us nonsense verse and not without skill.’2 Similarly, a standard work on the comic poetry of the Restoration period discusses at length the ‘drolleries’ or collections of light poetry, but devotes only one sentence to the nonsense poems which they contained: ‘There are not many of these in the drolleries, but there are some.’3 Even Bernard Capp’s excellent study of John Taylor, the only full-length work ever to have been published on this seminal nonsense poet, makes only passing references to his nonsense writing, and does not attempt to assess his place in the development of the genre itself.4 The best discussion known to me of the seventeenth-century nonsense tradition is given in Timothy Raylor’s recent study of Sir John Mennes and James Smith; but it amounts to no more than two suggestive paragraphs.5
In more general works of literary history, the ignorance of this genre is even more striking. Standard works on nonsense poetry either pass over the seventeenth century in silence, or allude briefly to one or two poems which have appeared in modern nonsense anthologies without investigating the genre to which they belonged.6 Entries on ‘Nonsense’ in reference works such as the Princeton Encyclopaedia of Poetry and Poetics make no allusion whatsoever to the seventeenth-century material. More surprisingly, there is no overall history of nonsense poetry in medieval and Renaissance European literature, even though specific aspects of this subject, and works by specific authors, have been discussed separately in some detail.7 In Chapter 3 of the Introduction to this collection I have tried to put together for the first time an overall history of medieval and Renaissance nonsense poetry in Europe, and, in doing so, to suggest some of the lines of transmission which tie together the nonsense literatures of different periods and countries.
Why bother to take such serious trouble over such a self-evidently ridiculous subject-matter? One reason must be that nonsense poetry, like any comic genre, is part of the larger literary culture which it inhabits, and to which it is connected in many ways, both direct and indirect: understanding more about those connections can only shed light on other areas of literature too. It can tell us about the ways in which writers and readers regarded the literary fashions, stylistic conventions, and canons of taste and diction of the day. In Chapter 2 of the Introduction I have tried to show how intimately the earliest seventeenth-century nonsense poetry was bound up with the development of late Elizabethan dramatic and satirical poetry. Nonsense poetry is also connected, in more tangential ways, with a wide range of minor genres, sources and traditions in European literary history; I have offered some examples of these connections in Chapter 4. Also in that chapter, I have tried to set out some more general conclusions about the nature and origins of nonsense poetry, which may be valid for other periods too; these conclusions run contrary to the theories about ‘carnivalesque’ humour which nowadays dominate most discussion of early modern comic writing.
But the most important reason for collecting these poems should not be left altogether unsaid. At their best, they are supremely enjoyable – exuberant, sonorous, and (within the confines of some soon-to-be-familiar routines) richly inventive. The best sections of Taylor’s two large-scale nonsense works (Sir Gregory Nonsence and The Essence of Nonsence upon Sence: poems 11 and 17 in this collection) contain some of the most splendid nonsense poetry in the English language, which can be enjoyed by anyone who possesses even a slight acquaintance with the ‘serious’ literature of the period. Of course, reading page after page of this material will jade any reader’s appetite, like feasting on chocolate; and in any case not all the poems in this collection are of high quality. Nevertheless, the most important aim of this book is not to trade arguments with scholarly specialists, but to share the pleasure of these poems with all interested readers.
For that reason, notes have been added to explain words and allusions; some of these may seem unnecessary to those readers who have a thorough grounding in classical mythology or a specialist knowledge of seventeenth-century vocabulary. A few ‘Longer Notes’ are presented on pp. 289–94. Otherwise, I have placed all explanatory notes at the foot of each page, rather than collecting them in a single glossary at the end of the book. This has been done for two reasons: first, for the ease of the reader, and secondly, because some of the words which need explanation would not obviously strike the reader as requiring it. (In the phrase ‘Ale and Wigs’, for example, the ‘Wigs’ are bread-rolls, not hairpieces; but it would not occur to most readers to look up ‘Wigs’ in a glossary.) I hope that readers will be patient with the inevitable degree of repetition which this method entails (repeated explanations have been dispensed with only within the unit of a single page), and remember that the repetitions are there for their own convenience.
The annotations also contain occasional textual notes (distinguished by the key-words being printed in italics), recording material variants between texts and my own formal emendations of the copy-text; the sources referred to in these notes are listed at the end of each poem. But my emendations are few and far between. With a few exceptions (recorded in the notes) I have preserved original spellings and punctuations; the only changes which I have made systematically and silently are to convert initial ‘v’ to ‘u’, medial ‘u’ to ‘v’, ‘i’ to ‘j’ (where appropriate) and long ‘s’ to normal ‘s’. Otherwise the degree of emendation is as light as possible. Some of these poems use word-play, or ingenious Hudibrastic rhymes, which would disappear from view in a modernized spelling of the text. Others, which are in gibberish, cannot of course be modernized at all. And where textual emendations are concerned, it is necessary to bear in mind that nonsense poetry overturns all the usual rules of procedure. Normally, where different stages of manuscript transmission survive, corruptions to the text can be identified by an editor on the grounds that a corrupted text makes less sense than the original. In the case of nonsense poetry, the opposite is true: corruption involves the introduction of sense. ‘O that my lungs could bleat’ is, for example, a corruption of ‘O that my wings could bleat’. The most insidious error a modern editor can commit, therefore, is to introduce any further corruptions of this kind into the text. Some strange examples of this were perpetrated by Charles Hindley, the diligent Victorian editor of one collection of John Taylor’s works: ‘Sinderesis of Wapping’, for instance, was emended by Hindley to ‘Cinderesses of Wapping.’8 This brings to mind the logic of the (perhaps legendary) German editor of Shakespeare, who ‘corrected’ one famous passage to make it read: ‘stones in the running brooks, Sermons in books’. It is a logic which I have tried to avoid.
Finally, a few words about definitions, or the lack of them. Readers will note that I use the term ‘genre’ in a fairly loose, non-technical way. Readers will also observe that at no point in this book do I attempt to frame a precise definition of nonsense. Such definition-making is not necessary for practical reasons, any more than it is necessary for studies of lyric poetry or comedy to begin with watertight definitions of those terms. These are things which, usually, we recognize when we see them. But close definition is not desirable for theoretical reasons either, since these literary types are cluster-concepts: they have a core on which all can agree, and a more variable periphery on which disagreement is always possible. The ‘high’ literary nonsense of Hoskyns, Taylor and Corbet clearly belongs at the core of any notion of nonsense poetry; some of the other items in this collection are closer to the periphery.
I am grateful to the Bodleian Library, Oxford, for permission to print the texts of poems 14, 19, 20, and 32; to the British Library, London, for permission to print the text of poem 30; and to Nottingham University Library for permission to print the text of poem 21. I should like to record my thanks to the staff of not only those libraries, but also the Cambridge University Library, where much of the research for this edition was done.
The notes record specific sources of information, but I have not thought it necessary to give such sources for general information contained in standard reference works. Of such works, the most useful in preparing this edition have been the following: The Oxford English Dictionary, The Dictionary of National Biography, Brewer’s Dictionary of Phrase and Fable, Brewer’s Reader’s Companion, The Oxford Companion to Classical Literature, Lemprière’s Classical Dictionary, Sugden’s Topographical Dictionary to the Works of Shakespeare, Stow’s Survey of London, Kent’s Encyclopaedia of London and Partridge’s Dictionary of Historical Slang. Full details of these works are given in the bibliography.