<div id="commentaryEntrycalender_283049812" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">complaynte</span></span>: Either the formal
                literary genre of Colin’s song (7-156) or its mode, or both. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_444049489" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">2</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">God Pan</span></span>: See <span class="commentaryI">Jan</span> 17n and <span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> 7n. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_341604864" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">2–3</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">he proportioneth his life to the foure seasons of the
                                yeare</span></span>: The major trope of Colin’s song, a reversal
                of the pathetic fallacy, attributing natural qualities to the human, the cycle of
                the seasons to the stages of the life-cycle. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_1544811653" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">6</span>
                <span class="commentaryI">blasinge</span> The alternate reading, ‘blastinge’, is also
                plausible, but E.K.'s gl 17 refers to ‘a blaſing [ſt]arre’. Moreover, other
                variants in outer forme M, most notably the correct designation of this as the
                ‘Ægloga Duodecima’ (as opposed to the ‘Ægloga Vndecima’ as it is designated in state
                1) confirm ‘blasinge’ as the corrected reading,
                although the alteration may not have entailed consultation of copy. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_698529870" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">10–11</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">last ende</span></span>: Has apocalyptic overtones.
                See 2 Esd 12:25 (an apocalyptic apocryphal book). The phrase also appears twice in
                Ecclus: at 2:3 (where it refers to death) and at 38:20 (where it is linked to the
                Last Judgment at 38:22). The apocalypse is the signature feature of the cycle of
                poems in <span class="commentaryI">Theatre </span>. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_569211551" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1–18</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">The gentle . . . Colinet</span></span>:
                Imitates the opening of Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 1-14,
                which in turn imitates the opening of Virgil, <span class="commentaryI">Eclogues</span> 1. Marot’s
                pastoral persona, Robin, sits in the shade of beech trees, reviewing the seasons of
                his life in order to persuade his sovereign of the need for patronage. Even though
                E.K. never mentions Marot in <span class="commentaryI">December</span>, Spenser revises <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> carefully (see headnote; Hoffman 1977:
                34-41; Prescott 1978: 10-13; Patterson 1987: 106-32), making three major changes: 1)
                Spenser ‘eliminates the request for a specific favor from Pan’ (the request of
                patronage); 2) he makes the poet-figure ‘Petrarchan’ in featuring Colin’s unrequited
                love for Rosalind; and 3) ‘While Robin serves Pan, Colin challenges him’: ‘In
                <span class="commentaryI">December</span>, Colin finally realizes that his refusal to be like Robin, i.e. his
                pride, is the direct and sole cause for all the suffering and losses he has endured’
                (Moore 1982: 108-10). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_516494557" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">satte beside a springe</span></span>: Colin’s
                preferred locale (see <span class="commentaryI">Apr</span> 35-6n), and it distinguishes him
                from both Virgil’s Tityrus and Marot’s Robin, who sit under the beech tree, ‘the
                tree of patronage’ (Brooks-Davies 1995; 187), no water in sight. The word ‘alone’ in
                line 5 draws attention to another distinguishing feature: where Tityrus occupies the
                pastoral locale in dialogue with Meliboeus, and Robin ends up receiving a reward
                from Pan, Colin sings his song to Pan in a state of solitude and alienation (cf. <span class="commentaryI">June</span> 72), echoing only himself, for Pan is silent. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_381424286" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">2–5</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">shadowe . . . shade</span></span>: The traditional
                site for the <span class="commentaryI">otium</span> or leisure required for the making of
                pastoral song; however, Spenser specifies the site because Colin sits in the shadow ‘a
                bushy brere’, associated with Rosalind (see note below on ‘brere’). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_239060131" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">2</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">brere</span></span>: The change from Virgil’s and
                Marot’s beech tree gestures to Colin’s love of Rosalind, a sweet love that causes
                pain. The briar joins the waterfall as a defining feature of Colin’s private
                pastoral landscape (see <span class="commentaryI">June</span> 7-8 and note, and <span class="commentaryI">June</span> 20). The briar also appears in the <span class="commentaryI">Februarie</span> Tale of the Oak and Briar, as well as at <span class="commentaryI">Maye</span> 10 as part of the landscape for youth celebrated by
                Palinode. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_621491144" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">4</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis">Tityrus</span>: The name of Virgil’s pastoral persona in the <span class="commentaryI">Eclogues</span>, which Spenser throughout the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span> transfers to Chaucer, as E.K. notes. Cf. Epistle 4-5nn. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_98104011" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">5</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">secreate</span></span>: The word occurs elsewhere
                in the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span> only at <span class="commentaryI">Sept</span> 156, but here it
                constitutes an important adjective for the Virgilian site of pastoral, ‘shade’ (L
                        <span class="commentaryI">umbra</span>), since it evokes Spenser’s advertisement for
                himself as a ‘secretary’, a keeper of secrets among powerful patrons (Rambuss 1993:
                29-61). See 17n. The secrecy also suggests that Colin has something to hide, and may
                gesture to his author’s own anonymity in the publication of the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span>. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_990090673" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">6</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Thus gan . . . mone</span></span>: Marking a
                distinction from Marot, whose Robin sings of love only incidentally. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_347902964" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">7–12</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">O soueraigne . . . ward</span></span>: Cf. Marot,
                        <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 6-14, which Spenser follows but
                changes slightly, from a political discourse of patronage and kingship (Pan as
                Francis I) to a scriptural language of care and salvation (Pan as Christ). To make
                this change, Spenser relies on a second Marot poem, <span class="commentaryI">La
                        Complaincte d’un Pastoureau Chrestien</span> (1549), which addresses Pan as
                Christ at length (28-40). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_704637360" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">7</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">O soueraigne</span> Pan</span>: Here, the Christian
                God, not (strictly) the pagan lover of Syrinx or the god of pastoral (Montrose 1979:
                58): if in <span class="commentaryI">Januarye</span> Colin sees Pan as the lover of Syrinx,
                here he presents Pan ‘sav[ing]’ the ‘flock’ from ‘mischiefe’ (9-10). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_975443277" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">8</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">takest keepe</span></span>: Echoes Chaucer, <span class="commentaryI">CT</span> Gen Pro 303. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_73276913" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">14–16</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Rude ditties . . . fancie feede</span></span>:
                Colin may repeat Cuddie’s unsuccessful ‘amateur’ art from <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> 13-15 (see note), but he also transposes that art to the Virgilian
                ‘laureate’ genre of pastoral. Similarly, the phrase ‘Rude ditties’ replaces
                ‘dolefull dittie’ from <span class="commentaryI">Jan</span> 16, troping pastoral as a
                Virgilian literary form. Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Apr</span> 29. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_493802215" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">14</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Oaten reede</span></span>: The pastoral pipe. Cf.
                        <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> 8. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_925255473" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">15</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">sonet</span></span>: At this time, the term could
                designate a short lyric poem. Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 12 for
                ‘chansonnettes’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_575624340" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">17–18</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Hearken awhile . . . carefull
                Colinet</span></span>: A resounding translation of Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 13-4: <span class="commentaryI">Escoute ung peu, de ton vert
                        cabinet, / Le chant rural du petit Robinet</span> (‘Then listen, from within
                your green cabinet, / To little Robinet’s rural song’; trans. Usher). Spenser
                translates almost exactly, changing only <span class="commentaryI">petit</span> to
                ‘carefull’: the alliteration with ‘Colin’ draws attention both to the poet’s mind
                (which is full of care) and his art (which is made with care). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_389584894" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">17</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">greene cabinet</span></span>: Spenser
                translates Marot’s <span class="commentaryI">vert cabinet</span> (<span class="commentaryI">Eglogue
                        au Roy</span> 13), which Robin later compares with the <span class="commentaryI">verte
                        maison</span> (green house) of the court (259). Spenser’s English phrase
                is so striking it ‘can be made to fit the <span class="commentaryI">locus amoenus</span> of
                Greek pastoral poetry’ (Rosenmeyer 1969: vii). The word ‘cabinet’ has three
                meanings: 1) ‘a rustic summertime bower’; 2) ‘a private chamber of the privileged,
                for reading, writing, or keeping one’s treasures’; and 3) ‘a private place for
                conducting business, especially of state’ (Patterson 1987: 107-8; see also 128-30).
                For Marot, the green cabinet is ‘a symbol both of intellectual privacy and of
                artistic liberty’ (Patterson 1987: 114). For Spenser, the cabinet is principally the
                private, secret cabinet of the English secretary, trained to keep secrets for the
                politically powerful, as Spenser was doing as secretary to John Young, Bishop of
                Rochester, while writing the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span> (Rambuss 1993: 29-61; see esp.
                48-9). Notably, the ‘greene cabinet’ is Pan’s, and Colin calls on the god to
                ‘Hearken’ to his ‘rurall song’ from the arboreal locus, suggesting a space in which
                poet and government official meet. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_61053978" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">18</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">rurall song</span></span>: In the 1586 edition,
                someone (we do not know who) changed ‘rurall song’ to ‘laurell song’, which in 1801
                Todd found to be evidence of Spenser’s status as a national or laureate poet (<span class="commentaryI">Var</span> 7: 419; see D. Cheney 1989: 146). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_874039189" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">19–138</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis">Derived from Marot’s <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> (see notes
                        below), Colin’s complaint compares the four stages of his life to the four
                        seasons of the year,</span> lines 19-54, to spring; lines 55-96, to
                summer; lines 97-126, to autumn; and lines 127-38, to winter. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_654912170" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">19–36</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Whilome in . . . lyfe</span></span>: Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 15-32. Colin follows Robin in several
                details: the swallow, the recklessness of youth, wolves, nut-gathering, and the
                dislodging of birds from nests. In this passage, Colin is ‘a threat to the peace of
                the green world’ (Berger 1988: 351). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_37270786" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">20–22</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Like</span>
                        <span class="commentaryI">Swallow. . . feare</span></span>: The swallow is the
                bird of spring, and often a symbol of lust, but here it is a more complex figure of
                impetuous youthful desire and daring energy, a veering from the swallow-like
                faithful soul in Ps 84.1-3. Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Mar</span> 11 and note; <span class="commentaryI">Nov</span> 138-42n. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_847352197" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">22</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">doubted</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> 41. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_345386179" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">23</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">I went the wastefull woodes and forest
                        wyde</span></span>: Colin’s entry into the forest as the principal
                pastime of his spring, ‘withouten dreade’ (24), has Orphic intimations, as he
                demonstrates an adolescent (and comical) version of controlling nature, represented
                metaphorically in his athletic prowess: gathering nuts, hunting a buck deer, scaling
                the oak tree to rob a raven of its nest, and knocking nuts out of a walnut tree. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_659065914" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">26</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">And gather . . . Christmas game</span></span>:
                Locates Colin’s springtime game of gathering nuts in the woods during the Christmas
                season, a logical impossibility, yet evidently justified because he sings his song
                in December, and signaling the wintery disaster of such heedless sport. The double
                time-scheme also shows Colin's metaphorical four seasons seeming to turn into a
                single calendar year, telescoping his life dramatically. Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Jan</span> 27-30, which anticipates the telescoping of Colin's life into 'my
                yeare'. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_202501021627" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">27</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Pricket</span></span>: A male deer in its second year with straight, 
                unbranched antlers. The pricket replaces Marot’s ‘exotic wolf’ at <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 27-8 (Renwick, Var 7: 420).
        </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_862486744" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">29–30</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">What . . . euer laste</span></span>: Colin’s
                youthful belief in his own immortality has no basis in Marot. Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Jan</span> 29-30. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_718611846" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">31–32</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">craggie Oke . . . Rauen of her neste</span></span>:
                The image of the oak tree with its raven’s nest is concrete and particular, and does
                not appear in Marot, who leaves the tree general and refers to pies and jays. The
                oak is the tree of epic, associated with imperial power (see <span class="commentaryI">Feb</span> 102-114n and <span class="commentaryI">Nov</span> 125n). Like the swallow, the
                raven has both classical and biblical associations. See Virgil <span class="commentaryI">Ecl</span> 9.14-6, where Moeris says to Lycidas, <span class="commentaryI">quod nisi
                        me quacumque novas incidere lites / ante sinistra cava monuisset ab ilice
                        cornix / nec tuus hic Moeris, nec viveret ipse Menalcas</span> (‘So, had not a
                raven on the left first warned me from the hollow oak to cut short, as best I might,
                this new dispute, neither your Moeris here nor Menalcas himself would be alive’).
                See also 1 Kings 17:6 where the Lord tells Elijah that ravens will care for him, as
                well as Luke 12:24 when Christ says, ‘Consider the ravens: for they nether sowe nor
                reape: which nether have store house nor barne, &amp; yet God fedeth them: how muche
                more are ye better than foules’. If for Virgil the raven is a bird of prophecy
                serving the shepherd-poet, in Scripture the raven is a sign of God’s providential
                care for the faithful. The image of the youthful Colin robbing the oak tree of its
                raven’s nest may signify the folly of premature epic ambitions. For direct allusion
                to those ambitions, see 43-8 and note. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_45107790" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">33–36</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Howe haue I wearied . . . libertee and
                        lyfe</span></span>: One of the most enigmatic of Colin’s utterances,
                combining two acts by Marot’s Robin, who used his bow to shoot down nuts from trees
                and climbed other trees to throw down the nests of jays and pies, so that his
                companions below could reap the benefits. Colin says that he climbed the oak to rob
                the raven of its nest (see 31-2n) and used ‘many a stroke’ to ‘wearie’ the ‘stately
                Walnut tree’, while down below ‘the rest’ (evidently, his companions) fell at
                ‘strife’ over the ‘nuts’ he dropped. Metaphors of politics and government intrude.
                First, the walnut tree is ‘stately’, a word that nominally means ‘tall’ and
                ‘dignified’ but also ‘of the state’ (see <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> 112n about the
                ‘stately stage’ of tragedy). The walnut, like the oak, is a tree of political power
                (see 33n below), and Colin’s wearying of it with his stroke suggests a naïve art
                addressing government, one that evidently causes civil ‘strife’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_30839820" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">34</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">stately Walnut tree</span></span>: A likely
                allusion to <span class="commentaryI">Nux</span> (‘The Walnut-Tree’), a poem attributed to
                Ovid in the Renaissance, one that ‘reads persuasively as an allegory of Ovid’s own
                fate’, exiled at the hands of Augustus Caesar (Pugh 2005: 31). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_277745609" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">37–42</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">And for . . . in the same</span></span>: Dilates on
                the topic of what makes a poet, with three possibilities identified: 1) the Muse
                ‘wrought’ Colin as a poet ‘from . . . birth’ (38), corresponding to the idea that a
                poet is born a poet; 2) Colin has listened ‘tomuch’ to his ‘peers’, who have praised
                him (39), corresponding to the idea that a poet is made by his reputation in
                society; and 3) Colin has been educated by ‘Wrenock’ (41), corresponding to the idea
                that a poet is made by learning. The three possibilities enlarge the famous question
                of whether a poet is born or made; see note in <span class="commentaryI">Nov</span> Arg on
                ‘no arte, but a divine gift’. Cf. Virgil, <span class="commentaryI">Ecl</span> 9.32-4<span class="commentaryI">: et me fecere poetam / Pierides, sunt et mihi carmina, me
                        quoque dicunt / vatem pastores; sed non ego credulus illis</span> (‘Me, too,
                the Pierian maids have made a poet; I, too, have songs; me also the shepherds call a
                bard, but I trust them not’). Cf. also Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span>
                40-8, who singles out education by his father, also a successful poet. Spenser
                changes the educator to ‘a shepherd with a bird’s name’ (Berger 1988: 380; see note
                on ‘Wrenock’ at 41). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_290322787" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">41</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis">Wrenock</span>: Likely Richard Mulcaster, Spenser’s headmaster at Merchant Taylor’s
                School. Mulcaster published two influential treatises on
                education, <span class="commentaryI">The Positions</span> (1581) and <span class="commentaryI">The
                        Elementarie</span> (1582; see Hadfield 2012: 29-38). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_815759780" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">42</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Made me by arte</span></span>: Resonant phrasing
                suggesting that Colin has been made by the art of poetry, as well as by the art of
                Wrenock. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_972604374" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">43–48</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Fro . . . ranne</span></span>: From Wrenock’s
                education, Colin acquires the confidence to compete with other shepherd-poets, and,
                if he can trust his friend Hobbinol’s ‘judgement’, he can even defeat Pan in a
                singing contest, on the merit of his ‘wiser’ song. Cf. <span class="commentaryI">June</span>
                57-64. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_550919384" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">43</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"> <span class="commentaryI">derring to</span></span> We retain the <span class="commentaryI">1579</span> reading, despite its conflict with E.K.’s lemma and
                with the gloss implied by E.K’s reference to an earlier gloss (at <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> gl 86). That the <span class="commentaryI">1579</span> reading is allowed
                to stand across the early quartos and the <span class="commentaryI">1611</span> folio argues
                less strongly for retaining the reading than does the sense of the eclogue itself:
                context makes it plain that Colin is daring to compete in the arts of Pan and the
                Muses; he is not competing in 'daring-do'. E.K.'s gloss misrepresents the
                eclogue.</div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_1277211" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">45</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis">Hobbinol</span>: See notes on <span class="commentaryI">Jan</span> 55, <span class="commentaryI">Apr</span> Arg. Hobbinol is a literary figure who tends to
                represent Spenser’s Cambridge friend, Harvey. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_705870633" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">46–48</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">To</span> Pan <span class="commentaryI">. . . after</span> Colin
                                <span class="commentaryI">ranne</span></span>: A complex depiction, in
                which Colin puts himself in the position of Apollo in his mythic singing contest
                with Pan: ‘Colin’s myth of vocational anxiety’ (Montrose 1979: 43). Specifically,
                the depiction suggests ‘the urge to abandon pastoral for higher genres’
                (Brooks-Davies 1995: 190); that urge is intimated in the tropes at 31-6 when Colin
                scales the oak and shoots at the walnut tree (see notes). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_817841035" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">52</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">lorne</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Sept</span> 57. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_847174700" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">53</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">gaue me checkmate</span></span>: Made a winning
                move against me—a metaphor from chess often used to signify trouble in love. Cf.
                Chaucer, <span class="commentaryI">BD</span> 618-69, especially 652-4: ‘At the ches with me
                she [Fortune] gan to pleye; / With hir false fraughtes dyvers / She staal on me and
                tok my fers [queen]’; Skelton, <span class="commentaryI">Why come ye nat to Courte?</span>
                585-9: ‘Set up a wretche on hye / In a trone triumphantlye, / Make him a great
                astate, / And he wyll play checke mate / With royall majeste’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_881130781" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">55–60</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Tho gan…</span>Venus <span class="commentaryI">seate</span></span>: ‘The emphasis is clearly on a heat much in excess
                of the moderate warmth that is beneficial to the “Aristotelian” melancholic: Venus
                (a hot planet according to some astrologers) is in Leo (a fire sign—hot, dry,
                barren, ruled by the Sun) in the “raging fyre” of summer, and a comet adds its
                scorching influence. This configuration promises nothing but trouble for Colin’
                (Richardson 1989: 116). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_202501021639" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">57</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Lyons house</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Julye</span> 21.
        </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_620487166" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">60</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">reigned</span></span>: Like ‘seate’, an
                astrological term: ‘Of a celestial object, esp. a planet, or a sign of the zodiac:
                to be in the most influential position; to exert a powerful or predominating
                influence’ (<span class="commentaryI">OED</span>). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_435369628" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">61–66</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Forth . . . stowre</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">June</span> 9-16. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_126746366" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">63–64</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">vnbridled . . . bitte</span></span>: Cf. Plato, <span class="commentaryI">Phaedrus</span>, 246a-b, 253c-254e, the famous description of
                the two charioteers, one bridling the passions and the other failing to do so. See
                        <span class="commentaryI">Maye</span> woodcut (and headnote) for the possible
                depiction of the Platonic horses. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_836017878" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">66</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">The Woodes . . . stowre</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Jan</span> 51. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_68846249" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">67–72</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Where I was . . . keepe</span></span>: E.K. singles
                this stanza out as a ‘fine description’. It records the change in Colin’s life via
                two metaphors. In the first, where once Colin sought the bee making its honeycomb,
                now he finds an ugly toad lording over its stool. The honeybee is a figure for civic
                order (Virgil, <span class="commentaryI">Aen</span> 1.430-6) but also for lyric poetry
                (Plato, <span class="commentaryI">Ion</span> 534A; Philostratus, <span class="commentaryI">Imagines</span> 2.12; cf. Frye 1963: 69; 
                Alpers 1972: 366-7; Hoffman 1977:
                42). In contrast, the toad is a figure of poison, which suggests the evil with which the 
                        <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span> opens, ‘Envie’ (To His Booke 5), arch-enemy of
                the poet, perhaps alluding topically to Alençon, whom Elizabeth called her Frog
                (Adler 1981; see <span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> 70n). In contrast, the owl is a
                traditional figure of ill-omen (Isa 34:15), and is such always for Spenser (see <span class="commentaryI">June</span> 24 and note). Todd may be right that ‘ynne’ is a
                ‘Cambridge phrase . . . by the students to signify the apartments which they
                inhabit’ (<span class="commentaryI">Var</span> 7: 423); but the word also puns on <span class="commentaryI">inwardness</span>, the ‘ghastlie’ condition of melancholy and
                envy that threatens the poet’s springtime poetry. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_102742337" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">70</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Paddocks</span></span>: See <span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> gl 75. John Guillim, <span class="commentaryI">Display of Heraldrie</span> (1611),
                writes, ‘<span class="commentaryI">Toades</span> and <span class="commentaryI">Frogs</span> doe
                communicate this naturall property, that when they sit, they hold their heads steady
                &amp; without motion: which stately action, <span class="commentaryI">Spencer</span> in his
                        <span class="commentaryI">Sheapheards Calender</span> calleth the <span class="commentaryI">Lording</span> of <span class="commentaryI">Frogs</span>’. Guillim also connects the
                bearing of frogs and toads to men of a ‘cholerik’ humor who have ‘an inbred poison’
                (150). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_960763768" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">73–90</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Then as the springe . . . worke eternall
                        sleepe</span></span>: Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span>
                107-23, which inventories various summertime activities. Marot’s inventory has more
                realism than Spenser’s, which, in turn, more formally evokes Colin’s maturation in
                literary art. If during the spring Colin wandered out of doors into the natural
                world, during the summer he spent his time pursuing industrious projects connected
                with architectural forms: the formal rooms of the honeycomb; the grievous inn kept
                by the owl; the sheepcotes; and the nightingale cages and bulrush baskets mentioned
                in the next stanza. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_202501021641" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">77</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">lighter timber cotes to frame</span></span>: Smaller strips of wood
                rather than the more solid blocks used for larger construction. Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 111-4. 
                Spenser uses the word ‘frame’ eight times in the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span>  (see, e.g., <span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> 115).
        </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_631173258" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">79–82</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">To make . . . hont?</span></span>: Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 118-22 (see individual notes below). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_278409418" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">79</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Nightingale</span></span>: The image of making
                cages for nightingales (not in Marot) continues the figuration of the poet framing
                poetic forms for the expression of his song, a sweet mournful poignancy; but the
                image also evokes the Philomela myth, and thus speaks to a series of violations
                against females (and the feminine) throughout Colin’s account (e.g., 28 and 32; see
                Berger 1988: 347-77). For the nightingale, see <span class="commentaryI">Feb</span> 123, <span class="commentaryI">Aug</span> 183-6, <span class="commentaryI">Nov</span> 25, 141, and
                notes, including Colin’s close association with the nightingale. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_979179376" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">80</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">And Baskets of bulrushes was my wont</span></span>:
                The basket is a traditional figure for the poem made as a work of art: see
                especially the crowning image of Virgil, <span class="commentaryI">Ecl</span> 10.71-2; but
                also Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 39, 42 (cf. Theocritus, <span class="commentaryI">Idylls</span> 1.52-3). None of these baskets contains flowers.
                For flowers in <span class="commentaryI">November</span> as a figure for poetry, see 109n. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_149148065" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">81</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">entrappe the</span>
                        <span class="commentaryI">fish in winding sale</span></span>: As E.K.’s gloss
                allows, the image of the net catching fish continues the ‘wodde’ metaphors for the
                making of verse. However, the image may be tempered by an allusion to Venus’
                metamorphosis into a fish as an emblem of lust (Ovid, <span class="commentaryI">Met</span>
                5.331). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_529007849" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">83–90</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">I learned . . . sleepe</span></span>: Colin’s
                learning here takes in the three major divisions of the universe: sky, ocean, and land
                (Hardie 1986: 50), and suggests knowledge of, respectively, cosmology, cartography,
                and topography. Spenser’s details nonetheless evoke traditional roles for the poet:
                as a cosmologist, he is able to read the signs of the zodiac (83-4; see Richardson
                1989); as a cartographer, he is able to chart the ocean (cf. Helgerson 1992:
                149-91); as a prophet, he is able to read the signs of birds (cf. A. Fletcher 1971);
                and as a physician, he is able to use herbs to heal the stricken (cf. P. Cheney
                1993: 135-6)—this last being specified in the next stanza with respect to the
                illness of eros that plagues Colin. Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au
                        Roy</span> 124-30: <span class="commentaryI">Je apprins les noms des quatre parts du
                        monde; / J’apprins les noms des ventz qui de là sortent, / Leurs qualitiez,
                        et quels temps ils apportent, / Dont les oyseaulx, saiges devins des champs,
                        / M’advertissoient par leurs vols et leurs chantz. / Je apprends aussi . . .
                        A éviter les dangereux herbages</span> (‘I learned the names of the four parts
                of the world. / I learned the names of the four corresponding winds, / Their
                qualities, and what weather each brings— / The birds, wise soothsayers of the
                fields, / Would tell me this through their flights and songs. / I also learned . . .
                / To avoid dangerous plants’; trans. Usher). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_229140607" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">85–94</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">And tryed . . . bleede</span></span>: Cf. Ovid, 
                        <span class="commentaryI">Met</span> 1.521-4, spoken by the god Apollo in his attempt to ravish Daphne: <span class="commentaryI">inventum medicina meum
                        est, opiferque per orbem / dicor, et herbarum subjecta potentia nobis. / ei
                        mihi, quod nullis amor est sanabilis herbis / nec prosunt domino, quae
                        prosunt omnibus, artes!</span> (‘The art of medicine is my discovery. I am
                called the Help-Bringer throughout the world, and all the potency of herbs is given
                unto me. Alas, that love is curable by no herbs, and the arts which heal all others
                cannot heal their lord!’) </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_940701245" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">93</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">ene</span></span>: Archaic. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_188900774" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">97–98</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Thus . . . rathe</span></span>: Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 199-200: <span class="commentaryI">Mais
                        maintenant que je suis en l’autonne / Ne sçay quell soing inusité
                        m’estonne</span> (‘But now that I am in my autumn, / I know not what new care
                now surprises me’; trans. Usher). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_359430858" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">101–102</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Of all . . . mowne</span></span>: Cf. Isa 5:6 and
                32:13 for briars and thorns as symbols of divine punishment for sin; Heb 6:7-8 for
                ‘the earth . . . which beareth thorns and briars, is reproved, and is nere unto
                cursing, whose end is to be burned’; Matt 13:5-7, for the seed cast on the ground
                amid thorns. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_1544811885" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">103</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">boughes with bloosmes</span></span> While
                many of the adjustments in <span class="commentaryI">1586 </span> are ingenious and persuasive, the reading at this
                juncture, ‘boughes and blooſmes’, is inferior. The further change of ‘blooſmes’ to
                ‘blo[ſſ]omes’ in <span class="commentaryI">1597</span> instances one of many moments in the
                early quartos in which a distinctive Spenserian lexical or orthographic choice is
                normalized. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_202503191521" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">109</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">The fragrant flowres</span></span>:  E.K.’s gloss 
                identifies the fragrant flowers as ‘sundry studies and laudable partes of learning’: 
                in other words, as figures for the sweet conceits in the poet’s learned work. The garden 
                metaphor evokes the <span class="commentaryI">locus amoenus</span> (place of pleasure) as a 
                <span class="commentaryI">locus poeticus</span> (place of poetry), but its healthy state is here 
                reserved for a young poet’s art, its decline for the art of the poet sabotaged by eros. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_217561053" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">113</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Ah who . . . spight</span></span>: A change from
                Colin’s complaint in <span class="commentaryI">Januarye</span> and <span class="commentaryI">June</span>, where Colin blames Rosalind. The change of heart begins in
                Colin’s <span class="commentaryI">August</span> sestina (see <span class="commentaryI">Aug</span>
                180-6n and <span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> 145-56n). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_67410315" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">114</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">spil</span></span>: Not just ‘waste’, but also
                ‘destroy, ruin’, including morally, and thus here (possibly) ‘deprive of chastity’
                        (<span class="commentaryI">OED</span>). Cf. Florimell being assaulted by the Fisher
                at <span class="commentaryI">FQ</span> III.viii.26.8-9: ‘Beastly he threwe her downe, ne
                car’d to spill / Her garments gay with scales of fish, that all did fill’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_965111536" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">114</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">should her girlond dight</span></span>: Love has
                specifically impeded Colin’s ambition to be a poet. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_680468563" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">116</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">shifting . . . foote</span></span>: Referring to
                the shepherds’ dance, with a pun on metric ‘foot’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_180950246" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">119–120</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">loser Lasse . . . One if I please</span></span>:
                Ambiguous, prompting questions about the identities of both the looser lass and the
                preferred ‘One’. The former may be Rosalind and the latter Hobbinol (Shore 1985:
                100); or, conversely, the lass may refer to a girl whom Colin addressed before he
                fell in love with Rosalind, and the ‘One’ may be Rosalind herself (Herford, <span class="commentaryI">Var</span> 7: 425; McCabe 1999: 573); or perhaps the lass is
                Rosalind and the ‘One’ both God and Colin (Maclean and Prescott 1993: 540). In any
                case, the lines notably represent Colin’s attitude toward Rosalind at the end of the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span>. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_119315923" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">121–122</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">And thus . . . care</span></span>: Cf. Virgil, <span class="commentaryI">Ecl</span> 5.36-7: <span class="commentaryI">grandia saepe quibus
                        mandavimus hordea sulcis, / infelix lolium, et steriles nascuntur
                        avenae</span> (‘Often in the furrows, to which we entrusted the big
                barley-grains, luckless darnel springs up and barren oat straws’). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_887222860" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">124</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Cockel</span></span>: Corncockle, harmful to wheat. Cf.
                Gerard, <span class="commentaryI">Herball</span> 1597:1086-7, ‘a common and hurtfull weede in
                our corne’ (i.e., wheat). Cf. Job 31:40: ‘Let thistles growe in stead of wheat,
                &amp; cokle in the stead of barly’; Isa 33:11, Ps 1:4, 35:5. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_19195190B" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">127–132</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">So now . . . scoure</span></span>: Cf. Marot,
                <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 223-4: <span class="commentaryI">D’autre
                        costé j’oy la bise arriver, / Qui en soufflant me prononce l’yver</span>
                (‘From elsewhere I hear the northern wind, / Which as it blows pronounces “winter”’;
                trans. Usher). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_608722559" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">132</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">coste</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">June</span> 15 and <span class="commentaryI">Julye</span> 42. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_125488185" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">134</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">pight</span></span>: Medievalism. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_523725348" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">135</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">My head . . . fynd</span></span>: Cf. Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span> 237-8: <span class="commentaryI">l’yver qui
                        s’appreste, / A commencé à neiger sur ma teste</span> (‘the arriving winter /
                Has started to freeze above my head’; trans. Usher). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_448262254" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">136</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">And by . . . wright</span></span>: A self-reflexive
                inscription of crow’s foot, or wrinkles at the edge of the eyes: ‘Spenser has
                written the year by giving it form and meaning; Colin has been written <span class="commentaryI">by</span> the year, his life rehearsing the script of the
                seasons and his body inscribed, finally, with images of winter’s death’ (D.L. Miller
                1979: 235). Cf. Chaucer, <span class="commentaryI">TC</span> 2.402-3: ‘So longe mote ye lyve,
                and alle proude, / Till crowes feet be growe under youre yë’. Sir John Davies, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue between Willy &amp; Wernocke</span> (1614), may glance
                at Spenser: ‘The crow-feet neere mine Eyne’ (134). On the crow as a traditional
                enemy of the poet, see <span class="commentaryI">Feb</span> 40n. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_471318142" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">139</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Now leaue ye shepheards boyes</span></span>:
                Evidently, a farewell to fellow shepherd-poets. The address is unusual, given
                Colin’s (and Spenser’s) penchant for addressing a female audience: e.g, ‘shepheards
                daughters’ at <span class="commentaryI">Apr</span> 127 and <span class="commentaryI">Nov</span> 77. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_34982024B" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">139</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">glee</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Feb</span> 224 and <span class="commentaryI">Maye</span> 282. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_703053093" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">140</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">My Muse . . . stounde</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> 49-50, where Piers tells Cuddie that ‘the stubborne
                stroke of stronger stounds’ may eventually slack ‘the tenor of thy [pastoral]
                string’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_465508797" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">141</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Here will I hang my pype vpon this
                        tree</span></span>: The climactic act of the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span>, a
                reworking of <span class="commentaryI">Jan</span> 72, where Colin breaks his pipe. Here,
                Colin imitates Robin in Marot, <span class="commentaryI">Eglogue au Roy</span>, who uses the
                image three times. The last two (209 and 245-7) cohere: in the fall of his life, Robin
                sees his bagpipe hung in a tree, which emphasizes his lack of poetic productivity,
                while at the end, in the winter, he tells Pan/Francis I that he will take the
                bagpipe down from the tree to honor the god/king with new songs. Yet in the first instance
                (158-61) Robin says he will honor his beloved by hanging his pipe in a tree as a
                challenge to poetic rivals. In <span class="commentaryI">Arcadia</span>, Sincero/Sannazaro
                uses the figure twice at the end (Nash, Chapter 10, p. 105; Epilogue, p. 152) to
                signal the poet’s Virgilian turn from pastoral to epic. In <span class="commentaryI">Shepheards Garland</span>, Drayton interprets Colin’s act as such a turn: ‘In
                thy sweete song so blessed may’st thou bee, / For learned <span class="commentaryI">Collin</span> laies his pipes to gage, / And is to fayrie gone a Pilgrimage’
                (3.13-5). As with Colin’s breaking of his pipe in <span class="commentaryI">Januarye</span>
                (see note), the climactic act here challenges interpretation (cf. Hamilton 1968: 35;
                Cullen 1970: 79; Montrose 1979: 61-2). Spenser will replay versions of the event in
                        <span class="commentaryI">FQ</span>: at I.x.60.6, where the hermit Contemplation
                prophesies that the Redcrosse Knight will shun earthly conquest by hanging up his
                shield; at II.xii.80.2, where the young knight Verdant has hung up his arms in a tree
                to sleep with the enchantress Acrasia in the Bower of Bliss; and at VI.v.37.8, where the
                old Hermit has hung up his arms to turn to the life of contemplation. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_307728193" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">145–156</span> Colin’s final address to those he cares for and values: his flock, his
                pastoral delights, Rosalind, the woods, and his friend Hobbinol. Colin’s final
                affection for Rosalind contrasts with his earlier call for revenge after she betrays
                him by taking up with Menalcus (<span class="commentaryI">June</span> 97-104), but the
                affection here is prepared for by Colin’s subsequent care for her ‘voyces silver
                sound’ (<span class="commentaryI">Aug</span> 181). The soft-sounding communal address closing
                the eclogue belies the nominal fiction Colin narrates: isolation, alienation,
                valediction. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_536305128B" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">148</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">breme</span></span>: Cf. <span class="commentaryI">Feb</span> 43. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_41253420B" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">151–154</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Adieu . . . were</span></span>: Cf.
                Theocritus, <span class="commentaryI">Idylls</span> 1.115-8. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_676493267" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">157</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Colins Embleme</span></span>: The emblem seems
                enigmatically to be missing. In 1715, Hughes speculated that the missing emblem read
                        <span class="commentaryI">Vivitur ingenio, caetera mortis erunt</span> (‘He lives on
                in his works, the rest was mortal’), from an epigram once attributed to Virgil,
                which coheres with E.K.’s gloss on the emblem. Yet the omission may be deliberate,
                since Colin’s emblem in <span class="commentaryI">November</span>, ‘<span class="commentaryI">La
                        mort ny mord</span>’ (‘death biteth not’, as E.K. translates it), was Marot’s
                well-recognized motto; it is appropriate for <span class="commentaryI">November</span>; and
                therefore it need not be repeated in <span class="commentaryI">December</span> (Renwick, <span class="commentaryI">Var</span> 7: 424). Cain proposes that ‘Colin has no emblem
                because with the eclogue’s last line he dies’ (Cain in Oram 1989: 202). See note on
                        ‘<span class="commentaryI">merce non mercede</span>’ below. Finally, the emblem may
                not be missing, but simply displaced. Colin’s emblem may be the two lines misquoted
                from Ovid and printed in <span class="commentaryI">1579</span> at the conclusion of E.K.’s
                gloss on the emblem; see <span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> gl 86-7n.</div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_23730644" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">4</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Pan . . . magistros</span></span>: From Virgil, 
                <span class="commentaryI">Ecl</span> 2.33: ‘Pan cares for the sheep and the shepherds of
                sheep’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_1544811977" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">11</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Derring doe</span></span>: On the mismatch of lemma and gloss to the eclogue,
                see <span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> 43n. E.K.'s 'aforesayd' refers the reader to <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> gl 86. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_777478357" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">9</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Qui . . . musicam</span></span>: From Terence, 
                <span class="commentaryI">Phormio</span>, prologue 17: ‘those who practice the dramatic art'.
                E.K.’s equation of music with poetry may be a commonplace, but it is also
                an important directive for reading metaphors of music throughout the <span class="commentaryI">Calender</span>. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_20172082" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">37</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Theocritus</span></span>: See <span class="commentaryI">Idylls</span> 7.52-3 and 13.255-6. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_394210327" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">45</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Liuie</span></span>: Livy, <span class="commentaryI">Ab
                        Urbe Condita</span> 9.36.3-4. In fact, E.K. cites Cicero, <span class="commentaryI">De Devinatione</span> 1.41.92. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_492793475" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">53</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Dea . . . herbis</span></span>: From Virgil, 
                <span class="commentaryI">Aen</span> 7.19: ‘with her potent herbs Circe, cruel goddess
                [turned men into beasts]’. </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_896697365" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">81–82</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Exegi . . . vorax</span></span>: Adapted from
                Horace, <span class="commentaryI">Odes</span> 3.30.1-3: <span class="commentaryI">Exegi monumentum
                        aere perennis / regalique situ pyramidum altius, / quod non imber edax, non
                        Aquilo impotens / posit diruere aut innumerabilis / annorum series et fuga
                        temporum</span> (‘I have finished a monument more lasting than bronze, more
                lofty than the regal structure of the pyramids, one which neither corroding rain nor
                ungovernable North Wind can ever destroy, nor the countless series of the years, nor
                the flight of time’). </div><div id="commentaryEntrycalender_458987138" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">86–87</span>
                <span class="commentaryEmphasis">[Embleme] <span class="commentaryI">Grande . . . vetustas</span></span>:
                Misquoted from Ovid, <span class="commentaryI">Met</span> 15.871-2: <span class="commentaryI">Iamque
                        opus exegi, quod nec Jove ira ignis nec poterit ferrum nec edax abolere
                        vetustas</span> (‘And now my work is done, which neither that wrath of Jove,
                nor fire, nor sword, nor the gnawing tooth of time shall ever be able to undo’). See
                Envoy 7-12n. These lines might well be the text of the ‘missing’ emblem to <span class="commentaryI">December</span>, mistakenly displaced here, where they stand
                between what seems to be framed as an introduction to the Envoy and the Envoy
                itself. Were the lines printed as the emblem, it would explain why E.K. does not
                specifically introduce them here, as he does the quotation from Horace above (<span class="commentaryI">Dec</span> gl
                78-80). It would also explain the comparison implied in E.K.’s characterization of
                Horace’s Odes as 'a work . . . of no so great weight and importaunce’: were these
                lines in the foregoing position of emblem, they would serve as an appropriate
                comparandum.</div>