MADAM, wthouten many words,
Once, I am sure, ye will or
no.
And if ye will, then leave
your bourds
And use your wit and shew it
so,
And with a beck ye shall me
call.
And if one that burneth always
Ye have any pit at all
Answer him fair with yea or
nay.
If it be yea, I shall be fain.
If it be nay, friends as
before.
Ye shall another man obtain,
And I mine own, and yours no
more.
(Pub. 1815, Jones)
I
began my bibliographic research by examining the Wyatt selection found in the
1992 edition of The New Oxford Book of
Sixteenth Century Verse, edited by Emery Jones. I chose Wyatt partly for
his remoteness in time and also because he has been called the first of the
‘English Petrarchans’. His place at the beginning of the renaissance of English
literature was something I hoped to learn about. His appeal, for me, also came
from his position as a diplomat in the court of Henry VIII and the fact that he
was once the lover of Anne Boleyn. He died when he was thirty nine and I am
thirty nine. I chose the specific Wyatt poem that Jones entitles: “Madam,
withouten many words” (Jones, 74) because it was short, its syntax simple, and
I felt I could readily make comparisons between it and any additional versions
I uncovered.
I
have outlined my initial entry into the world of bibliography and editing
because I wish to make it clear that my approach to Wyatt was relatively naïve.
I came to him with little knowledge of his background and even less of his
work. I ‘picked’ him for reasons that might be similar to the reasons most
readers pick from anthologies: because he was the same age as I am now when he
died or because of his lover or the glamour of his life at court or because of
his place in the world of literature. I came to him, then, as a typical reader
would, with trust and confidence that in a modern edited anthology I would find
the words of Wyatt as he wrote them. He would ‘speak’ to me from across
centuries because I live in a world of technological wonders, where men and
machines can be retrieved from the surface of the moon and television pictures
can be transmitted back from another planet. Surely, in such an age, the
challenge of retrieving mere words written on a page—even words written
centuries earlier—should pale by comparison. I assumed that my research would
provide me with a sense of continuity from the past to the present. What I
found instead was that my research began and ended with editors.
In
his Editorial Principles to the
Oxford edition, Jones acknowledges that he uses “recent scholarly editions.”
(p. xxxviii) for his source materials, and most of his anthology is based on
contemporary research. For the Wyatt poem I am reviewing, Jones used a single
source: Sir Thomas Wyatt The Complete
Poems, edited by R.A. Rebholtz, a 1978 publication. (He used a second work
by H.A. Mason for emendations made to one other Wyatt poem.)
In
examining Rebholtz’s edition, I found in his notes detailing his source materials a statement of
editorial principles and a statement in which he says that his “witnesses”
(Rebholtz, 13) are listed in order of their importance, the first witness being
the one he used as the copy text for his edition. (I will discuss his editorial
principles in more detail later.) For this poem numbered XCVI in his edition, Rebholtz cites three sources: The Egerton MS; the Blange MS and Tottel’s
Miscellany, edited by H.E. Rollins, 1965. The two manuscripts (MS) date
circa 1537. Of these three source materials, I uncovered the following: Our
University, here, has a copy (2 vols.) of the 1965 revised edition of Rollin’s
1928 edition of Tottel’s that Rebholtz
cites. However, it is, in fact, a 1966 second
printing of the revised 1965 edition. Of the two MSS that Rebholtz lists as
his sources, the STC has neither on file.
[The
Egerton MS is listed in the National
Union Catalogue as being on file at the British Museum (Egerton MS 2711). Rebholtz’s notes state that the Blage MS is the property of Trinity
College, Dublin (MS D.2.7, parts 2 and 3).
As well, there is no microfilm of the original 1537 edition of Tottel’s listed in the STC]
My
initial research had dead-ended. I had only a second printing of one source
material and no MSS microfilm to examine. I had to either find another poem (or
poet) whose source materials had more ‘depth’ to them, or else I could examine
Wyatt’s poem from a variety of ‘angles’ and using a number of editions. I chose
the latter course of action.
I
returned to Jones’ primary source, Rebholtz, and reviewed his notes. He provided
several additional names of researchers and editors, including a 1969 edition
by Muir and Thompson (Collected Poems of
Sir Thomas Wyatt). From Muir and Thompson, Rebholtz had included in his
notes a possible sixteenth century source that Wyatt may have used for the
basis of his poem—an Italian madrigal by Dragonetto Bonifacio, published in
1535.
I
thought such information about possible source materials was interesting and,
as well, I decided to research the other editors mentioned. I ordered Muir and
Thompson’s Collected Poems from the
Inter-Library Loan desk and awaited my copy eagerly. Meanwhile, I located editions
by Nott and Foxwell and began to examine them. At the same time, however, I
also noted, somewhat ironically, that Wyatt at the MS level remained distant
from me still. And yet, while I was ‘seeing’ him through a number of different
editorial perspectives, I nevertheless felt confident that I was getting a
clear picture of him, however remote, for I trusted the knowledge and authority
of my editors.
During
this period, I read a brief biography of Wyatt by Sergio Baldi. From it, I got
a portrait of an active courtier, a man of passion, yet an often melancholy
man—one who aspired to a career in diplomacy but who was vulnerable to the
whims of his sovereign. Baldi’s discussion of French and Italian influences in
Wyatt’s work reminded me of the internationalism of Renaissance literary
movements. His discussion of the influence that Petrarch had on Wyatt, and of
Serifino’s pastorals and French madrigal forms, also reminded me that Wyatt was
an educated, highly intelligent man, fluent in several languages, who had a
literary career that was nevertheless secondary to his political one. As with
most biographies, however, the sense of a neat package designed by hindsight
left me unsatisfied, and I returned to my editions.
Up
to this point, I had examined four different editions and found considerable
discrepancies in punctuation, spelling and some verbal variants between, for
example, Rebholtz’s 1978 edition and the Rollin’s 1966 Tottel’s. In contrast, I had noted only three variants between
Rollins and the 1870 Tottel’s, edited
by Edward Arber. Since, however, Rebholtz cited neither Tottel editions as the copy text source for his edition I didn’t
yet form any opinion on such variants. I also noted that my original Jones’
edition, with which I had begun my research, varied only slightly from Rebholtz.
(Jones, of course, had cited Rebholtz’s edition as his copy text source.) Jones varied from Rebholtz by the addition
of punctuation and by including a title and publication date with his entry.
His spelling, verse structure, capitalization and word choice were otherwise
identical to Rebholtz. Again, the variants I did see I considered to be minor and decided to wait before forming
an opinion on their significance. I should add here that I feel my reluctance
to form an opinion on the variants I had noticed is a reaction that would
probably be a typical one for most modern readers. The ‘gap’ between seeing
variants and acting to understand their significance comes from the hidden
assumption that most readers and authorities make, namely that authorities must
know because they are authorities—a tautology that allows for the suspension of
critical judgement on the part of the reader. I was in that ‘gap’ and didn’t
know it.
With
Foxwell’s edition, I came across a discrepancy that interested me. In her 1911
edition, she claims that Wyatt’s
Miscellaneous Poem “9” (Foxwell, vol.1, 83) which is Jones’ “Madam withouten many words” had been
written in imitation of a French douzaine by Mellin de S. Gelais. She provides
the French work in her notes and suggests that Wyatt had used the poem from
memory, rather than by direct translation (vol. 2, 87). I had previously read
in Rebholtz that Muir and Thompson suggested an Italian source for Wyatt’s
poem. I looked forward to their edition’s arrival so I could compare their
findings with Foxwell’s. Meanwhile, I examined the Wilson catalogue to see if
there were additional research works that might prove fruitful, and I found an
article by Joost Daadler entitled, Are
Wyatt’s Poems in Egerton MS2711 in Chronological Order?. This seemed an
ideal paper to help me ‘get closer’ to Waytt and his MS. Daadler argues in
favour of Foxwell’s assertion that the Egerton
MS (E) is, in fact, a compilation of Wyatt’s work that is ordered
chronologically. E (apparently)
begins in one scribal hand, changes to another, and has later entries in
Wyatt’s own hand and poems corrected by him, as well. As I hadn’t access to MS
microfilms and couldn’t judge the validity of such an argument, however
appealing, I finished the article with the idea that I would review my editions
in terms of their ordering practices and see where my poem fit in.
Jones,
of course, has a sample ‘picking’ from Rebholtz. Rebholtz, on the other hand,
when deciding on his ordering
practice, utilized the MS but arranged his edition “by genres” (Rebholtz, 15).
Within each genre grouping Rebholtz further elaborates on his ordering scheme
by arranging the poems with “known sources in foreign languages before those
without known sources.” (15) He justifies this practice by stating such an
arrangement would be helpful to readers who were interested in “translation and
imitation” (15) of poems from foreign sources. Foxwell, who claims to work
directly from the MS, also groups Wyatt’s poems by genre (rondeaus, sonnets,
epigrams, etc.). Tottel’s Miscellany is similarly not ordered from E. (My
source of MS order is, unfortunately, not the original MS but Foxwell’s table
in vol. 2, 389-94.)
At
this point, I had my first clear impression of the power of the editorial hand
in shaping literary works. Wyatt, dead for fifteen years, had his work compiled
in the first edition of the 1557 Tottel’s
in an order that did not reflect his MS, as best as I can currently determine,
even though evidence suggested (from Foxwell and Daadler) that E contained a series of completed poems
transcribed into good copy. My point is that from the first editor onward
decisions made concerning the ordering of Wyatt’s poems were based on
individual editors’ preferences and not
on the MS.
Nott’s
1815 edition is an elegantly designed and bound volume, and it too ignores MS
authority with respect to order. Nott also employs Tottel’s practice of providing each poem with a title. Both Tottel’s 1870 and 1966 editions use the
title: “To a ladie to answere directly
with yea or nay” for Wyatt’s poem. Rollins comments that, in the 1557
edition, it is “practically certain” (Rollins, vol. 2, 98) that the titles were
“editorial insertions” (vol.2, 98). In the MS, of course, the poems are
untitled. (I base this information on Ewald Flugel’s 1896 transcription of E published in the German periodical, Anglia that I later reviewed.)
Subsequent editions either follow Tottel’s
titling formula or else they use first lines as titles. Others use some form of
a numbering system. According to Flugel, and as far as I can determine from
photographic plates provided in Muir and Thompson, the only ‘title’ that is
used in E is a scribal lettering
system that indicates the poem; it is a single entry: “1 entar”
(Flugel, 31).
I
began to ask myself questions concerning the variants I had found in the
various editions: Why are there discrepancies between editions? Why should Tottel and Foxwell, for example, present
Wyatt’s poem in a single stanza while Nott, Muir and Thompson and the rest
present it in a three-stanza, four-lines-per-stanza format? What was I to make
of the numerous variations in punctuation, spelling, capitalization, word
choice and titles between editions? I turned to a second article by Daadler for
some suggestions, “Major Errors in
Transcription in Recent Editions of Wyatt’s Poetry” from an ANQ
quarterly publication. In his article, Daadler mentions discrepancies he had
found in Rebholtz’s transcription of E
that Rebholtz said was his copy. Daadler suggests these errors might stem from
Rebholtz’s use of Muir and Thompson as his copy text in some instances rather
than E—as he claims he’s used. Daadler also cites instances where there
are difficulties in transcription, which are understandable when dealing with
MS. He also makes mention of errors he had discovered in two other modern
editions. In an ensuing ANQ article,
Rebholtz responds to Daadler’s criticisms, arguing his own claims, acknowledging
some faults, finding fault in turn with Daadler’s own edition, and ends his
article with a comment I found interesting concerning punctuation and spelling.
He says that “accidentals of punctuation and spelling are so important that at
times they determine substantive readings.” Rebholtz, ANQ, 150) He was referring to Daadler’s own system of punctuation
and spelling that he used in transcribing Wyatt’s poems, but the point I felt
was so important was the fact that both editors were arguing in favour of their
own interpretations of Wyatt. They argued for their own systems of modernized
spelling and punctuation. And my thoughts here were: but what of Wyatt? Where
is he in all this dialogue? Their focus was not on authentically representing
Wyatt’s poetry but rather who could best ‘dot the I’s and cross the t’s’ in
their modern versions of the sixteenth century poet’s work.
Daadler
says, of his own punctuation, that it is “editorial and modern” (Daadler, Collected Poems, xxv). His text is
“modernized, and consistently so” (xxv). He states that his aim “has been to
make W accessible to today’s readers by modernizing the text and punctuating
it, but otherwise to be faithful to the best primary sources.” (xxvi). He
states elsewhere that a “primary source can be deciphered reliably only if the
original is consulted.” (Some Major Errors, ANQ, 69). There are some
obvious contradictions here. On the one hand he promotes alterations to
original texts to suit modern tastes, and on the other he seems to say that in
order to understand a text, the original needs to be consulted. Apparently, he
alone will consult the original and let us know what was said. The question is:
Why should the reader take his word for it? Judging from the number of errors
each editor claims the other has made in respective editions, the reader is far
from impressed with so-called editorial ‘authority’. It seems that the
editorial hand must first act to fashion the text in its own image.
I
still awaited Muir and Thompson in order to review their Bonifacio source
claim. In the meantime, I turned to Rollins’ 1966 Tottel’s with the assumption that I would find more consistency in
textual transmission within the publication. Rollins provided much fascinating
information as to the history of the publication but one of his most telling
comments came in his review of the 1557 edition of Tottel’s. The editor, claims Rollins, was prone to “count syllables
and accents on his fingers and thus make the verses regular.” (Rollins, vol.2,
94) He cites the passage from poem 39: It originally began: “There
was neuer file half so well filed” But because Tottel felt the verse to
be too irregular he changed it to: “Was neuer
file yet half so well yfiled.”
Such a practice, Rollins rightly states, is unfair
to Wyatt. Yet Rollins, on the next page says:
“On the whole, then, the editor’s
sins against Wyatt are counterbalanced by his benefactions. He did Wyatt a good
turn in making him suitable for popular taste, and whether good or bad, his
text spread Wyatt’s name and influence abroad.”
(96)
From
Tottel, to Nott and Foxwell; from Rollins and Daadler to Muir and Thompson and
Rebholtz and Jones, time and again we read how editorial policies and practices
are for the good of ‘spreading the word to the masses’. But they are all
variations on the same theme—each purports to know best how to present Wyatt to
the public: through transcriptions, through original spellings but with modern
punctuation; through modern spellings and modern punctuation; through
‘sensible’ interpretations; through elaborate collations and so on. My feelings
on the matter are that when one editor presents one interpretation, there is
room for neither error nor debate. But when ten thousand readers present ten
thousand interpretations, then there is room for error and debate—and understanding
and consensus.
I
still awaited Muir and Thompson (MT). When it arrived, I opened it anticipating
an analysis of Wyatt’s Italian source poem. I hoped to get more of a sense of
the original Wyatt from reading about how he was influenced by Bonifacio’s
poem. MT included a copy of the poem and a note stating that the Wyatt source
had been identified by Joel Newman in a 1957 Renaissance News article. It seemed that I needed, once again, to
go further afield in order to get closer to Wyatt, to yet another interpreter. I felt further from him than when I started my
research. Perhaps though, that only meant that I was more aware of the real distance that exists between Wyatt
and me, and that this distance was imposed, unnecessarily, by the editors I’d
encountered.
MT
had two or three photographic plates from E
but none containing my poem. I felt the need to see the original and decide for
myself. In yet another edition (this one by Muir) I ran across a reference to a
transcription of E. This was as close
as I would get at this point, and so I accessed the Robarts’ Library and found
the Flugel article from an 1896 copy of the German publication Anglia (I later discovered that Harrier
had published (1975) a transcription of Wyatt’s work, which I believe is
located in the Erindale Library. It would be interesting to compare the two
transcriptions for variants.) And so, I sat down to examine the transcription.
If
it is accurate, then Rebholtz’s editorial policy is egregiously obvious (not
forgetting that he himself uses E as
his copy text). While he bases his text on E,
he modernizes spelling, punctuation and capitalization to suit his editing
practices: There are seven punctuation, twenty-one spelling and ten
capitalization variants—all within a twelve-line poem! But the most interesting variant I found is one that also
subtly reflects the larger problem of the poet as he attempts to speak out to
the reader through his ‘interpreters’. In lines 8 and 9 of Flugel’s
transcription the word “yea” is square bracketed. In Flugel’s note (and in MT’s
notes p. 298) it is indicated that this is, in the MS, actually an ampersand: “&”. MT speculates that this symbol,
“&” actually stands for a nod—literally as a silent affirmation. Presumably it
is to be read not as “yea” but rather it
is to be represented by a gesture—the nodding of the head. (And yet, MT
publishes the poem using “yea” not the “&”!) The fact that Flugel
transcribes this ampersand as a “[yea]” would seem to indicate that, he too,
felt this was the ‘correct’ interpretation of the MS symbol.
Thus
Wyatt, in his MS, has indicated a silence*. Yet modern editions, even
transcriptions, invariably record it as a spoken word, and only rarely do they
consider it necessary to even footnote this variant from MS.
Wyatt the poet
asks us to read his poem and in two places, he asks us to be silent. Yet, in
the space of Wyatt’s silences, we feel it is necessary to place our voices. In
a sense, Wyatt is asking us, from the distance of four hundred years, to
listen, and instead we continue to speak.
Appendix
My
initial impression was that Wyatt’s poem had been printed originally in the
first Tottel’s because of its
position early on in the MS (as I speculated earlier, from the MS list provided
in Foxwell’s 1911 edition). It seems somewhat more likely that anyone
publishing a group of poems would ‘leave out’ poems toward the end of a MS
rather than ones nearer the beginning.
Here,
I am reminded of another point I should have mentioned with regard to anthology
content of the various editions. Various editors chose to include some poems
and leave others out. In the study of Wyatt’s MSS, there is debate over
authorship of a number of poems. In Flugel’s transcription (if it can be relied
upon), there are no indications which poems are Wyatt’s and which are by some
other writer. This is perhaps one reason that editors felt it was necessary to
edit poems out of their various anthologies over the years, as debate over
particular poems gave rise to new interpretations of authorship.
Finally,
if, in fact, “Madame withouten” was published in 1815—for the first time—then the deviations from MS (as I can determine
from Flugel’s transcription) have had only 180 years to develop, versus 450. We
might then be grateful to have had a reprieve of an additional century or two
from the editorial hand.
Works Cited
Baldi, Sergio, Sir Thomas Wyatt. Longmans Green and Co. London, 1961.
Daadler, Joost, ed. Sir Thomas Wyatt Collected Poems. Oxford University Press. London,
1975.
-----. “Are Wyatt’s Poems in Chronological Order
in the Egerton MS 2711?”, English Studies,
69 (June, 1988), 67-72.
-----. “Some Major Errors in Transcription in
Recent Editions of Wyatt’s Poetry.” ANQ,
nsl (April, 1988), 67-72.
Foxwell, A.K., ed., The Poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt, 2 vols. Russel and Russel Inc. New
York, 1964.
Jones, Emery, ed., The New Oxford Book of Sixteenth Century Verse, Oxford University
Press. Oxford, 1992.
Muir, K., ed. The
Collected Poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt. Routledge and Kegan, Paul Ltd. London,
1949.
Muir, K. and P. Thompson, eds., The collected
Poems of Sir Thomas Wyatt, Liverpool University Press. Liverpool, 1969.
Nott, George, ed., The Works of Henry Howard Earl of Surrey and of Sir Thomas Wyatt the
Elder. Longman, Hurst, Rees, Orme and Brown, Paternoster-Row. London, 1816.
Rebholtz, R.A., ed., Sir Thomas Wyatt The Complete Poems, Penguin Books. New York, 1978.
Tottel’s
Miscellany, ed., Edward Arber. English
Reprints. London, 1870.
-----. ed. Hyder Rollins. 2 vols. Harvard
University Press, 1966.
Flugel, Ewald, “Die Hndschriftliche Uberlieferung
Der Gedichte Bon Sir Thomas Wyatt” in Anglia,
Band XVIII. Neue Folge Band VI. Halle A.S. Berlin, 1896
…..
Professor’s Comments:
Don McDonnell March 18, 1993 Dear Don,
I thought this was a most sensitive paper. Sensitive to
the question of who and what "Wyatt" is, and sensitive to the
question of who we are when we go looking for him
it was a wonderful performance, drawing on your great
strengths of irony and detailed observations, you have a nice mix of Chaucerian
naive narrator and outspoken critic.
There is a competition among student essays for an
English Department prize. I would like to recommend yours to go ahead to the
competition. is that OK with you?
Randy. 88 [Grade]
..........
As you can see here in Luminarium's manuscript photo, the “Eggerton MS 2711, f. 24V.”, there are no periods inside of curly brackets to replace Wyatt’s naughty “yea” that PF uses. Furthermore, PF seems to be using the ampersand “&” grammatically, to stand in for the determiner "a" in line 8, as in: "Answer him fair with a {.} or nay." [see below] But, in line 9, the “&” is followed by a comma sign which makes even less sense, gramatically or otherwise! It confusingly reads: "If there be a, {.} or nay". Hardly poetic, and I assume the insertion of the comma is what we moderns call a "typo". But, from the Egerton MS photo we can see that in neither line does Wyatt use "a" before his "&". He just uses the ampersand "&". Methinks there be editors lurking about the field. Beware!
THE LADY TO ANSWER DIRECTLY WITH
YEA OR NAY.
1 Jests or tricks. 2 Compassion.
Source:
Yeowell, James, Ed. The Poetical Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt.
London: George Bell and Sons, 1904. 178.
What's the point in worrying about all this? Why does it matter? Well, I think it's important to understand how words, ideas, meanings and so on change over time, and how we as readers view text today. Modern editors put in the word "yea" for obvious reasons of readability and grammar, and heck, I like Luminarium's version just fine--but we still lose that context of what his words meant for him and for his readers; something is lost in translation. We all know what Wyatt is saying. Today we can freely say and write the word "yea" or "yes" without fear of censure (or losing our heads!) And that's a good thing. But his silences should speak to us as well.
Along with images and photographs, I think words have become cheap, today. Digital technologies have made scribing (like this) and the wide disseminination of text a relatively easy task. And that comes with a cost....
Finally, my bug-a-boo about replacing two silent "yeas" with spoken ones over the course of a few centuries—the main reason I had for researching Wyatt's poem in the first place!—still stands. Is that a {.} or nay?
* Wyatt's silence may have a lot to do with court politics and royal serial killer Henry VIII's habit of lopping off the heads of those who run afoul of him--especially those who might want to sleep with his mistress! "Madam" in the poem may be a reference to Anne Boleyn. (O, those lusty English!)
..........
OKAY. IF YOU'VE GOT THIS FAR AND HAVEN'T BECOME COMPLETELY LOST in the weeds, you’re
definitely a geek! I wrote this essay ages ago at university and thought I
would dust off the mimeograph machine and roll out a copy for your amusement.
It was written when the internet was just a tiny baby (versus its big-baby status
today) and I was using pen and paper, and the high technology of a
word-processor to write it up. How times have changed!
I
just typed "Madam, Withouten Many Words" by Sir Thomas Wyatt into a google search and got waaay too many references that, before,
I had to spend days searching through
library stacks and reference shelves looking for research materials and copy
variants, typographical notations, MS transcriptions, etc., as I’ve outlined
in my essay that you’ve, of course, read and absorbed.
I also include [above] the digitalized photocopy originals that went with it, in
all their adorable, old-school cut and paste glory.
I
liked the fun that I had doing this paper—the freedom to just delve into something, I guess. It’s a
nostalgia trip for me: Boomer
Goes to University (Again); you’ve seen the movie. But I posted it because it’s a reminder of what I was discussing earlier about “truth” and how we arrive at it.
(Carefully. Openly. Respectfully.)
This
old essay was another search for truth: looking at someone’s words and trying
to understand what they mean, and how time (and editors!), as well as changes
in society and language alter our perceptions of them. The use of a particular
word, "yea" (or more to the point, that word’s absence),
the logic of its message; its appeal (or not), and in the poem as a whole, its
tone, rhetorical flourishes, narrative
voice, imagery, presumed audience and so on, are part of truth’s ‘framework’—a concretization of thought and emotion in
poetic form. Thus, in reading Wyatt's poem, we allow its shape and construction to inform us of its
truths.
But
poems, like anything, can be co-opted or deformed, and their truths can be altered (it happens all the time) whether they’re four
hundred years old or four.
For example, in the recent publication of "Madam withouten" on the Poetry Foundation (PF) website, I note that the site replaces the word “yea” with “&[.]”
For example, in the recent publication of "Madam withouten" on the Poetry Foundation (PF) website, I note that the site replaces the word “yea” with “&[.]”
And,
well…nice try, but I checked online for a photographic image of the Egerton MS that I mention in my essay. (Egerton, BTW refers to a library collection held at the British Museum.) I went to Luminarium.org after a quick google
search and found that the transcription used by the PF folks,
doesn’t seem to jive with the original MS.
As you can see here in Luminarium's manuscript photo, the “Eggerton MS 2711, f. 24V.”, there are no periods inside of curly brackets to replace Wyatt’s naughty “yea” that PF uses. Furthermore, PF seems to be using the ampersand “&” grammatically, to stand in for the determiner "a" in line 8, as in: "Answer him fair with a {.} or nay." [see below] But, in line 9, the “&” is followed by a comma sign which makes even less sense, gramatically or otherwise! It confusingly reads: "If there be a, {.} or nay". Hardly poetic, and I assume the insertion of the comma is what we moderns call a "typo". But, from the Egerton MS photo we can see that in neither line does Wyatt use "a" before his "&". He just uses the ampersand "&". Methinks there be editors lurking about the field. Beware!
1 Madam,
withouten many words
2 Once
I am sure ye will or no ...
3 And if
ye will, then leave your bourds
4 And
use your wit and show it so,
5 And
with a beck ye shall me call;
6 And
if of one that burneth alway
7 Ye have
any pity at all,
8
Answer him fair with &
{.} or nay.
9 If it
be &, {.} I
shall be fain;
10 If
it be nay, friends as before;
11Ye
shall another man obtain,
12 And I mine own and yours no more.
(Poetry
Foundation version. Line numbering mine. Ed.)
A
further complication—for me at least—is that I don’t know anything about Luminarium. I don’t think their Egerton MS
is
the same as the one that is at the beginning in my original essay—it looks too ‘cleaned
up’. And--full dislosure--in reviewing the Egerton MS photograph from my 1993 essay, I can't really read it. Maybe when I originally viewed the MS copy at my university's reference library I could read it properly. Now I can't. I also note that in my original MS photocopy there are no identifying reference numbers to check to see if it's the same MS page as Luminarium's. Too bad, that would have been helpful. So Luminarium's photograph must do as the real deal for our purposes. Is their version accurate? Does it represent Wyatt’s ‘good copy'? I don’t
know for certain. Nevertheless, "a" does not appear in either line.
And, again I note with a sigh, the word “yea” has been put into the transcribed poem, which they provide underneath the photo of the original MS on their website. [They also have alternate version of the title for the originally untitled MS version.] Annoyingly, they use a 1898 source publication (Yeowell) that I somehow missed in my original essay. I’m just glad the prof didn’t wise up to my omission!
And, again I note with a sigh, the word “yea” has been put into the transcribed poem, which they provide underneath the photo of the original MS on their website. [They also have alternate version of the title for the originally untitled MS version.] Annoyingly, they use a 1898 source publication (Yeowell) that I somehow missed in my original essay. I’m just glad the prof didn’t wise up to my omission!
|
MADAM, withouten many words, Once I am sure you will, or no : And if you will, then leave you bourds,1 And use your wit, and shew it so, For, with a beck you shall me call ; And if of one, that burns alway, Ye have pity or ruth 2 at all, Answer him fair, with yea or nay. If it be yea, I shall be fain ; If it be nay—friends, as before ; You shall another man obtain, And I mine own, and yours no more. |
1 Jests or tricks. 2 Compassion.
Source:
Yeowell, James, Ed. The Poetical Works of Sir Thomas Wyatt.
London: George Bell and Sons, 1904. 178.
(Luminarium.org
version.)
 |
| Anne Boleyn 1501-1536 |
 |
| Henry VIII 1491-1547 |
Along with images and photographs, I think words have become cheap, today. Digital technologies have made scribing (like this) and the wide disseminination of text a relatively easy task. And that comes with a cost....
Finally, my bug-a-boo about replacing two silent "yeas" with spoken ones over the course of a few centuries—the main reason I had for researching Wyatt's poem in the first place!—still stands. Is that a {.} or nay?
Cheers,
Jake.
* Wyatt's silence may have a lot to do with court politics and royal serial killer Henry VIII's habit of lopping off the heads of those who run afoul of him--especially those who might want to sleep with his mistress! "Madam" in the poem may be a reference to Anne Boleyn. (O, those lusty English!)
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