<div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447674690" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.1</span><span class="commentaryEmphasis">1:</span> Spenser is translating Marot’s translation of Petrarch’s canzone 323, the so-called
   ‘Canzone of Visions’. The source canzone is constructed in twelve-line stanzas with a regular, if
   complex rhyme scheme, with a three-line <span class="commentaryI">tornata</span> at the conclusion;
   Marot’s translation preserves the organization of the poem in twelve-line units, but changes the
   rhyme scheme. As to format, all editions of the <span class="commentaryI">Theatre</span> follow the layout of illustrated
   manuscript editions of Marot’s translation from the 1560s, which display only one twelve-line
   unit per opening.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447674876" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.1</span><span class="commentaryEmphasis">1:</span> One of two of the epigrams that Spenser has translated in sonnet form, expanding
	 Marot’s twelve lines to fourteen.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447674913" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.1–1.3</span><span class="commentaryEmphasis">1.1-3:</span> Spenser’s syntax in these opening lines supports the general theme of the vain and
   transitory character of the world. No visionary ‘I’ organizes the lines; the first person leaves
   only traces—on <span class="commentaryI">my window</span> and in the two objects (<span class="commentaryI">me</span>) of <span class="commentaryI">hapned</span> (indirect) and <span class="commentaryI">grieved</span> (direct).
   Instead, Spenser gives us an absolute construction in the first line, the participle in which
   (<span class="commentaryI">being</span>) can be attached only to an ‘I’ that appears nowhere in the sentence, and is followed by
	  two impersonal constructions, [<span class="commentaryI">it</span>] <span class="commentaryI">hapned</span> and <span class="commentaryI">it grieveth</span>. Indeed, these opening lines are
   remarkable for a dreamlike ellipsis of specific subjects: if the visionary ‘I’ does not securely
   manifest its presence, the <span class="commentaryI">things</span> seen are not much more syntactically assertive, at least within
   this three-line introduction to the sequence. (<span class="commentaryI">Things</span> appears at first to be the subject of
	  <span class="commentaryI">hapned</span>, but is, in fact, the object of <span class="commentaryI">to see</span>.)</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675017" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.4</span><span class="commentaryEmphasis">1.4-8:</span> Van der Noot glosses this vision as an allegory for the death of Petrarch’s Laura,
   pursued by the dogs of destiny or <span class="commentaryI">appointed time</span> (‘by the houndes
   white and black he understode the daye and nyght’; <span class="commentaryI"/> 382-3).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675093" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.5</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">the greatest God</span></span>: the adjective can function as a superlative (‘the greatest of the
   Gods’) or as an absolute superlative; the phrase in the French source, <span class="commentaryI">souverain des Dieux</span> (B1v), cannot be understood as absolute.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675134" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.8–1.9</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">With deadly force so . . . pinchte</span></span>: <span class="commentaryI">So</span> can modify either <span class="commentaryI">deadly force</span> (<span class="commentaryI">i.e.</span> ‘with such deadly
    force’) or <span class="commentaryI">pinchte</span> in 9. Spenser’s sources -- <span class="commentaryI">mordean sì forte</span>
   (Petrarch) and <span class="commentaryI">mordoint si fort</span> (Marot) -- would authorize either
   construction.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675193" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.12</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">vntimely dide</span></span>: Possibly influenced by van der Noot’s interpretation of the 
    sonnet as an allegory of the depredations of time, and certainly responding to his own formulation two lines earlier, 
    ‘in shorte time, I spied’, Spenser has introduced this characterization of the death of the hind, 
    which is not to be found in Petrarch’s original or Marot’s translation.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675233" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">1.13</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis">1.13-14</span>: Spenser here introduces a temporal idea not present in his sources. Marot
   follows Petrarch closely, using a past tense to describe how the cruelty of death vanquished
    (<span class="commentaryI">vanquit</span>, B1v) beauty and how destiny makes the speaker sigh (<span class="commentaryI">souspirer me feit</span>); Spenser’s absolute construction (<span class="commentaryI">death vanquishing</span>)
   and his <span class="commentaryI">Oft makes me waile</span> suggests that the experience of the vision takes place in a
   grievous, perpetually renewed present.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675354" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">2.1</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis">2.1-6</span>: Again van der Noot will construe the vulnerable thing at the center of the vision
   as a figure for Laura: the ebony of the ship as her black brows, its ivory, her skin; the ship’s
   gold sails and silk tackle are said to stand both for her clothing and for her precious virtues;
   see <span class="commentaryI"/> 385-9.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675396" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">2.7</span> 
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">turmoyle</span></span>: The verb is often used to describe the effect of storms on the sea. The
   slightly unusual transfer to the air evokes an abnormal turbulence.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675432" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">2.12</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">riches</span></span>: probably to be construed as ‘wealth, richesse’ rather than as ‘valuable things’:
   with metrical stress falling on the second syllable, it is closely allied to the abstract term
    <span class="commentaryI">richesse</span> in Marot’s version.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675508" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">3.1</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis">3</span>: Of the <span class="commentaryI">Epigrams</span>, only the first and this third poem
   are sonnets. Making this formal shift, Spenser may simply be succumbing to the difficulty of
   rendering Marot’s douzaine in twelve English lines; he may also have adopted the sonnet form as
   an homage to Petrarch, widely felt to be the master of the form, for this particular poem takes
   up one of the central images of Petrarch’s <span class="commentaryI">Rime sparse</span>, the laurel
   tree. In this poem and elsewhere in Petrarch’s collection, the image of the flourishing laurel
   effects a congruence between the apparently divergent objects of Petrarch’s longing, the beloved
   Laura and the fame that might accrue to poetic achievement, an achievement that might be
   recognized by the award of a laurel crown.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675549" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">3.2</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">fresh and lusty</span></span>: Since the phrasing here is closer to Petrarch’s ‘<span class="commentaryI">giovenetto e schietto</span>’ than to Marot’s simple ‘<span class="commentaryI">jeune</span>’ (E2v),
   one might conclude that Spenser had consulted Petrarch’s original. But the lines immediately
   following track Marot in a firm departure from his Petrarchan source.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675598" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">3.3</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis">3.3-6</span>: The full stop after ‘melodie’ clarifies the syntax of a sentence left uncertain in
    <span class="commentaryI">Le Theatre</span>. Marot’s translation had departed from the logic of the
   Petrarchan original in which the speaker’s sense of the paradisiacal nature of the tree derives
   from its freshness and lustiness; in Marot’s poem and Spenser’s translation, the speaker
   derives this sense of the tree’s paradisiacal nature from the plenitude of birds in its branches. (When Spenser revised the translation for
    <span class="commentaryI">VP</span>, he worked to recover the fundamental logic of Petrarch’s
   lines.)</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675640" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">3.4</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">noble</span></span>: Spenser departs from his sources here, as he will at line 12 below, where he
   describes the tree as 
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">royall</span></span>. He may have been inspired to this
   diction by Roest’s translation of Van der Noot’s commentary on the previous poem, where Laura’s
   virtues are described as ‘noble and excellent’ (<span class="commentaryI"/> 390).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675681" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">3.6</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">melodie</span></span>: Van der Noot comments that the birds’ song represents Laura’s conversation and
   song (F4v).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675834" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">3.14</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">shadow</span></span>: The word manages to refer at once to the tree, its shadow, and the visionary
  experience at the moment of their combined passing-away.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447675921" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">4.4</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">homely . . . ruder</span></span>: The adjectives insist on a rusticity not emphasized in Petrarch or
   Marot. For a similar non-comparative use of ‘ruder’, see the ‘ruder clowne’ of <span class="commentaryI">FQ</span> VI.x.7.4, and cf. the ‘viler clowne’ of <span class="commentaryI">Oct</span> 97.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676006" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">4.6–4.7</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">That sweetely . . . fall.</span></span>: Spenser’s subsequent poetry recurs frequently to this accord
   of song and the sound of falling water, which he came to treat as the sign of a poetry that,
   while rural, could also claim, perhaps by virtue of its harmony with the natural order, the right
   to speak of higher things. In <span class="commentaryI">April</span>, Colin is said to have made his
   song in praise of <span class="commentaryI">Elisa, Queene of shepheardes</span> while lying beside a
	  spring and to have <span class="commentaryI">tuned it unto the Waters fall</span> (35-6; and see also the lament in <span class="commentaryI">June</span>, 155-6). The laments of <span class="commentaryI">The Teares of the
    Muses</span> are similarly <span class="commentaryI">powred forth . . . Beside the silver Springs of Helicone</span> (4-5) and
   there the Muses teach <span class="commentaryI">the trembling streames . . . to beare . . . A Bases part</span> (25-8). Again, in
    <span class="commentaryI">FQ</span>, <span class="commentaryI">the Nymphes and Faeries</span> at the
	  base of Mt. Acidale are found sitting by the banks of <span class="commentaryI">a gentle flud</span> . . . <span class="commentaryI">And to the waters fall
   tuning their accents fit</span> (VI.x.7.1 and 9). Noting the shift in this line, possibly inadvertent,
   from the pentameter norm of the rest of the <span class="commentaryI">Epigrams</span> to an
   alexandrine, John Hollander remarks (1988, 173-6) on the important congruence of this ‘scene’ of
   acoustic concord with Spenser’s first use of that metrical extension which would be one of the
   distinguishing features of the <span class="commentaryI">FQ</span> stanza. For more on
   this attunement, see P. Cheney, 1997, 72-3.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676079" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">4.9</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">chiefe</span></span>: As in Marot, no lesser delights are explicitly named, although Spenser’s line
   suggests that the pleasure of <span class="commentaryI">the sight</span> may exceed the pleasure of the <span class="commentaryI">accorde</span> of voice and
   waters. In Petrarch there is no competition between sight and sound, instead, they collaborate to
   produce a sweetness that by its very increase seems to trigger the onset of loss—<span class="commentaryI">quando</span> / <span class="commentaryI">più dolcezza prendea</span> . . . / . . .
    <span class="commentaryI">aprir vidi uno speco</span> (‘when / I took more sweetness . . . / . . . I
   saw a chasm open’).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676168" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">5.1</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Phœnix</span></span>: In <span class="commentaryI">Epigrams</span> 5.7, Martial compares the longevity
   and resilience of Rome to that of the phoenix. Petrarch emphasizes the self-destruction of the
   phoenix, suppressing its capacity for self-renewal. On the singularity of the Phoenix, see above, <span class="commentaryI">Epistle</span> 29.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676283" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">5.5</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Vntill</span></span>: The speaker relinquishes the thought that the bird is <span class="commentaryI">some heauenly wight</span> upon
	  witnessing its arrival at the scenes of prior desolation described in the previous two <span class="commentaryI">Epigrams</span>. This changing-of-mind is somewhat more explicit in Marot (<span class="commentaryI">don pensay . . . jusque à tant / Qu’il vint à</span>; ‘wherefore I thought . . .
	  until / it arrived at’) and Petrarch (<span class="commentaryI">prima pensai, fin ch’ . . .
    giunse</span>; ‘at first I thought, until . . . it reached’).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676333" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">5.7</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">we
    see</span></span>: The characterization of the transitory things as transitory <span class="commentaryI">visibilia</span> is Spenser’s own invention, and it throws emphasis on the importance of
   viewing to the sensation of loss. The detail is especially fitting since, in this poem, the
   phoenix is at once the object of the speaker’s gaze and, itself, a gazer, looking on the same
   <span class="commentaryI">broken tree</span> and <span class="commentaryI">spring late devoured</span> that the speaker earlier viewed. Whereas the speaker of
   the prior poems responds to the vision of loss with grief, the Phoenix responds with
   <span class="commentaryI">disdaine</span>.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676379" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">5.11</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">dide</span></span>: In Spenser’s sources, the Phoenix disappears.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676420" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">5.12</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">pitie and loue</span></span>: The Phoenix’s death excites emotions not evinced by the prior
   visions.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676491" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">6.1</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">At
    last</span></span>: Perhaps suggesting that the appearance of a Lady in this sixth and final vision has
   been elicited by the new depth and generosity of the speaker’s response to the death of the
   Phoenix in the fifth vision, his <span class="commentaryI">pitie and love</span>. In both poems, the speaker is said to respond
   with burning.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676529" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">6.2</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">thinking</span></span>: Whereas Marot’s <span class="commentaryI">songeant</span> suggests some continuity
   between the vision of the Lady and the ruminative experience that makes the speaker <span class="commentaryI">burne and
     quake</span>, Spenser’s <span class="commentaryI">thinking</span> recurs to Petrarch’s phrasing—<span class="commentaryI">che mai nol
       penso ch’i’non arda et treme</span> (‘of which I never
    think without burning and trembling’)—which marks a sharper rift between the vision and the
   emotional reflection on that vision. The phrasing here and the choice of <span class="commentaryI">proudely</span> at line 4,
	  which recovers the force of Petrarch’s <span class="commentaryI">superba</span> (‘proud,’ which Marot has
	  nearly lost in his <span class="commentaryI">contre amour rebelle</span>, ‘rebel against
	  Love’), suggest that Spenser has
   here consulted Marot’s Petrarchan source.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676589" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">6.5</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">White seemed hir robes</span></span>: Whereas in Petrarch, the weaving creates the effect of snow and
   gold combined, in Spenser’s version snow and gold seem to be the very constituents of the fabric.
   Spenser’s slight invention here is perhaps inspired by the dense verbal texture in the French
   version, for Marot describes the fabric as made with such art that gold and snow <span class="commentaryI">ensemble</span> / <span class="commentaryI">sembloient meslez</span> (‘seem
   commingled together’; B6v).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676670" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">6.8</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis">6.8</span>: Recalling the death of Eurydice, stung by a snake on the occasion of her marriage (Virgil, 
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">Georgics</span></span>, 4.457-9; Ovid, <span class="commentaryI">Met</span> 10.30).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676716" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">6.11</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">in
	  earth</span></span>: Although the Lady of this douzaine mounts up to joy, <span class="commentaryI">in</span> sustains the idea of
   Eurydicean entombment, an idea reinforced by the phrasing of Marot’s envoy, which concludes with
   a longing for a conspicuously subterranean death (<span class="commentaryI">soubz la terre
    gesir</span>).</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676795" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">7.3</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">yelde . . . a sweete request</span></span>: Spenser seems to be straining to secure a rhyme for
	  <span class="commentaryI">rest</span>; the phrase very imperfectly renders Marot’s <span class="commentaryI">donne ung doulx
    plaisir</span> (‘gives a sweet pleasure’) and Petrarch’s <span class="commentaryI">àn fatto un dolce
    . . . desio</span> (‘has produced a sweet desire’). The substantial revision of the envoy for
    <span class="commentaryI">Bellay</span> may well stem from Spenser’s dissatisfaction with this
   particular line.</div><div id="commentaryEntrytheatre_1316026447676844" class="commentaryEntry commentary" xmlns:tei="http://www.tei-c.org/ns/1.0"><span class="commentary_line_numbers">7.4</span>
    <span class="commentaryEmphasis"><span class="commentaryI">within the earth</span></span>: See note to 6.11 above.</div>