 447–9, in Selected Poetry and a Defense of Rhyme, eds. Geoffrey G. Hiller and Peter L. Groves (Asheville, NC: Pegasus Press, 1998). 28. McKenzie, “‘The Staple of News’ and the Late Plays,” Making Meaning, 197. 29. Jonson, The Staple of News, ed. Anthony Parr (New York: St. Martin’s, 1988), rpt. 1999. 30. I do not mean that this is unique to folios: certainly octavo and quarto texts could also deny their role in the book trade as a means of distin- guishing themselves from pamphlets and news. My focus will be on the changing relationships between folio publication and the marketplace, but analyses of other formats would be a welcome addition to the study of early modern expressive forms. 31. Sidney, Defense of Poesy in Duncan-Jones, 241. 218 M Notes

32. For Daniel’s patent, see Joseph Loewenstein, “Printing and ‘The Multitudinous Presse’: The Contentious Texts of Jonson’s Masques,” Ben Jonson’s 1616 Folio, eds. Jennifer Brady and W. H. Herendeen (Newark: U of Delaware P, 1991). 33. Halasz, Marketplace, 184. 34. Margreta De Grazia, Shakespeare Verbatim: The Reproduction of Authenticity and the Apparatus of 1790 (Oxford: Clarendon, 1991), 33. 35. Jane Rickard notes that Jonson saw the book trade as “at best, a neces- sary evil,” and this reflects “his ambivalent attitude towards print culture.” I would limit Jonson’s ambivalence, at least in 1616, to the book trade rather than print, while agreeing that CHT “simply acknowledges that the book is a commodity and implores people to buy it” (“The ‘First’ Folio in context: the folio collections of Shakespeare, Jonson, and King James.” Shakespeare’s Book, eds. Richard Meek, Jane Rickard, and Richard Wilson [New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008], 224). 36. “We haue but collected them, and done an office to the dead, to procure his Orphans, Guardians’ (A2v). 37. “The ballad trade is the spectre that haunted a commercial playwright like Shakespeare, and which the 1623 folio was designed to exorcise” (“Making Meaning,”64). 38. Taylor, “Making Meaning,” 63, 68–9, 65. 39. The most important bibliographical analysis of the folio remains Charlton Hinman’s remarkable The Printing and Proof-Reading of the First Folio of Shakespeare, which was not initially designed to better understand the practices of the London book trade, but as “an investigation of the proof- reading of the First Folio” that would provide “full and precise informa- tion about the fortunes of Shakespeare’s plays in the printing house” for a proper old-spelling edition of Shakespeare’s work. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1963, I.6–7). That Hinman’s work continues to be revised is testimony to its significance. Other influential bibliographical and textual accounts of the folio include Roland B. McKerrow, Prolegomena for the Oxford Shakespeare (Oxford, 1939), which argues that “we must pay especial attention to the readings of the First Folio” even when a potentially more authoritative edition exists (70); this view still prevails in some editions of the folio that are intended to be used as prompt-books, notably the recent Applause First Folio Editions. More comprehensive studies include W. W. Greg, The Shakespeare First Folio (Oxford: Clarendon, 1955); Alice Walker, Textual Problems of the Shakespeare First Folio (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1953); Wells, Taylor et al, William Shakespeare: A Textual Companion (Oxford: Clarendon, 1987, rpt. New York: Norton 1997), pages 36–51. 40. Kastan, Shakespeare, 78. On Shakespeare and the literary marketplace, see also Emma Smith, “To Buy or Not to Buy”: Hamlet and Consumer Culture’, Shakespeare Studies 39 (2011), 188–208. 41. Information on Pavier’s edition may be found in Massai, Shakespeare and the Rise of the Editor 106–135, Murphy 36–41; Jowett Shakespeare and Text Notes M 219

69–72. Lukas Erne makes a case that the Pavier quartos are the “Stolne, and surreptitious copies” referenced in “Great Varietie,” see Literary Dramatist 255–8. Erne’s suggestion that the folio’s editors would need to “cry down” Pavier’s quartos “to praise their own edition” (256) reminds us that cheap quarto pamphlets and expensive folios competed for customers in the same marketplace. This further suggests continuity between Shakespeare’s folio and Philip Sidney’s 1598 Arcadia, which may also have been published to standardize the Sidney canon after a decade of bibliographic confusion and conflicting claims to title. 42. The facts surrounding the folio’s publication, the design of the book itself, and information on early owners may be most conveniently found in Owen Williams with Caryn Lazzuri (Washington, DC: Folger Institute, 2011), especially the essays by Steven Galbraith and Carter Hailey; Peter W. M. Blayney, The First Folio of Shakespeare; Anthony James West, “The Life of the First Folio in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries,” a helpful précis of his essential multivolume The First Folio of Shakespeare: A History of the Book project; Kastan, Shakespeare and the Book 50–178; Jowett, Shakespeare and Text 69–92. 43. Blayney, First Folio, 7–8. CHT was listed in a catalogue of books intended for publication between April and October 1622. 44. Heminge’s name is traditionally spelled “Heminges,” but, because both of his essays in the folio are attributed to “Heminge,” I spell his name that way throughout. His name in the “Names of the Principall Actors,” how- ever, is spelled “Hemmings.” 45. CHT, A2r–A2v. 46. Although less inclined to read these essays as in tension, see also David M. Bergeron in Textual Patronage in English Drama 1570–1640, which argues that the folio positions itself as product of patronage and commerce, an argument that valuably outlines the role of both systems in the circulation of the folio. 47. CHT, A3r, my emphasis. 48. Catiline, [London, 1611], A3r. Notably, the quarto’s dedicatee, William Earle of Penbrooke [sic], is imagined as Jonson’s ideal reader, see pp. 106–7. 49. CHT, πA2v. 50. Julie Stone Peters similarly suggests that “Great Variety of Readers” may “supplant” the more conventional dedication (Theater 29). 51. William St. Clair, The Reading Nation in the Romantic Period (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2004), 145–6. St. Clair argues that the cost of the folio would have prevented it from being read by a great variety of readers. Because of this necessarily limited audience, Hemming and Condell’s appeal for readers to buy the book is like to be read ironically. However, as St. Clair himself notes, the folio may have been sold in sections, which may have made it more affordable. 52. Contrast George Donaldson, who argues from an analysis of the prefa- tory writings that “The First Folio’s full audacity is to claim that it puts 220 M Notes

its readers directly in touch not only with [Shakespeare’s] hand, but also with Shakespeare’s mind” (“The First Folio: ‘My Shakespeare’/‘Our Shakespeare’: Whose Shakespeare?” Shakespeare’s Book, 204.) 53. See also Francis X. Connor, “Shakespeare’s Theatrical Folio,” Philological Quarterly 91 (2012), 228–31, which argues that CHT is designed to con- form to Shakespeare’s own idea of the theatrical book as incomplete with- out performance. 54. Patrick Cheney uses The Tempest to argue that “Shakespeare’s authorial representation brings theater decisively into play with printed poetry,” and thus it does not “verify Shakespeare’s standing as an arch-theatrical man eschewing print along with poetry” (Shakespeare’s Literary Authorship [Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2008], 4). In the folio, Hemming and Condell similarly recognize and attempt to negotiate the commercial fields of the- ater and print. 55. Roslyn Lander Knutson, Playing Companies and Commerce in Shakespeare’s Time (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2001), 49. 56. CHT, πB2. 57. For a concurring view, see Jane Richard, “‘First’ Folio,” 213. 58. Hugh Craig, “Shakespeare In Print,” Heat 4 (2002): 54–55. 59. Tessa Watt, Cheap Print and Popular Piety 1550–1640 (Cambridge: Cambridge UP 1993), 288. 60. Douglas Bruster, Drama and the Market in the Age of Shakespeare (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1992), 25–6. For a helpful summary of criti- cal narratives centered on authorship, playwriting, and the marketplace, see Michael Saenger, The Commodification of Textual Engagements in the English Renaissance (London: Ashgate, 2006), 28–33. 61. Lesser, “Playbooks,” The Oxford History of Popular Print Culture, vol. 1, ed. Joad Raymond (New York: Oxford UP, 2011), 527. 62. CHT, πA1v. 63. CHT, πA5r. 64. CHT, πA6r. 65. See George Donaldson, 199–200, although I do not find the significance he finds in Digges’ apparent subsequent refusal to call Shakespeare’s plays “works” in a 1640 poem prefacing Benson’s edition of Shakespeare’s poems. 66. Galbraith, “The Folger Shakespeare Library, ‘The First Folio, Illustrated,’” Foliomania!, 2. 67. The poem appears on πA4r-πA4v of CHT; citations are keyed to the text in Donaldson, Ben Jonson. 68. Donaldson, “The First Folio,” 189. 69. The Scornful Ladie (1616), A King and No King (1619), Philaster (1620, 1622) 70. I should commit thee surely with thy peeres, And tell, how farre thou didst our Lily out-shine, Or sporting Kid, or Marlowes mighty line. Notes M 221

And though thou hadst small Latine and lesse Greeke, From thence to honour thee, I would not seeke For names; but call forth thund’ring Aeschilus, Euripides, and Sophocles to us, Paccuuius, Accius, him of Cordoua [Seneca] dead, To life againe, to hear thy Buskin tread And shake a Stage. (28–37) 71. Lyly’s printed plays were Campaste (1584), Sappho and Phao (1584, 1591), Midas (1592), Gallathea (1592), Mother Bombie (1594), The Woman in the Moone (1597), Loues Metamorphosis (1601). Edmund Blount would publish a duodecimo collection, Six Court Comedies, in 1632. In contrast, his prose Euphues and its sequel appeared in at least 13 editions between 1579 and 1623. 72. Spanish Tragedy is attributed to Kyd in print in Thomas Heywood’s 1612 pamphlet Apology For Actors, but Kyd’s name does not appear on any early modern edition of the play. 73. Hero and Leander was his most reprinted work (five times between 1598 and 1622, all including George Chapman’s continuation). Tamburlaine, a once-popular play, had not been reprinted since 1605, and Massacre at Paris and Dido not since 1594. The Jew of Malta would not be printed until 1633, although it had been entered in the Stationers’ Register in 1594. 74. None of the work of Aeschylus, Euripides, Pacuvis, Accius, Aristophanes, or Plautus had appeared in English print in the seventeenth century. For Seneca, several English editions of single plays were published in the 1560s, and one collected English edition in 1581; English Latin-language editions had appeared in 1589 and 1613. Terence’s work had appeared in quarto editions of Terence in English (1598, 1607, 1614) and several Latin- language editions (1589, 1597, 1611, 1624) 75. Rickard notes that “anxiety about interpretation is evident . . . In the pref- aces often added to printed versions of plays. Such anxiety is reflected and crystallized in the Workes of James and Jonson, but is notably absent in Shakespeare’s Folio” (“‘First’ Folio,” 220). 76. On Staple of News, see Alan Farmer, “Play-reading,” esp. 135–39; Joseph Loewenstein, “The Staple of News: Textual Essay,” The Cambridge Editions of the Works of Ben Jonson Online. The histories of Jonson’s later folio pub- lications may also be found at the Cambridge site; John Creaser writes on the 1631 plays, Peter Happé on the 1640 collection. 77. Qtd. in Hereford & Simpson, Ben Jonson, xi. 426, ll.179–92 78. Jonson indeed seems to have hated Taylor: William Drummond records that Jonson thought “Taylor was sent along here to scorn him” (Conversations with Drummond in Donaldson, Ben Jonson, 608). 79. Alexandra Halasz, “Pamphlet Surplus: John Taylor and Subscription Publication.” Print, Manuscript, Performance, eds. Arthur F. Marotti and Michael D. Bristol (Columbus, OH: Ohio State UP, 2000), 93. 222 M Notes

80. Quoted from David Norbrook and H. R. Woudhuysen, eds. The Penguin Book of Renaissance Verse 1509–1659 (New York: Penguin, 1992), 441. 81. Frederick Waage, “John Taylor (1577–1654) and Jacobean Popular Culture.” Journal of Popular Culture 7 (1973), 592. 82. Bernard Capp, The World of John Taylor the Water-Poet (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 1, 4. 83. Halasz, “Pamphlet,” 99; Watt, Cheap Print 291–3. 84. Ibid., 90. 85. Arber iv.435, 7 September 1638. 86. Capp, “John Taylor.” Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Online Edition (Oxford: 2004). 87. Capp, The World of John Taylor the Water-Poet (Oxford: Clarendon, 1994), 30. 88. Citations refer to Taylor, All the Workes, James Boler, 1630. 89. Another telling example is Taylors Travels, which begins: Reader, that this in your way. A Pamphlet (Reader,) from the Press is hurld, That hath not many fellowes in the world: The manner’s common, though the matter’s shallow, And ‘tis all true, which makes it want a fellow. (3H4v) Suffice it to say, in folio this “Pamphlet” is less amenable to taking along your way. 90. This poem also appeared in an advertisement for the folio in Taylor’s 1631 The Complaint of Christmas. Its inclusion in this context suggests that Taylor assumed his pamphlet audience would be interested in the folio as well, and that the comprehensiveness of the folio—rather than any monumental or canonical claim about Taylor as an author—was its main selling point. 91. Michael Saenger, The Commodification of Textual Engagements in the English Renaissance, London: Ashgate, 2006, 62. 92. His playful dedications—some written as anagrams—construct a playful, rather than a respectful frame for the book. His satirical dedication “To the Most High, Most Mighty, and Most Ancient Producer, Seducer, and Abuser of Mankind, The WORLD” complains about his own lack of for- tune (“You neuer fauored me, and therefore I haue no reason to flatter you, nor will I flatter you or any man that shall or will doe me fauor” [A3v]) as it asks for favor: World, I haue two requests to thee, which if thou grant mee I will neuer thanke thee: the first is good cloathes, (for those beare a mon- strous sway) because I haue occasion to speake with great men, and without good cloathes (like a golden sheath to a leaden blade) there is no admittance. Secondly, that thou wilt keepe close from my Readers all preiudicate opinions, or let them be perswaded that this following Booke is not of my writing for opinion doth worke much in such cases.” (A3v) 93. Waage, “John Taylor,” 592. Notes M 223

94. John Lyly, Euphues: the Anatomy of Wit and Euphues and His England, ed. Leah Scragg (New York: Manchester University Press, 2003), 30. 95. Both poems had previously been published in quarto pamphlets, A common whore with all these graces grac’d: shee’s very honest, beautifull, and chaste, and An arrant thiefe, whom every man may trust in word and deed, exceeding true and just, both published by Henry Gosson in 1622. Citations refer to the versions in All the Workes. 96. According to Bowers’s edition, Beaumont and Fletcher are thought to have collaborated on The Captain, Love’s Pilgrimage, and The Noble Gentlemen. Beaumont may also have had a hand in The Coxcomb, Beggars’ Bush, and Love’s Cure, although these were likely revised by Massinger and others. Aston Cokain’s poem “To Mr. Humphrey Mosley, and Mr. Humphrey Robinson” notes the ambivalence of the folio’s attribution, ask- ing why they printed the book “In Beaumonts and in Fletchers name” when “Beaumont . . . writ in few,” [Philip] Massinger in other few,” with most “sole Issues of sweet Flethcers brain.” He asks the publishers to correct this “Ith’next impression” while printing their “old ones [plays] in one volume too” (Small Poems of Divers sorts, William Godbid, 1658, P5r). 97. On Moseley’s importance as a Royalist literary publisher, see Paulina Kewes, “‘Give me the sociable Pocket-books’: Humphrey Moseley’s Serial Publication of Octavo Play Collections.” Publishing History 38 (1995): 5–21; John Barnard, “London Publishing, 1640–1660: Crisis, Continuity, and Innovation,” Book History 4 (2001), 1–16. 98. Brooks, Playhouse, 185. 99. See especially “Playwrighting” in A New History of Early English Drama, eds. John D. Cox and David Scott Kastan, and Textual Intercourse (Cambridge, 1997), esp. 152–5. Like the Jonson and Shakespeare folios Comedies and Tragedies has been subject to numerous bibliographical studies, notably by R. C. Bald Bibliographic Studies in the Beaumont & Fletcher Folio of 1647. Oxford: Bibliographical Society, 1938); John Gerritsen, “The Printing of the Beaumont and Fletcher Folio of 1647,” The Library 5th Series (1949), 233–64; and Robert K. Turner “The Folio of 1647.” The Dramatic Works in the Beaumont and Fletcher Canon: Voume I. Fredson Bowers, general editor (Cambridge, 1966), pp. xxvii–xxxv; “The Printers and the Beaumont and Fletcher Folio of 1647: Section 1 (Thomas Warren’s).” Studies in Bibliography 27 (1974), 137–56; “The Printers and the Beaumont and Fletcher Folio of 1647, Section 2.” Studies in Bibliography 20 (1967), 35–59. Numerous articles have attempted to identify the number and identities of each of the folio’s printers. Gerritsen identifies the printers as Thomas Warren, Robert White, Susan Islip, Ruth Raworth, Edward Griffin, and at least one unidentified printer (234–5). 100. Citations from Beaumont and Fletcher, Comedies and Tragedies, Humferey Moseley and Humphrey Robinson, 1647. 101. Moseley’s publishing career demonstrates an insightful conception of how the authorial name operates within the printed literary marketplace. In his 224 M Notes

1646 edition of Sir John Sucking’s Fragmenta Aurea, he notes that “While Sucklins name is in the forehead of this Booke, these Poems can want no preparation” (The Works of Sir John Suckling: The Non-Dramatic Works, ed. Thomas Clayton [Oxford: Clarendon, 1971], 3. With Sucklin[g]’s name on the title page, the poems, Moseley argues, are complete; the authorial attribution alone attest to there authority as esteemed literary works. Similarly, he reiterates the commercial potential of the authorial name in his 1657 octavo of Thomas Middleton plays, in which he writes that he “was not a little confident but that his name would prove as great an Inducement for thee to Read, as me to Print them” (qtd. John Curtis Reed, “Humphrey Moseley, Publisher,” Oxford Bibliographical Society Proceeedings and Papers: Voulme II, Part II. Oxford: Bibliographical Society, 1928, 99). Here, Moseley puts himself in the customer’s position to suggest that Middleton’s name alone would induce someone to read the book. 102. Jeffrey Masten, Textual Intercourse: Collaboration, Authorship, and Sexualities in Renaissance Drama (Cambridge: 1997), 282. 103. As he notes (somewhat ironically, when read alongside the Beaumont & Fletcher folio) in his preface to the 1646 Sucking, “In this Age of Paper prostitutions, a man may buy the reputation of some Authors into the price of their Volume; but know, the Name that leadeth into this Elysium, is sacred to Art and Honor” (Works, ed. Clayton, 3). 104. Moseley uses a similar phrase in at least another preface, to Madeleine de Scudery’s 1654 The Continuation of Artamenes. After listing the volume’s pagination errors, he remarks: “I could have conceal’d this, but I chose to deal openly” (qtd. Reed 96). This suggests that he intended the phrase to illustrate his good and fair standing—to demonstrate the worth of his credit—to potential bookbuyers. 105. Moseley’s expressed concern for the typography appears valid; Robert Turner notes that “the volume in general . . . presents a remarkably uni- form appearance, testimony of the publisher’s or the editor’s assiduity” (Dramatic Works xxxv). However, despite Moseley’s claims that “here is not any thing Spurious or impos’d; I had the Origialls from such as received them from the Authours themselves; by those, and none other, I publish this edition,” and that the texts were “so complete and finish’d,” because the plays are “the perfect full Originals” (A4r), early editors of Beaumont and Fletcher discovered that the texts were, in fact, inaccu- rate. The unsigned preface to an early critical edition of the plays, the 1778 Dramatick Works of Beaumont and Fletcher, notes the problems with the folio’s texts: it was “obviously transcribed from the prompter’s books, commonly the most inaccurate and barbarous of all manuscripts, or made out piecemeal from the detached parts copied for the use of performers. Hence it happened, that the stage-direction has sometimes crept into the text, and the name of the actor is now and then sub- stituted for that of the character. The transcribers, knowing perhaps Notes M 225

no language perfectly, corrupted all languages; and vitiated the dia- logue with false Latin, false French, false Italian, and false Spanish” (xxx–xiv). 106. Moseley expresses a similar concern with his 1651 octavo of William Cartwright’s Comedies, Tragi-comedies, with other poems: “We trouble you with no Index, for already the Book is bigger than we meant it, although we chose this Volume and Character purposely to bring down it’s bulk” (qtd. In Reed 88). Moseley does not blame the poor index in the 1647 folio on its bulk. 107. Thomas Peyton’s prefatory poem discusses the book’s potential female readership at length. Peyton claims that if he “lay thy Volume, the Huge Tome of wit, / About in Ladies Closets,” it would improve their character (A3r). 108. Peters, Theater, 204.

Epilogue: Henry Herringman’s Restoration Folios 1. David Foxon, Pope and the Early Eighteenth-Century Book Trade, rev. and ed. James McLaverty (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991), 64. See also McKenzie, “Typography and Meaning: The Case of William Congreve,” in Making Meaning: “Printers of the Mind” and Other Essays. Eds. Peter D. McDonald and Michael F. Suarez, S. J. (Amherst, MA: U of Massachusetts P, 2002), 228, for an explanation of how the increase in the size of the sheet helped encourage a shift from large-format, single volumes toward multivolume, small-format editions. 2. The publication history of the 1640–1 “second folio” would certainly have not pleased Jonson. The folio is made of of seized sheets of the 1631 plays, with new materials added. Some copies from 1641 include a reprinted edition of The Devil Is an Ass and omit the other two plays, Bartholomew Fair ande of News. For the best account of the full horror, see William P. Williams, “Chetwin, Crooke, and the Jonson Folios,” Studies in Bibliograpy 30 (1977): 76–95; Peter Happé, “The 1640–41 Folio: Textual Essay,” The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson Online, 2012. 3. Fernando DeRojas, The Spanish Bawd (Robert Allot, 1631), A3v. 4. It is possible that these folio plays, which were mostly published at the onset of the Civil War and the closing of the theaters, were meant to be bound together to create an anthology of Royalist drama. 5. See Paulina Kewes, “Pocket-books” and Authorship and Appropriation (Oxford: Clarendon, 1998), 182–5. 6. For background on Ogilby, see Barnard, “London Publishing,” 10. David Vander Meulen, in private correspondence, notes that Ogilby’s subscrip- tion seems to have specifically been designed to fund the illustrations. It is possible, then, that the cultural cache of the book is attached to the illustrations rather than the format. 226 M Notes

7. On the success of this folio, and Tonson’s publishing list in general, see Keith Walker, “Jacob Tonson, Bookseller,” The American Scholar 61 (1992), 424–30; John Barnard, “Dryden, Tonson, and the Patrons of The Works of Virgil (1697),” John Dryden: Tercentenary Essays, eds. Paul Hammond and David Hopkins (Oxford: Clarendon, 2000.) 8. On subscription publishing as part of a “transition to a market-based lit- erature,” see James Raven, The Business of Books (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2007), 105–6. 9. For the sad tale of Urania and Wroth’s later career, see Paul Salzman, English Prose Fiction (Oxford, 2007), 73–90. 10. Randall Ingram, “First Words and Second Thoughts: Margaret Cavendish, Humphrey Moseley, and ‘the Book,’”Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 30 (2000), 109. 11. For example, in “Poetresses hasty Resolution,” Reason advises Cavendish not to publish because “the Printer [will] loose by your ill Poetry,” and her folio would be consigned to the “weight/Of uselesse Bookes.” In “Poetresses Petition,” she asks that her book “in silence lye” rather than meet “great repulse.” 12. For a summary of the reception of Cavendish’s folios, see Alexandra G. Bennet’s introduction to her edition of Bell in Campo & The Sociable Companions (Peterborough, Ontario: Broadview, 2002), 9–12. 13. Sir John Mennes, Musarum deliciae: or, The Muses Recration (Henry Herringman, 1655), [A]2r–[A]3r, [A]4r. 14. Mennes, Muses, E2r–E2v; all citations refer to this edition. 15. Bernard, “London Publishing,” 9. Herringman acquired much of Moseley’s list from his widow on 19 August, 1667, which included works by, among others, Cowley, John Donne, William Davenant, Thomas Carew, Richard Crashaw, John Suckling, Richard Fanshawe, and Ben Jonson. 16. For the best surveys of Herringman’s career, see William C. Miller, “Henry Herringman, Restoration Bookseller-Publisher,” Papers of the Bibliographical Society of America, 42 (1948), 292–306, and John Feather, who briefly but helpfully summarizes Herringman’s role as a literary pub- lisher who developed the concept of “back-list” (56–7). For the success and cultural prestige of the Blew Anchor, see Miller 301. For an interesting, and rare, description of a bookseller at work, see Pepys’s entry of August 10, 1667 for a record of Pepys’s trip to the Blew Anchor. 17. For a detailed reading of the portrait, and Marshall’s alterations from the original, see Albert Wertheim, “A New Light on the Dramatic Works of Thomas Killigrew,” Studies in Bibliography 24 (1971), 149–52. 18. For the political foundations of Philips’s literary coterie see in particular Catherine Gray, “Katherine Philips and the Post-Courtly Coterie,” English Literary Renaissance 32 (2002), 438ff, and Carol Barash, English Women’s Poetry, 1649–1714 (New York: Oxford UP), 1996, 55–100. 19. Philips, Poems (Henry Herringman, 1667), a2v. Notes M 227

20. Philips, Poems, a1r. 21. Philips, Poems, a2v. 22. Davenant, Works, (Henry Herringman, 1673), π2v. 23. Dryden’s “Gyant Race” line comes from his 1693 poem “To My Dear Friend Mr. Congreve,” his prologue to William Congreve’s Double Dealer (Works, vol. 4, eds. Vinton A. Dearing, A. B. Chambers, and William Front [Berkeley,: U of California P, 1974] 432–4). All citations from Dryden come from the California edition of his Works. 24. Essay of Dramatick Poesie, Works, vol. 17, eds. Samuel H. Monk and A. E. Wallace Maurer, 1972, 54–6. 25. John Denham originally designated Shakespeare, Jonson, and Fletcher a “triumvirate of wit” in his prefatory poem to the 1647 Beaumont and Fletcher folio (b1v). Dryden’s and Herringman’s decicions to group these playwrights together does not necessarily stem from Denham’s poem: Maximillian E. Nozak and George R. Guffery observe that the notion of such a triumvirate “was common enough” before Of Dramatick Poesie, although “there was little agreement on the details,” including the authors included in the grouping (Works of John Dryden, vol. 10. Plays: The Tempest, Tyrannick Love, An Evenings Love [Berkeley: U of California P], 1970, 347). 26. Works II.54–60. The poem’s narrator recalls that “Heywood and Shirley were but types of thee, / Thou last great prophet of tautology” (30); and that “ancient Decker propesi’d long since,/That in this Pile [of Sh―] should Reign a mighty Prince” (87–8). 27. Although Herringman was the primary publisher for these folios, he had partners for each: John Martyn and Richard Marriot for the Beaumont and Fletcher; Edward Brewster, Richard Chiswell, and Richard Bentley for Shakespeare; Brewster, Chiswell, Thomas Bassett, Matthew Wotton, and George Conyers for Jonson. 28. Beaumont and Fletcher, Fifty Comedies and Tragedies (Herringman, Martyn, and Marriot, 1679), A1r, italics reversed. 29. Tom Lockwood, “The Workes of Ben Jonson (1692): Textual Essay,” The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Ben Jonson Online, 2012. 30. In contrast, the Shakespeare fourth folio includes both of the prose pref- atory essays, retaining Heminge and Condell’s “whatever you do, buy.” Herringman also omits the problematic Fletcher frontispiece and Moseley’s justification for it. 31. Sonia Massi discusses the edition of Coriolanus in the fourth folio in Shakespeare and the Rise of the Editor, 180–9. See also Don-John Dugas, Marketing the Bard: Shakespeare in Performance and Print, 1660–1740 (Columbia: U of Missouri P, 2006), 109–21. Index

Alexander, Sir William see also Beaumont & Fletcher continuation of Arcadia, 58–9 Berkeley, William Monarchicke Tragedies, 97 The Lost Lady, 168 Amadis de Gaulia (Nicholas de Bill, John, 4, 114 Heberay), 3, 75, 196n.94 Bishop, George, 56–7, 97–8, 208n.16 architecture (as metaphor for book), 79, Blount, Edmund, 70, 133, 200n.27 82–92, 212n.46 Bodleian Library, 1–2, 90–2 see also Daniel, Samuel Bodley, Thomas, 1–2, 6–7, 90, 179n.8, The Arte of English Poesie, 26–8, 37, 53 179n.9, 181n.24, 181n.25 Astrea (Honore d’Urfe), 216n.12 Boler, James, 149, 222n.90 Book History, 9–13 Bacon, Francis, 32, 74 early modern versions of, 31–2, Barker, Christopher, 208n.16 71–9, 102 Barlowe, William, 201n.36 see also cheap print; folio; printing Barnfield, Richard, 93 press Bastard, Thomas, 202n.37 books Beaumont & Fletcher (Francis binding, 158 Beaumont and John Fletcher), and cultural preservation, 32, 90–2 12–13, 15, 158–65, 223n.96 definitions of, 66 Comedies and Tragedies (1647), and depreciation, 146–58 15–16, 122, 123–5, 159–65, and expressive form, 8–9 178, 223n.99, 225n.107 and format, 3–13, 89 authorship in, 159, 161–3 and integrity, 7–8, 28, 34–5, 70–1, excluded plays as selling point, 95–7, 103–6, 135, 144, 150–1, 164–5 225n.4 typesetting as selling point, 163–4 and marketplace, 12, 16–17, 107, see also Moseley, Humphrey 109–20, 121–65 Dramatick Works of Beaumont and and prices, 4, 43–4, 68–9, 162, 164, Fletcher (1778), 224n.105 192n.69, 213n.51 Fifty Comedies and Tragedies (1679), and relationship to theater, 17, 176–7 138–46, 147–8, 168, 220n.54, Beaumont, Francis, 105, 143–4, 221n.74 211n.40 and size, 6 Beaumont, Francis (the elder), 98 see also architecture; cheap print; folio 230 M Index

Boys, John Cutter of Coleman Street (1693 An Exposition of the festival epistles edition), 170 and gospels, 215n.10 The Foure Ages of England, 214n.1 branding and authorship, 112–13, Poems (1656), 121–3, 214n.2 158–61, 214n.5 Poems (1668), 173–5 Browne, William (Brianna’s Pastorals), 8 Crankanthorpe, Richard, 126 Busbie, John, 112 Crashaw, Richard, 171 Butter, Nathaniel, 131, 134 Creede, Thomas, 57

Camden, William (Britannia), 2 Daniel, Samuel, 1–2, 12, 32, 61–92, Cartwright, William 155, 177, 199n.20 Comedies, Tragi-Comedies, with other “A Funeral Poem Upon the Earle of poems, 225n.106 Deuonshire,” 81–2 Cavendish, Margaret, 169 and architecture, 82–92 Cawood, John, 62 and Ben Jonson, 61–2, 65–6, 107–9, Caxton, William, 7, 16–17, 182n.42 118–19 Chapman, George, 53 as book historian and theorist, 14, Monsieur D’Olive, 215n.9 71–92, 200n.33, 207n.7 translation of Homer, 3, 35 Certaine Small Workes (1607), Charlewood, John, 84–5 85–90 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 14, 25, 37, 143–4 Civil War, 14, 69, 72–9, 85, 86, 1532 Workes, 62 89–92, 207n.7 1598 Workes (‘Speght’s Chaucer’), 14, architecture in, 89–90 46, 48, 62, 63, 68, 69, 97–103, context of first edition, 75–6 120, 121 Daniel’s history of the printing dialogue with “Chaucer,” 101–2 press, 73–5 and error, 98–9, 100–2 The Complaynt of Rosamond, 84–5 manuscript publication, Defense of Rhyme, 70, 80–1 imperfections of, 100–3 Delia, 38, 67, 70, 83–5, 86, 118 prefatory material, 48, 99, 100–2 Delia (1592 editions), 84–5 1602 Workes, 64, 97, 208n.18 Epistle to the Countess of “Chaucers wordes unto his owne Bedford, 81 Scriuener,” 100–3 Epistle to Thomas Egerton, 83 Parliament of Fowles, 102 and error, 87–9, 205n.71 cheap print, 1–2, 8, 15, 76–8, 114–16, Historie of England (1612), 72, 132, 124, 128–33, 134, 140, 147–8, 200n.33 164–5, 214n.4, 217n.25 idea of book, 91–2 Churchyard, Thomas, 17 introduction to Montaigne’s Essays, compass, 73, 201n.36 77–9, 92 Condell, Henry, 133–9, 160, 174 technological advantage of Constable, Henry print, 78 Diana, 30 and manuscript publication, 67–8, Cotterell, Charles, 172 72, 78–9, 88, 203n.45 Cowley, Abraham, 121–4, 165, Musophilius, 14, 70, 76–9, 80, 85, 173, 177 91, 119, 131–2, 203n.45 Index M 231

defense of print, 77–8 Denham, John, 171, 227n.25 technological advantage of print, The Sophy, 168 76–7 Dering, Edward Panegyrike Congratulatory to His Workes, 65–6 Maiestie, 70–1 Digges, Leonard, 141–2 Poeticall Essayes (1599), 76, 79 Donne, John, 112, 171, 202n.37 publication history, 66–8, 75, 86–7, Drayton, Michael, 12, 128, 129, 199n.20, 200n.27, 202n.40 216n.15, 216n.21 relationship to readers, 79–82, The Battle of Agincourt, 165 87–90, 91–2 Poly-Olbion, 8, 35, 181n.29, “S.D. To His Booke, In the 216n.15 Dedicating thereof to the Dryden, John, 169, 176–7 Librarie in Oxford, erected by Essay of Dramatick Poesie, 176 Sir Thomas Bodley Knight,” 69, “MacFleknoe,” 176–7 90–3, 206n.73 “To William Congreve,” 176 and “work,” 90–1 DuBartas, Divine Weeks and Works “To the Reader” (1607), 67, 85–90, 1595 translation, 126 108, 123, 152, 204n.54 Joshua Sylvester translation, 5 architecture in, 86–9 Dyer, Edward, 64 error, 87–9 “To the right Honorable, the Earle, John Lady Mary, Countesse of Micro-Cosmographie, 215n.9 PEMBROOKE,” 79 Eisenstein, Elizabeth, 98–9 Tragedie of Cleopatra, 1, 2, 61, 79 Eldritch, Andrew, 19, 59 and “use,” 71, 79–82 Eliot’s Court Press, 84 and “work,” 71, 82–92 Elise, or Innocencie Guilty (Jean-Pierre Works (1601/2), 1, 10, 14, 61–2, Camus), 168 67–72, 79, 80, 89–92, 96, 97, Elizabeth I, 24, 26–7, 67–73, 94 103, 107, 109, 123, 200n.26 see also manuscripts; Sidney, Sir and Bodleian library, 90–3 Philip cost, 68–9 English Civil War, 168 lack of bibliographical integrity, error, 32–3, 88–9, 98–103, 151–2, 70–1, 90–1 172–3, 205n.71, 209n.21 paratext, lack of, 69–70 title, 61–6, 91 Faithorne, William, 172 See also Waterson, Simon Field, Nathaniel, 211n.40 Davenant, William, 175, 177 Field, Richard, 26, 33, 35, Siege of Rhodes, 170 189n.42 Works (1673), 175 Fitzgeffrey, Henry, 127, 133 Davies, John fixity, 31, 115 “A Scourge for Paper Persecutors,” Fletcher, John, 176–7, 211n.40 216n.15 see also Beaumont & Fletcher de Worde, Wynkyn, 16–17, 182n.42 folio Dekker, Thomas, 176 bibliographic definitions of, 4–5 The Wonderfulle Yeare, 95 and canon formation, 1–3, 175–7 232 M Index folio—Continued Workes, 63–4, 69 and dramatic publication, 133–46, Heywood, Thomas, 12, 93–7, 103, 104, 159, 168–9, 175–7, 179n.6, 176, 207n.7, 213n.50 183n.1 An Apologie For Actors, 93–4, expressive significance, 5–6, 8–13, 221n.72 94–5, 126–30, 133–4, 167–8, Heirarchie of the Blessed Angels, 165 209n.22, 215n.7, 217n.30 Pleasant Dialogues, 215n.10 literary allusions to, 5–6, 125–30, Troia Britanica, 93–5, 120, 130, 153–8 207n.7, 213n.50 literary folios defined, 16–21 and bibliographical integrity, 94–5 and marketplace, 12, 128–38, 174–5 on the invention of print, 207n.7 as memorial, 140–6, 172–7 see also “Microphilus” and patronage, 11–12, 135–8, Holinshed, Raphael (Chronicles), 182n.38, 185n.14, 219n.46 208n.16 scholarly classifications of, 9–11 Holland, Hugh, 105, 112, 141–2 single-play folios, 168 Homer subscription publication, 169 Alexander Pope translation, 167 see also books George Chapman translation, 3, 35, Foxe, John, 74, 202n.38 180n.13 Acts and Monuments, 2, 3, 17, 115 Hypnerotomachia, 84–5

Gamage, William, 10–12, 127 Islip, Adam, 97 Gascoigne, George, 29, 188n.25 Adventures of Master F.J., 51 Jaggard, Issac, 135 An Hundereth Sundrie Flowers, 29 Jaggard, William Whoole workes (1587), 17, 63–6, 69 Catalogue of Such English Books Godfray, Thomas, 62 (1618), 4 Greene, Robert, 42, 75 James I Greville, Fulke, 28, 52, 53–4 Workes (1616), 3 Griffin, Bartholomew, 93 Jeffries, Abel, 84 gunpowder, 73–4, 202n.37, 202n.42 Jewell, John (Workes), 64–5 Johns, Adrian, 71, 75 Hakluyt, Richard, 2, 3, 208n.16 Jonson, Ben, 14, 66, 96–120, 133, Harington, John, 25, 28, 31–6, 165 140–1, 143–7, 152, 207n.10, Orlando Furioso, 33–6, 48 210n.32 Harvey, Gabriel, 75 Bartholomew Fair, 119 Hawes, Stephen, 17, 210n.29 and bibliographic integrity, 103–20, The Pastimes of Pleasure, 101 212n.46 Hemming, John, 133–9, 160, 174 and book trade, 109–20, 212n.48, Henry I, 72, 78 212n.49, 218n.35 Henry V, 89–90, 91 Catiline, 106–7, 111, 137 Herringman, Henry, 16, 167–78, Epicoene, 119 226n.15, 226n.16 Epigrams, 111–14, 116–18, 120, Heywood (Heiwood), John 213n.55 Johan Johan, 17 “The New Crie,” 113–14, 155 Index M 233

“To My Booke,” 112–13 Killigrew, Henry “To My Booke-seller,” 112, Pallantus and Eudora, 168 116–17, 127, 155, 156, 177 Killigrew, Thomas, 177 “To Old-End Gatherer,” 117–18 Comedies and Tragedies (1664), “Epistle to Elizabeth Countesse of 171–2 Rutland,” 211n.43 King James Bible, 2 Every Man In His Humour, King’s Men, 133, 137, 138–9 118–20 see also Condell, Henry; Hemming, Every Man Out of His Humour, 114 John “Execration Upon Vulcan,” 146, 156 Knight, Jeffery Todd, 1, 8, 62, 71, 77, idea of book, 107–8 200n.31 and John Taylor, 146–7 Kyd, Thomas, 144–5, 221n.72 Newes From the New World, 130–1, 146 Langbaine, Gerard, 4 “On Playwright,” 214n.63 LeRoy, Loys (Louis), 32 Poetaster, 120 Ling, Nicholas, 23 and poetic composition, 108–9 Lownes, Matthew, 41, 58 and Samuel Daniel, 61–2, 65–6, Lyly, John, 17, 144, 154, 221n.71 107–9, 118–19 Sejanus, 66, 106 Mabbes, James, 142 and Shakespeare, 135, 138, 140–1, manuscript publication 142–6 and literary coteries, 23–31, 34–6, The Staple of News, 131, 146, 40, 45–6, 49–51, 53–5, 213n.58, 217n.25, 217n.26 67–8, 97–8 Timber, or Discoveries, 108–9, 120 and Queen Elizabeth’s court, “To the Memory of . . . William 23–8, 36 Shakespeare,” 142–5 and relationship to print, 28–36, Jonson’s “work” in, 143 34–6, 38–56, 72, print and theatrical memory in, 78–9, 98–103 144–5 and social textuality, 24–8, 32–3, 34, “To the Reader,” 140–1, 143 36, 64–5 and “work,” 106–9 and “stigma of print,” 31–2, 186n.19 Workes (1616), 1–2, 6, 61–2, 96–7, Mariott, Richard, 149, 172 103–20, 122, 123, 125, 128, Marlowe, Christopher, 145, 221n.73 130, 139, 140, 160, 162, Marotti, Arthur, 24–7, 31, 32, 66, 96 207n.10 Marprelate controversy, 75 bibliographic integrity of, 96, Massinger, Philip, 159 103–6 Matthewes, Augustine, p.182n.36 prefatory materials, 104–6 Maunsell, Andrew, 4 response to marketplace, 109–11, May, Thomas (Continuation of 119–20 Lucan), 149 title, 61–6, 107–8 Medwall, Henry Works (1640–1), 122, 167–8, Nature, 17 225n.2 Mentz, Steven, 28, 37 Works (1693), 176, 177 Meres, Francis, 23, 208n.17 234 M Index

“Microphilus” (Thomas Heywood?), Paradise of Daynty Deuises (Richard 5–8, 10 Edwards), 28–30 Middleton, Thomas, 168, 176, 223n.96 Parrot, Henry Milton, John, 16, 160 Cures for the Itch, 216n.15 Paradise Lost (1688), 169 Pavier, Thomas, 130, 135, 218n.41 Mirror for Magistrates, 17 Philips, Katherine, 177 Montemayor, Jorge de, 49, 56–7 Poems (1667), 172–3 see also Yong, Bartholomew Pitcher, John, 67–71, 90, 202n.39, More, Thomas 204n.54 Workes of Sir Thomas More (1557), Ponsonby, William, 39, 41–4, 61–2, 73, 32, 62–4, 69 200n.27 Moseley, Humphrey, 12, 121, 123, Pope, Alexander 124–5, 158–65, 168, 170, edition of Homer, 167 174, 175, 177, 178, 223n.101, Principal Navigations (Richard 224n.104, 224n.105, 225n.106 Hakluyt), 2, 3 anxiety about book trade, 160–1 printed poetry anthologies, 33–6 prefaces to Beaumont & Fletcher printing press, invention, 73–9, folio, 160–4 201n.36, 202n.37, 202n.38, Royalist publications, 170–1 202n.42, 207n.7 “The Stationer,” 160–1 Prynne, William see also Cowley, Abraham; Beaumont Histrio-Mastix, 126–7 & Fletcher Moxon, Joseph Rastell, John and William, 17 Mechanick Exercises for the Art of romance (literary genre), 2, 42, 112–13 Printing, 4–5 and folios, 56–7, 126, 168 The Muses Recreation (1655), 170 The Rogue (Mateo Aliman), 2, 126, 168 Royalist publication, 168, 169–77 Nashe, Thomas, 38–9, 55, 74, 75, 78 Nemesis, 72, 76, 79, 120 Sanford, Hugh (H.S.), 44–7 New Exchange, 171 Selden, John, 104–5, 116 Newton, Thomas, 31, 33, 38–9, 63, 98 Seneca, 17 Norton, Bonham, 97, 208n.16 The Workes both Morall and Natural, Norton, John, 64, 208n.16 65, 69 Serly, Sebastian, The Firste Booke of Ogilby, John, 169 Architecture, 87 Okes, Nicholas, 57 Shadwell, Thomas, 176 Olney, Henry, 51–2 Shakespeare, William, 12, 23, 93–4, Orrey, Earl of, 170, 173 125–6, 133–46, 152, 160, 164 Ovid, 3, 17 Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies George Sandys translation, 6 (1623, “the first folio”), 1–3, 6, 15, 23, 122, 123–5, 133–46, pamphlet publication, 75–6, 123 160, 218n.39 see also cheap print; Taylor, John patronage, 135–6 Pandora, 73–5, 103 prefatory materials, 134–46 Index M 235

relationship to book trade, 133–8 Sonnet 11, 158 relationship to theater, 138–46 Certaine Sonets, 48–50 Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies as coterie poet, 24–5, 36–8, 40, 46–7 (1632, “the second folio”), 168 Defense of Poesy, 34, 36–8, 41, 48, Comedies, Histories, and Tragedies 50–1, 67, 75, 97, 132, 208n.17 (1685, “the third folio”), 176, idea, 40, 191n.57 227n.30 Lady of May, 14, 47–56, 92 Love’s Labor’s Lost, 93, 126 context of work, 52, 195n.88 Lucrece, 93 Queen’s response, 53–5, 194n.85, The Passionate Pilgrim, 23, 195n.87 93–4, 103 relationship of manuscript and Sonnet 55, 141 print, 55 Venus and Adonis, 93 letter to Mary Sidney, 41 see also Condell, Henry; Hemming, and Queen Elizabeth, 67–73 John; Jonson, Ben wariness of print, 36–8, 55–6, Shirley, James, 161, 168, 176 190n.49 Shute, John, The First and Chief works in print (non-folio), 38–41, Groundes of Architecture, 87 43–4, 48 Sidney, Mary, Countess of Pembroke, Sidney Psalter (Philip and Mary Sidney), 23, 28, 32, 38–41, 60, 68 23, 31, 44–5, 57 as Philip Sidney’s editor, 40–1, 44–7, Sims, Valentine, 30 192n.73 Skelton, John, 17, 210n.29 Sidney, Sir Philip, 12, 13–14, 24–5, 27, social textuality and print, 24–5, 28–31, 31, 36–59, 68, 72, 123, 135, 34, 64–5, 73–8, 87–8 165, 169 see also manuscripts Arcadia, 1593, folio, 10, 14, 25, Songs and Sonnets, 13, 17, 29–31, 37, 43–7, 56, 87, 90 38, 50, 71, 72, 186n.19 continuation of Arcadia, 46, 48 relationship of manuscript coteries economics of publication, 43–4 and print, 29–30 prefatory materials, 44–7 see also Tottel, Richard Arcadia, 1598 folio, 25, 47–56, 69, Sparke, Michael, 149 90, 91, 97, 99 Speght, Thomas, 14, 25, 46, 97–103 Additions to folio, 47–51 see also Chaucer, Geoffrey as “collected works,” 48–9, 58–9 Spenser, Edmund, 8, 10, 17, 31, 53, 74, prefatory material, 48–9 78, 98, 143–4 Arcadia, seventeenth-century folios, Amoretti, 8, 42 58–9, 149, 168 Faerie Queene, 8 Arcadia quarto (1590), 28, 1611 folio, 193n.77 39–40, 42–4 Fouwre Hymns, 32–3 association with William The Shepherds Calendar, 37, 97, Ponsonby, 41–2 208n.17 Astrophel and Stella (1591), 28, 33, 1611 edition, 8 38–9, 67, 83, 85, 190n.54 Stansby, William, 65 Astrophel and Stella (1598), 48, 50–1 Stationers’ Company, 75 236 M Index

Stepneth, John, 213n.55 Thynne, William, 99, 100 Suckling, Sir John, 170, 223n.96, Tofte, Robert 224n.103 Laura (R.T., Gentleman), 30 Aglaura, 168, 170 translation of Nicholas de Montreaux, Sylvester, William (Du Bartas’ Divine 57, 197n.95 Weeks and Works), 5–8, 10 Tompson, George, 149 sammelband, 7, 92–3 Tonson, Jacob, 169 Tottel, Richard, 29–31, 38, 40, 42, 54, Tanselle, G. Thomas, 4 62, 74, 78 Taylor, John ‘The Water Poet,’ 3, see also Songs and Sonnets (1557) 12, 123, 146–58, 164, 177, “triumvirate of wit” (Shakespeare, 222n.92 Jonson, Fletcher), 176–7 “A Comparison Betweene a Thiefe Tuke, Samuel and a Booke,” 154, 157–8 The Adventures of Five Hours, 170 “A Comparison betwixt a Whore and Tyrell, James, 173 a Booke,” 154–7 A Memorial of all the English use, 71, 79–82, 88–92, 96, 107–8, 109, Monarchs, 149 155, 203n.50 All the Works, 15, 123–5, 146, 148–58, 222n.90, 222n.92 Virgil, 3 cheap print and, 150–1, 152, 154, Ogilby’s edition, 169 158 error and, 151–2 Waly, John, 62 impermanence and, 153–8 Waterson, Simon, 41, 58, 68–9, organization, lack of, 150–1 90, 75, 84–5, 200n.27, publication of, 148–50 202n.40 see also Boler, James Watson, Thomas, 29, 188n.25 and Ben Jonson, 146–7 Webbe, William and error, 151–2 A Discourse of English Poetry, “Funerall Elegie . . . Ben Jonson,” 185n.14 146–7 Whetstone, George, 38, 185n.14 and the Globe, 147–8 Whitney, Geffrey, 203n.50 and the impermanence of books, Wight, Thomas, 97, 208n.16 153–8 Wolfe, John, 189n.32 The Needles Excellency, 149 “work” as concept, 14, 71, 79–92, and pamphlet publication, 148–9, 107–9 150–1, 156, 158 “Works” as title, 2–3, 62, 58, 61–6, “Taylor’s Trauels,” 153–4, 222n.89 67–8, 96, 109, 193n.78, “The Sculler,” 147–8 193n.79 Wit and Mirth, 149 Wroth, Lady Mary Terence Urania, 57–8, 169, 197n.97 Comoediae (1497), 97 Terence In English, 149 Yong, Bartholomew (Diana), 56–7, The Rogue (Mateo Aliman), 3 208n.16