fiPICTURES–OF A GOOD SUBJECTfl: FR IENDSHIP, THE COMMONWEALTH, AND THE CARE OF THE SELF IN EARL Y MODERN LITERATURE AND CULTURE By Andrew Scott Kranzman A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of English Œ Doctor of Philosophy 2015 ABSTRACT fiPICTURES–OF A GOOD SUBJECTfl: FR IENDSHIP, THE COMMONWEALTH, AND THE CARE OF THE SELF IN EARL Y MODERN LITERATURE AND CULTURE By Andrew Scott Kranzman This dissertation argues that emphases on self-knowledge and duty within friendship discourse of the early modern period repudia tes a common assumption that friendship is primarily a private, selfless, apolitical affair separate from public life. This discourse largely highlights fashioning the self as an ethical and po litical subject while the friend per se remains of secondary concern. As the Early Modern Rese arch Group observes, fit he commonwealth–act[s] as a language to articulate personal and public vi ces and virtuesfl (Early Modern Research Group 670). An emphasis on obligation and reciprocity for the common good or bonum commune, the importance of social hierar chy, obedience, and subordination, as well as a belief in moral discipline as the anodyne to social ills prove to be recurring components of this filanguage.fl Some major concerns within friendship discou rse and practice include: the realization of membership in a larger community; the importan ce of measure and mean to both individual and community well-being; the obligation to ad monish community members who fail to uphold duties and shared moral standards; and the necessity of social concord across various classes. Moreover, period conceptions of friendship demonstrate that the formation of figoodfl and fidutifulfl does not proceed wit hout cognitive, moral, and emoti onal struggles, particularly, as regards indifference, selfishne ss, flattery, and resentment. Each chapter explores a specific facet of early modern friendship discourse and practice and places it in conversation with the filanguagefl of the commonwealth: self-knowledge, the care of the self, frank speech, and gender. My first chapter argues that Tudor friendship pamphlets and Tottel™s Songs and Sonnets exploit the sentiment that self-knowledge fosters concord, where one learns to fashion the self into a dutiful subjec t to God and man. As I delin eate in this chapter, discussions of self-knowledge frequently focus on the possibility of sedition arising from a lack of knowledge about one™s duty and obedience to the commonwealth. The second chapter examines the disciplinary function of self-know ledge and duty within friendship discourse and The Two Gentlemen of Verona . Concerns surrounding self-love and temperance in friendship focus on the potential for disaster when one doe s not know the extent of their duties to the commonwealth. As I demonstrate in my thir d chapter, which focuses on Plutarch and King Lear, the sense of duty to authority that guides se lf-fashioning in friendship and buttresses self- knowledge also highlights the necessity of fashi oned speech, particularly the tactful articulation of one™s conscience in order to preserve ethical bonds and duties within the community. However, as regards the practice of tactful antagonism, that is, fiparrh siafl or frank speech, concerns surface because it potentially disrupts social hierarchies and so closely resembles the very thing it supposedly combats: flattery. In my final chapter, I examine themes discussed in earlier chapters (i.e., self-knowledge, temperance, and admonishment) through the lens of gender and class. Amelia Lanyer™s poems, and early modern culture and l iterature in general, depict caritas, or friendship between the self and others mediated by Christ, as one way to cultivate private virtue and public concor d that surpasses social divisi ons. As I argue, divisions and faultlines that are mostly class-based, along with vi sions of a lack of social mobility, pressure the utopian idea of friendship among women put forth by Lanyer as well as general discussions of social concord among all cla sses in the commonwealth. Copyright by ANDREW SCOTT KRANZMAN 2015 v For my best friends and bedfellows, Marilyn, Rosemary, and Pete. viACKNOWLEDGEMENTS My dissertation committee of Jyotsna Singh, Steve Deng, Sandra Logan, and Craig Dionne were invaluable to the completion of this project. As friends and mentors, my co-chairs Dr. Singh and Dr. Deng provided a steady hand wh en my dissertation (f requently) went awry. Their guidance, best summarized by Aristotle™s praise of the ever attentive friend who anticipates the needs of another and fifr eely commeth to succor & help–w ithout calling, or sending for,fl has had a lasting impact on me as a writer, scho lar, teacher, and human be ing. I also gratefully and sincerely thank Dr. Logan and Dr. Dionne for their skepticism, enthusiasm, and encouragement. Special thanks goes to Dr. Di onne, who was willing to serve on my dissertation committee. I am also indebted to the early modern cohort for their in tellectual and moral support, particularly Lisa Bark sdale-Shaw, Neal Klomp, Amirta Sen, and Jennifer Toms. I thank Hannah Allen, Rituparna Mitra, and Nicole McCleese for their fellowship and fisharing a bushel of saltfl with me during my time at MSU. I hope more lie ahead. My students at Modesto Junior College in Modesto, CA have taught me the importance of being a citizen-scholar in and out of the classroom. I owe much to them. The love and support of numerous friends insp ire much of what I wr ite in the following pages: Daniel and Christine have shown me that friendship brings with it a quietness of mind; Marybeth that friendship helps one, to quote Cicero, fito look at things as they are in the experience of everyday life and no t as they are in fancy or in hope;fl Margot, a filamp of uprightness,fl that friends should be bold to speak their mind; J aco and Rachel have shown me that one of friendship™s numerous fruits is that fiit projects the bright ray of hope into the future;flviiLecia and Lane, that frank spe ech is an ethical responsibility one must not eschew; Sarah, Dedric, Sandy, Cynthia, and Larry have taught me that friendship surpasses bonds of kinship. The Rev. Dove Love has taught me one of the more valuable lessons: ethical care of the self is the foundation of any friendship. I am fortunate to call all of you my friends. Derek R. Conrad and Bob Coleman-Senghor ha ve taught me the most about friendship, and although neither lived to see the completion of this project, they remain a constant in my daily life. To quote Donne, fi[t]hough they are buried and taken from the world of the living, yet to my spirit they seem to never have died.fl I hope Derek and Bob approve of the finished product. This project was made possible through the financial support and fifriendly help,fl to quote Helena, of a community of st rangers joined by a love of learning. I am forever indebted to the generosity of the John Yunck Fellowship, th e Dissertation Completion Fellowship from the Graduate School at Michigan St ate University, the Graduate Me rit Scholarship, and the Marion Kurtz Croak Scholarship. I also thank the Michigan taxpayer for supporting the work of a world- class research university; I woul d not have been able to atte nd graduate school without their support. Thank you is also necessary to Sandy for th e use of her cabin in bucolic Albion over the summer of 2014 as well as Rachel and Jaco for ge nerously allowing me to write most of this dissertation from their lovely perch atop Mt. Tamalpais. Finally, and most importantl y, you would not be reading this without the tireless love, support, and inspiration of Marilyn, Rosemary, a nd Peter. They have taught me that there is nothing more pleasant than to have a friend with whom you may dare speak as with yourself. I dedicate this dissertation, as well as my life, to all of them. Pete, I promise to write about cross- species friendship in early modern culture one of these days. viii TABLE OF CONTENTS Introduction 1 Project Overview 1 The fipicture–of a good subjectfl 3 The Early Modern ficult of friendshipfl 7 An Appeal to the Ancients: Classical Sources on Friendship 12 Friendship and the Commonwealth 19 Chapter Summaries 24 Chapter One: filove we the frendful mindefl: The Politics of Self-knowledge in the Tudor Friendship Pamphlets and Richard Tottel™s Songs and Sonnets 35 Introduction: The Self as an Object of Study 35 fiThou shalt love thy Lord God–in all thy mindfl: Nosce Teipsum and Duties 42 Self-knowledge in Early Modern Friends hip Materials 53 Fashioning the Self and the Nation in Tottel™s Miscellany 65 The fifrendful mindefl Revisited 79 Chapter Two: fiI to myself am dearer than a frie ndfl: The Problem of Care of the Self and Care of the Other in The Two Gentlemen of Verona 82 Introduction: A fitemperate and moderate personfl 82 Foucault and the Care of the Self: The 1982 Lectures 91 fithe knot of frendshipfl: The Care of the Self in Tudor Friendship Pamphlets 100 The Two Gentlemen of Verona and The Problem of the Care of the Self 114 fiThe good hope that is to comefl 133 Chapter Three: fiSpeak what we feel, not wh at we ought to sayfl: Frank Speech and Tactful Antagonism in King Lear 136 Introduction: figive no credence to [a n]otherfl 136 Parrh sia and fithe art of lifefl: Foucault at Berkeley and the Collège de France 148 Tactful Antagonism in Plutarch 160 King Lear and Tactful Antagonism 171 fiSpeak what we feelfl 194 Chapter four Caritas and Feminine Ethos in the Salve Deus Rex Judæorum 199 Introduction: fithere must nedes be divers me[m]bersfl 199 Gender, Friendship, and the Care of the Self 205 Tyranny, Caritas, and Feminine Ethos in Lanyer 220 fiModest sensuresfl 235 Afterword: fiMany souls, so to speak, become onefl: Friendship is the Commonwealth 240 WORKS CITED 242 1 Introduction fiHe that loveth pureness of heart, for the grace of his lips, the king shall be his friendfl (Proverbs 22:11) Project Overview In what follows, I will argue that a pe riod emphasis on self-knowledge and duty in friendship repudiates a common a ssumption that the early modern era envisions friendship as primarily a private, selfless, apolitical affair divorced from public life. 1 This is not to say that early modern friendship discourse refrains fr om representing friendship as a private and inherently apolitical relationship predicated on self-abnegation Œ indeed, just to name a few, friendship narratives such as Richard Edwards™s Damon and Pythias or Sir Thomas Elyot™s fiThe wonderfull history of Titus and Gisippusfl make this all too frequent claim in spite of numerous internal contradictions. As I will show, through its emphasis on self-knowledge and duty, early modern friendship discourse and practice identify fr iendship as a corollary of ethics and politics and, more generally, communal life. Moreover, these facets of friendship speak to larger concerns of the form and function of the comm onwealth in early modern England, among which the idea of ‚the common good™ and the subject™ s duty to it prove centr al. As a 1598 ‚Englished™ translation of the French humanist Loys Le Roy™s commentary on the Politics by John Dee aptly puts it, fia city is ordained for honest actions, an d not for living together onely–[and this] is the work of friendship, for friendshi p is nothing but an election of living orderly together, and therefore the purpose and end of cities is to live wellfl (sig. Q3r). 1 For friendship as a site of alienation in early modern literature and culture see Tom MacFaul, Male Friendship in Shakespeare and His Contemporaries (Cambridge, 2007). For friendship as largely a private affair removed from public politics see Laurie Shannon, in Sovereign Amity: Figures of Friendship in Shakespearean Contexts (Chicago, 2002) 2 Given an emphasis in friendship discourse on fihonest action,fl social concord, and moral obligation, as well as on its popularity as a perennial topic of interest to readers, spectators, and writers throughout the period, it should come as no surprise that friendship provides a vocabulary for the era to think about what it means to be a ‚good™ and ‚du tiful™ subject in the commonwealth. 2 Some of the major concerns taken up by friendship discourse and practice in this light include: the realization of membersh ip in a larger community (chapter one); the importance of measure and mean to both indivi dual and community well-being (chapter two); the obligation to admonish community members when they fail to uphold their duties and a shared moral standard (chapter three); and the ne cessity of social concord across various classes (chapter four). Moreover, peri od conceptions of friendship dem onstrate that the formation of figoodfl and fidutifulfl does not proceed without cognitive, moral, and emotional struggles, particularly, as regards indiffere nce, selfishness, flattery, and resentment (key topics, as I demonstrate, of great interest to early mode rn ficommonwealth men,fl who frequently exhort subjects to follow friendship practices that butt ress the commonwealth). One must add to this the gender inflections embedded in early modern friendship discourse Œ a discourse primarily addressed to men and one that reminds them of their moral and social roles within the community Œ and the manner in which it underscore s the exclusion of wome n. As I demonstrate, the call for self-regulation and moral imperative in early modern fr iendship discourse and practice emanates from a perceived necessity to ha rness friendship to a higher cause, such as the 2 Likewise, it should come as no surprise that since the establishment of Caxton™s printing presses in England, when Cicero™s text on friendship and duty to the commonwealth were some of the first turned out in ‚Englishe d™ form, texts on friendship tend to appear during times of social and political change (suc h as 1531-1534 during the English Reformation, 1553- 1555 during the Marian Counter-Reformation, 1584-1588 during the war with Spain, etc.). 3 common good or a shared, moral code. It also pro ceeds from a belief in the responsibility of the self to perform continual mainta inece on his ethical identity, through self-reflection, temperance, and courage. Before going into detail about the contents a nd claims of each chapter, I first outline the framework of my project. This entails a brief discussion of an example from the period (a sermon John Donne delivers before a group of administrators ); a literature revi ew of scholarship on early modern friendship discourse; an ov erview of early modern friendship discourse, including the classical antecedents from which it draws; and, finally, a brief discussion of the term ‚commonwealth™ in early modern culture. The fipicture–of a good subjectfl John Donne, in a sermon delivered at St. Pa ul™s on March 24, 1616 to celebrate fithe Anniversary of the King™s coming to the Crown,fl examines Proverbs 22:11 at length in relation to "two pictures,...a good pictur e of a good king, and of a good s ubject" (99). The sermon, which uses friendship to emphasize how fispiritual duties and services towards him [Christ]fl correspond to fiexternal duties as belong to the maintenance of this worldfl (and which reads contrary to his advice on friendship to Sir Henry Wotton in the ve rse-letter, fiTo Sir, w ith Lovefl) outline these fitwo picturesfl of subject and sovereign in affective and ethical terms (130): Here in our text [Proverbs 22:11], we fi nd the subject™s picture first; and his marks are two: first, purene ss of heart, that he can be an honest man; and then grace of lips, that he be good for something; for, by this phrase, grace of lips is expressed every ability, to do any offi ce of society for the public good–.In the king™s picture, the principal mark is, that he shall be friendly and gracious; but 4 gracious to him that hath this grace of lips, to him that hath endeavored, in some way, to be of use to the public. (100) In this example, the relationship between the subject and sovereign envisioned by Donne, as well as his description of their resp ective fipicture[s],fl is a commixture of fiachievedfl and fiascribedfl bonds, to borrow two phrases from David Kons tan™s study of friendship in antiquity (1). Indeed, as Donne contends, such a relationship is a comb ination of affective bond s (that is, fiachievedfl) and territorial bonds (that is, fia scribedfl) based on both a moral code and a social obligation. 3 This commixture is perhaps the clearest in Donne™s discussion of the fipicture–of a good subject,fl where fipureness of heart,fl defined as th e formation of an ethical or fihonestfl self, and later, a finoble,–sovereign,–and possessory affection,fl is joined to a figrace of his lips,fl defined as service for the fipublic goodfl and sovereign (101). 4 These same terms also limn the fipicture–of a good king,fl where the hospitality, figracious[ness],fl and fifriendl[iness]fl of the sovereign extend to those who perform works fiof use to the public.fl Throughout his sermon, Donne draws heavily on the language and image of friendship to paint the fipicturefl of a subject and sovereign. He explicitly grounds the discussion of these fipicture[s]fl in the fispiritual–and civil offices of friendship,fl that is to say, in religious, moral, affective, social, and pol itical obligations (119). In this contex t, the meaning of the term fiofficefl 3 Kinship and citizenship are two examples of fiascribedfl bonds while neighborliness, patriotism, or romantic love are examples of fiachievedfl bonds. See Konstan, fiIntroduction,fl 1- 14. 4 Donne follows this excerpt with one of many brief commentaries on Proverbs 22:11: fiHe that loveth pureness of heart (for there is the foundation) for the grace of his lips (there is the upper building) the king shall be his friend.fl 5 thus broadens to not only incl ude, to quote period understandings of the term as listed in the OED, fia position or post to which certain duties are attached,fl but also fithe performance of–a duty, function, [or] service,fl and, perhaps most important for the current study, a fiduty towards others; [a] moral obligationfl ( OED). Understood in this light, the fispiritual–and civil offices,fl as well as their corresponding oblig ations, apply just as much to ge neral subjects of the Realm as they do its bureaucrats and loca l office-holders Donne addresses. Indeed, Donne affirms this sentiment later in his sermon. Even though he delivers his sermon before a group of administrators, and not the general public, he no netheless claims that the lessons derived from Proverbs 22:11 equally apply to all subjects: fiBut if these words be not only intended of the king literally,...but extended to all men in their proportion, that all that are able should do good to such personsfl joined through friendship with Ch rist and their earthly sovereign (130). Moreover, Donne explicitly qualifies friendship between the sovereign and subject, and reveals, through this rhetorical move, a greater concern with the fipicturefl and conduct of the subject: "the king's friendship that is promised here, ( The king shall be his friend ) is utilis amicitia [an instrumental friendship], all such fr iends as may do him good"(125). Indeed, while Donne goes to great lengths to stress the n eed for the subject to reform his heart and ethos, as well as be cognizant of how his act ions might serve the greater good, he paints the fipicturefl of a king interested only in utility, particularly how subjects performing their duties contribute to the social, spiritual, economic, and political well-being of th e realm. Moreover, th is qualific ation is necessary for political and theological reasons, si nce as Donne later observes, it prevents the subject from thinking he is e qual to his sovere ign and God™s emissary on earth: "as moral men 6 have noted, friendship implies so me degrees of equality, whic h cannot stand between king and subject" (131). 5 Donne™s tendency to draw on the vocabulary of friendship when discussing the subject™s moral and political duties to the self, sovere ign, and commonwealth is far from anomalous; rather, as I shall demonstrate in this project, it draws from and belongs to a well-known discourse of friendship that is frequently used to underscore such con cerns. Indeed, this discourse consistently circulates broadly throughout the period (par ticularly from the latter part of the fifteenth-century through the end of the Tudor era) and is inspired largely by classical treatments on the topic by Cicero, Aristotle, and Plutarch; the fimoral menfl that Donne surely alludes to when noting that the sovereign cannot literally be friends with his subjects. Furthermore, Donne™s audience, as well as an early modern English pub lic, would, in a ll likelihood, be extremely familiar with the tenets of friendship discussed by these fimoral menfl since these ideas appear in a variety of literary forms during the period, that range (to name only a few), from the ‚vulgar™ or ‚Englished™ translations of classica l texts on friendship for general readers to Latin curriculum in lower form and university classroo ms; commercial drama to university and court drama; prose literature to manuscr ipt and printed poetry; pamphlet s to low ballads; and, a host of 5 He begins this passage noting how the hierarchy of God, king, and subject influence friendship with the sovereign: fiStep we a step lo wer, from God to the king; for as kings have no example but God, so according to that example they are reserved, and sparing in affording that name of friend to any" (131). It is interesting to note that Donne does not completely foreclose the possibility of the sovereign having friends. See Ernst Hartwig Kantorowicz™s magisterial, The King's Two Bodies: A Study in Mediaeval Political Theology (Princeton, 1997), for further information about the theological assumptions embedded in period conceptions of sovereignty. Originally published in 1957, Kantorowicz™s text proves useful for understanding early modern fi political theology.fl 7 sermons, miscellanies, images, etc. 6 Thus, before I proceed further with the thesis and outline of this project, it is important to broadly sketch and summarize early modern friendship discourse, particularly its tenets, the classi cal antecedents that inspire it, and provide a brief overview of the select texts and social situations in which frie ndship discourse makes an appearance. After the cultural and literary contexts have initially been introduced, I will then elaborate my thesis that early modern culture uses friendship discourse to stress the formation of a moral and political subject in service to the commonwealth. The Early Modern ficult of friendshipfl Donne, in a letter to Sir Henry Goodyer (who, if the records are reliable, served in the Parliament of James), famously refers to friendship as fimy second religionfl (86). 7 Whether Donne speaks hyperbolically to Goodyer (which might be the case since he does so in other letters where friendship is charac terized as analogous to religion) , modern scholars such as Horst Hutter have noted how a fiveritable cult of frie ndshipfl exists in early modern culture and literature (Politics 9). Though the term ficultfl might conjur e up images of a discourse, to quote the OED, comprised of fibeliefs or practices regard ed by others as strange or sinister,fl the interest in friendship during the period is far from peripheral ( OED). Jeffrey Masten, responding to Clifford Leech™s introduction to the second Arden edition of Shakespeare™s The Two Gentlemen of Varona , takes issue with the qualifier ficultfl fo r its connotation of an esoteric and 6 See Shannon, 33-40, for a discussion of embl ems of friendship in Stuart culture. 7 There are several Sir Henry Goodyers a ffiliated with the Court around this time; moreover, most of them are related. For other instances where Donne equates friendship with religion, see 116 and 246. 8 marginal discourse; friendship, as Masten rightly observes, fi[i]s at the very center of English social structurefl (270). 8 While I agree with his objection to Leech™s use of the term, Hutter™s qualification stresses a sentiment similar to Mast en™s, insofar as he does not employ the term ficultfl in order to fiundercut the importance of friendshipfl discourse in early modern culture, but to underscore its centrality and exaltation in th e period™s culture and li terature (270). Although he does not use similar language, Tom MacFaul, in Male Friendship in Shakespeare and His Contemporaries (Cambridge 2007), nonetheless notes the im port of friendship during the era. As MacFaul observes, an early modern fi[h]umanist ideology of friends hip trie[s] to make friendship the most important thing in the worldfl through c onsiderable discussion of the ideal and universal subject (1). Taken as a whole, Hutter, Masten, and MacFaul™ s observations demonstrate how, in this sense, cult refers to a fireverential homagefl or fiintense admiration–for an idea,fl to quote the OED once again, in a manner not far from Donne ™s praise of frie ndship cited in his correspondence and sermon (OED). 9 Additional scholarship on early modern culture readily affirms Hutter, Masten, and MacFaul™s claims of the significance accorded to friendship during the era. Indeed, as Daniel Lochman observes in the introduction to a recentl y published collection of essays on friendship, Discourses and Representations of Frie ndship in Early Modern Europe, 1500-1700 (Palgrave 2011), fithe period between 1500 and 1700 saw a flurry of worksfl devoted to the topic (2). A few 8 See Masten, fiTwo Gentlemen,fl 270. Accord ing to Masten, fiIn 1969 the word ‚cult™ might have lent friendship a sense of either/b oth the primitive Œ an fiearlyfl formulation that Leech implies Anglo-American culture has now progressed beyond Œ or/and the delusional (OED).fl 9 Compare to Hutter, Politics, 8-9. 9 examples of this enormous output, of which there are innumerable titles, include: Sir Thomas More™s 1516 fiOn a False Friend, fl Sir Thomas Elyot™s fiWonderfull historye of Titus and Gisippusfl in his 1531 Boke named the governour , John Lyly™s 1578 Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit, Michel de Montaigne™s 1580 fiOf Friendship,fl BK IV of Edmund Spenser™s 1594 epic The Faerie Queene , as well as a significant portion of Sh akespeare™s corpus, among which may be counted the1607 Timon of Athens , the 1613 The Two Noble Kinsmen, and the aforementioned 1593 The Two Gentlemen of Varona . Aside from these select literary titles, a host of explicitly didactic texts also take up the topic of friendship: Desiderius Erasmus™s 1514 Adages, Richard Edwards™ 1564 Damon and Pythias, Edmund Tilney™s 1567 The Flower of Friendship , the 1584 anonymously penned The Mirror of Friendship , Thomas Churchyard™s 1586 A Spark of Friendship, Walter Breme™s 1596 The Triall of True Friendship , and Francis Bacon™s 1625 fiOf Friendship.fl Lastly, a body of ‚vulgar™ or ‚Englished™ translations of classical texts on friendship are also produced during this era, namely those by Cicero ( De amicitia or On friendship ), Aristotle (The Nicomachean Ethics), and Plutarch (fiHow to Tell a Friend From a Flattererfl and fiOn Having a Pluralitie of Friendsfl). The presen ce of these disparate representations of friendship in an array of social settings such as th e classroom and the alehouse, as well as the stages in London, Oxford, and the Court, speak to what William C. Carroll characterizes, in his discussion of early modern curriculums and Cicero™s De amicitia , as fithe widening arc of transmissionfl of friendship in earl y modern culture (5). It likewi se offers further evidence of widespread dissemination of conceptions of fr iendship by Donne™s fimoral menfl and suggests that Carroll™s estimation how fianyone could have learned the essay™s basic insights elsewhere, from both elite and popular culturefl proves highly probable (5). 10 Since the publication of Laurens J. Mills™ exhaustive account of fithe friendship themefl in Tudor and early-Stuart literature, One Soul in Bodies Tw ain: Friendship in Tutor Literature and Stuart Drama (Principia 1937), early modern cultural studies have co me to recognize friendship and this fiflurryfl of material as a historic al and cultural phenomenon worthy of study (16). 10 Comprehensive in thematic scope, geographic ra nge, and interdisciplinary approach, and rigorous in their historicizing, many of these studies consider how early modern literature vexes the theoretical elegance of the era™s friendshi p discourse through an emphasis on practice. For instance, the edited collections of Laura Gowing et al, Love, Friendship and Faith in Europe , 1300 -1800 (Palgrave 2005), as well as Lochman et al, illustrate how friendship and love, perceived in England and on the Continent as intim ate, social, and political acts, reveal, to quote Lochman, fiemergent relationships within a unique early modern ideological and psychological frameworkfl (Lochman 2). Monographs by Alan Bray, Lorna Hutson, Laurie Shannon, and Ullrich Langer also historiciz e friendship and make similar cl aims as to its usefulness for examining relationships in a larger soci al context. Langer, for instance, in Perfect Friendship: Studies in Literature and Moral Philosophy from Boccaccio to Corneille (Librairie Droz 1994), demonstrates that the persistence of ficommonplaces of friendshipfl in early modern French literature and culture, along with its cultural capital during the era, is fruitful for understanding how period specific notions of ethics and filove move thr ough historical, theological, and political pathsfl in early mode rn England (13). Shannon, in Sovereign Amity: Figures of 10 Charles George Smith™s published dissertation, Spenser™s Theory of Friendship (Johns Hopkins 1935), is another early piece of criticism on friendship in early modern culture and literature. Unlike Mills™ publishe d dissertation, which performs an exhaustive historical, social, and cultural analysis of fithe friendship theme,fl Smith conf ines his study to BK IV of The Faerie Queene and mostly provides a list of proverbs from a broad range of period texts. 11 Friendship in Shakespearean Contexts (Chicago 2002), illuminates how paradigms of likeness, a core tenet of early modern frie ndship discourse, ficreate[s] a unit (e pluribus unum ) with its own experimental relations to agency and polit y,fl while Hutson, echoing Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, demonstrates, in The Usurer™s Daughter: Male Friendshi p and Fictions of Wo men in Sixteenth- Century England (Routledge 1994), that the representation of fiwomen as signs of love and friendship extended between menfl underscore an emergent recognition of friendship as both fieconomic dependency as well as an affective bondfl (1; 2-3). 11 Finally, in his posthumous study, The Friend (Chicago 2003), Bray examines how practices of fifriendship [serve] as the interpretive cruxfl for the history of the family, politics, and ethics in early modern culture (6). Bray magisterially shows how the ethics of fri endship, viewed from the perspective of fia capacity to love, and a desire to give,fl illumi nate polyvalent ideas of kinship and community during the era (7). Furthermore, Bray contends th at germane to this practice is fithe conviction [that]–the ethics of friendship operated only in a larger frame of re ference that lay outside of the good of the individual for whom friendship was madefl (6). Before advancing further, a brief synopsis of early modern friendship discourse proves necessary. As current scholarsh ip on the topic abundantly dem onstrates, the era™s discourse derives its conceptual framework from Latin a nd Greek sources on the s ubject, most notably Cicero™s De amicitia [On Friendship ], Aristotle™s Nicomachean Ethics , and Plutarch™s essays in the Moralia on flattery and having a multitude of friends. Drawing on these antecedents, and De amicitia in particular, early modern examinations frequently anatomi ze friendship through a distinction between, as Cicero terms it, fiord inary and commonplace friendshipfl in opposition to 11 See, Sedgwick, Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (Columbia, 1985). 12 a fipure and faultless kindfl (Falconer VI.22). Furthermore, these articu lations claim that what prompts the friendship limns the distinction between fifaultlessfl and ficommonplace, for instance, virtue and selflessness as regards the former, a nd selfishness and pleasure in the latter, as does unanimity between friends of characteristics such as likeness, benevolence, fidelity, and proximity. While early modern formulations of friendship bear a decidely clear Ciceronian influence, they are simultaneously an amalgam of other classical antecedents, namely Aristotle and Plutarch. Thus, it is important to briefly co nsider the unique formulations of friendship in these texts followed by their larger cultural, so cial, and political sign ificance during the early modern period. An Appeal to the Ancients: Classical Sources on Friendship While these texts each have their particular fo cus, (that is, for Aristotle, friendship as philia cultivates our ethos and the relationship we have with ourselves; for Cicero, friendship as amicitia cultivates our virtue and the relationship we have with the repub lic; and for Plutarch, friendship cultivates how we use frank speech or parrhsia to admonish our friends and have them repair their ethos and strengthen community), all ar e grounded in a common vocabulary of proverbs and tenets that early modern fr iendship discourse readily incorporates. 12 For instance, by the end of the era proverbs on friendship become, to quote Erasmus™ characterization of the form, fiwell known and in popular currencyfl (4). So me proverbs that circulate widely and shape a discourse of friendship include : fiAmong friends all things s hould be commonfl (Dorke sig. A4v), fiA freend– is another Ifl (Harington sig. G3v), fiOne soul in bodies twainfl (Elyot 2:122). 12 Ancient Greek does not have a word for ‚friendship.™ However, the word philia is synonymous with ‚friendship™ in ancient Greek te xts. Latin texts like Cicero, however, do have a word for friendship: amicitia. I elaborate below on the denotati on and connotation of these terms. 13 Indeed, as Robert Stretter notes in his examinatio n of friendship in mid- and late-Tudor literature and culture, fi[b]y the Renaissance, perfect friendship had become a rigorously theorized tradition with a canon of ‚laws™ set down in proverbs such as amicitia inter bonos (friendship [is possible only] between good men), amicus alter ipse (a friend is another self), amicorum communia sunt omnia (friends hold all things in common), and amicitia etiam post mortem (friendship extends even beyond death)fl (347). While self-abnegation and care for the other form the basis of fifaultlessfl friendship, self- interest and selfish desire typi cally function as the definitive characteristics of ficommonplacefl friendship. Aristotle, long credited for introducing the dichotomy of fiperfectfl and fiimperfectfl in theoretical discussions of friends hip (both of which, denotatively, ar e akin to Cicero™s fifaultlessfl and ficommonplacefl), anatomizes th e latter form of intimacy even further by making a distinction between fiimperfectfl friendships of utility and pleasure as well as friendships predicated on finatural affi nity,fl to quote Hyatte (3). 13 According to Aristotl e, friendships of finatural affinityfl are grounded in a ‚natural™ bond in species, family, or territory; thus, such friendships explain why two dogs form a companionship, why a mother loves her child, or citizens feel compelled to live harmoniously in thei r city-state. Consequently, finatural affinity,fl as Aristotle contends, illuminate s how concord is a universal pr inciple of the cosmos toward 13 It is important to note that these forms of friendship, rather than being discrete, almost always overlap. Indeed, a 1547 ‚vulgar™ translation of Aristotle™s Nicomachean Ethics by Thomas Wilkinson, amply demonstrates this th rough a discussion of friendships of finatural affinityfl and utility or finecessitie.fl Wilkins on acknowledges the necessity of friendships of utility because, as he notes, fino man [c]ould have al the goodes of the world to live alone–[i]t is a natural thinge to man to live citizenly a nd a necessary thing to a manne to accomplishe his business of necessitee by his neighbores and frendes, whiche cannot bee doen by himself. To do well it is a noble and delectable thingfl (72). 14 which all beings (human and non-human alike) ‚n aturally™ strive. Next, fiperfectfl friendship is presented as possible only between two i ndividuals, typically similar in goodness and ethos, formed after a fair passing of time (or fisharing a bus hel of salt,fl as he famously puts it), and self- sustaining in perpetuity. fiPerfectfl friends likewi se provide counsel, love one another for their goodness (not because of the pleasure or utility they present), hold posse ssions in common, and, similar to friendships of finatural affinity,fl are reliant on proximity. fiI mperfectfl friendship, on the other hand, can be between a great number of persons of different levels of goodness, are typically transitory and dissolve once one no longe r finds pleasure or utility in the other. These friendships tend to be superficia l, particularly since one loves the other not for their goodness or who they are, but for the profit or delectation they bring, a nd though they are still reliant on proximity, it is possible to form friendships over long distances. Despite the differences between fiperfectfl a nd fiimperfectfl friendships, where fiperfectfl friendships, by the very nature of Aristotle™s characterization, seem to be the best, he does concede that fiimperfectfl friendship is not entirely without its merits. Ind eed, Aristotle contends that fiimperfectfl friendships of either utility or pleasure can pot entially help one develop their ethos and character, and thus lead one to become a better friend and person. 14 Moreover, and perhaps most germane to the current study, Aristo tle makes an exception to this dichotomy of 14 Aristotle believed, according to Hyatte, that fiutility and pleasure are both necessary components of the highest order of philia because, first, the true friend needs to demonstrate his usefulness in order to be happyfl (19). Aristotle and Cicero, though not in entire disagreement, argued that this distinction & necessity was th e degree to which fimoral/ethical competencefl was fostered and improved through imperfect forms of friendship (5). There is much debate in classical sources re garding the necessity of imperfect friendships in relation to forging perfect affective bonds, particul arly fiin regards to the part that utility playsfl (Hyatte 5). Plato, various early Stoics, and the Epicureans believed imperfect friendship was the fiprerequisite to the ends of wisdom and happi nessfl of perfect friendship (5). Aristotle and 15 fiimperfectfl and fiperfectfl in the case of civic fr iendship, where self-interest, especially when tempered with measure and mean, is fiidentifie [d]–as an important means of achieving social concord–Just as imperfect individuals aid one another to grow in virtue, a morally sound political community seeks the good of fellow citizens by providi ng good laws that foster the virtue of justice,fl to quote Lochman et al (5-6). Thus, Aristotle™s emphasis on action in friendship, particularly in terms of character development and ci vic concord, are twin concepts that Cicero and early modern conceptions of fr iendship keenly incorporate. Indeed, Cicero™s De amicitia also foregrounds friendship in relation to the community, particularly the republic or fires publicafl, and this emphasis is readily embraced by early modern texts, such as Donne™s sermon, where friendship is aligned with the co mmonwealth and the development of the ‚good™ subject. Cicero, the Roman philosopher, political states man, and orator, best known, to students and scholars of early modern literature and culture, for De officiis (On duties ), a treatise on officia, that is, duties or fiobligations of role or relationship,fl to quote Melissa La ne, also proves to be the era™s foremost author ity on friendship. Indeed, both De amicitia and De officiis are perceived during the era, to quote T.W. Baldwin, as fithe pinnacle of mo ral philosophyfl (2:590). Both prove essential for education, as evinced fr om their extensive use in lower form education, university curriculum, and private study, and, just as important, both align with fundamental principles of early modern humanism, most notably its emphasis on the vita activa , or belief in an active life in service to th e commonwealth. As Jonathon Woolfson observes, the fipragmatic Cicero, though not in entire disagreement, argued th at this distinction & necessity was the degree to which fimoral/ethical competencefl was fo stered/improved through imperfect forms of friendship (5). 16 application–of classical learning,fl particularly th e belief that the self e nhances his service to a civic community through cultivation of a strong fimoral foundation,fl and vice versa, resonates with Cicero™s texts on duties and friendship (9). 15 In many respects, Cicero blends the ethical, social, and political dimensions of friendships similar to Aristotle; indeed, Cicero also emphasizes the four forms of friendship outlined by Aristotle (that is, fr iendships of finatural affinity,fl necessity, pleasure, and virtue), pl aces a strong emphasis on ethical self-love, where one must first befriend the self before befriendi ng others, and also reiterates many of the same tenets. 16 Lastly, the Roman term for friendship, amicitia , replaces the Greek idea of friendship 15 See Mills, 111 for how friendship appeals to humanism™s vita activa . For a succinct overview of republican virtue in De amicitia , see Hyatte, 27. For a thorough discussion of civic humanism in Tudor culture, see Jonathan Woolfson, fiIntroduction,fl Reassessing Tudor Humanism (Palgrave, 2002), 1-21. Despite the caution one should exercise in investing humanism with a broad ideologi cal program or philosophy, since, as Alastair Fox and John Guy remind us, it flattens sixteenth-century Eng lish culture, Woolfson nonetheless provides three reasons to consider Christian and civic humanisms as coherent projects during the Tudor era: (1) both embody an interest and concern in fisupplyi ng the practical skills and a moral formation appropriate to public lifefl; (2) both function as fia tool of other ideological purposesfl; and, (3) both reinvigorate and underscore the cultural differences betw een modern and early modern humanisms (4). See Alastair Fox and John Guy, Reassessing the Henrican Age: Humanism, Politics and Reform 1500-1550 (Blackwell, 1986), 1-76. Also see Markku Peltonen™s examination of the legacy of Roman republican ism in early modern English political thought, particularly in relati on to conceptions of vita activa : Classical Humanism and Republicanism in English Political Thought 1570-1640 (Cambridge, 1995). Mike Pincombe™s monograph on Tudor humanism is also enlightening, certain ly his sustained discussion of fiCiceronian humanitasfl (1). See Pincombe, Elizabethan Humanism: Literature and Learning in the Later Sixteenth Century (Longman, 2001), 1-36. Fina lly, Arthur Kinney™s Humanist Poetics: Thought, Rhetoric, and Fiction in Sixteenth-Century England (Massachusetts, 1986), 3-40 provides a succinct overview of early modern humanism. 16 Though he too talks about finatural affinit y,fl Cicero also remarks how men lacking moral discipline and commitment to obligations sh irk their ‚natural duties™ and thus are on the same level as animals fi[A]ll men are meant by natu re to have some sort of companionship one with another, and that the dept h and significance of this compan ionship varies according to the degree of relationship between them–. it is str onger between citizen and citizen than between 17 as philia, and with it, one™s relations hip and obligation to the poli tical community. While ancient Greek does not have a dedicated word for ‚friendship,™ philia is synonymous with it, and can best be defined, to quote Hyatte, fiat its broadest as the mutual goodw ill and the feeling of love or esteem that unite peoplefl (16). Latin texts like Cicero, however, do have a word for friendship: amicitia. In a strict sense (which early m odern texts render rather elastic), amicitia is not an affective relationship; rather it is predicated on duties to others, particularly the republic. As Hyatte succinctly observes, this republican as pect of friendship fiassu mes the subordination of the individual™s will and friend™s common will to the higher interests of the statefl (27). Konstan reiterates this characterization: fi[t]hough amicitia has a certain breadth of meaning–it does not normally designate love in general but rath er the specific relati on between friends ( amici) (122). As I shall demonstrate in the next section, discussions of the ficommonwealthfl and fi res publica ,fl terms which refer to the polity, common good, a nd private household, are embedded in early modern representations of friendship, particularly given its decidely Ciceronian flavor. Plutarch™s essays from the Moralia, particularly his essay on flattery, also proves of great importance to an early modern discourse of friendship. 17 Aptly titled, fiHow to Tell a Flatterer From a Friend,fl Plutarch™s essay focuses on issu es readily taken up by early modern texts on citizen and foreigner, between those who are re lated by blood than those who are notfl (Falconer V19). Cicero, explicating how certain men display a fiBeastlinessfl that belies their rational nature and duty to others (and reiterating an early modern interest in vanitas), notes: fiFor what is so trastlie, as to be delited with these many kynde of vaine thi nges, as honour, glorie, building, apparell, and deckeing of the bodie, and not marv eilousely to be delighted, with suche a mind endewed with vertue, as bothe can loue and yelde loue for loue againefl (Harrington sig. E2v). 17 A chapter entitled fiOn Pluralitie of Friendsfl in Plutarch™s Moralia addresses the problem of having more than one friend, namely, it lends itself to superficial relationships, jealousy, and flattering. However, Plutarch™s essay does not circulate as much in the era™s 18 friendship: flattery promotes self-l ove and retards the growth of one™s ethos ; flattery promotes social discord and paranoia; and lastly, flattery is antithetical to th e responsibility of the friend to boldly speak fitruth to power.fl Plutarch™s treatise on flattery and frank speech, taken from a miscellany of seventy-eight essays on ethics known as the Moralia, also proves influential to early modern English culture and friendship theories. Like De amicitia , the Moralia is used extensively in lower and highe r form curriculums to teach grammar and, more importantly, ethics, as T.W. Baldwin and Ma rtha Hale Shackford observe. 18 It likewise appears in a variety of social and textual en vironments, not only in the form of the advisor, such as Gaveston or Spencer Jr. to an oblivious Edward II, or Iago to the increasingly jealous Othello, but also, to an extent, in the form of the parasite, such as Paroles, Timon™s patrons, or the gentlemen of Dionysus™ court, Aristippus and Carisophus. As this brief overview of the predominan t influences on early modern friendship discourse has demonstrated, classical anteceden ts such as those by Cicero, Aristotle, and Plutarch, provide the basic vocabulary, concerns, and ideal ends of friendship. An implicit and recurring characteristic in all three is linking the social and moral code of friendship to both private, affective, fiachievedfl relationships be tween a few and public, fiascribedfl relationships between many occupying the same territory or space. For instance, Aristotle emphasizes moral friendship discourse like the essay on flattery or texts by Cicero and Aristotle. This is rather surprising, given that the text largely addresses how having too many friends can compromise concord. Indeed, Plutarch contends that having fia great multitudefl of friends is difficult, not only because one fican not make any certain acco untfl of them, but more importantly, one is unable to cultivate a deep and meaningful bond of intimacy due to the fact that fia man is not able to converse with them, nor to frame and sort with them allfl (Holland 224-5). 18 See Baldwin, 1:208-09; 1:406; 1:535; 1:540. Also see Shackford, Plutarch in Renaissance England, with Special Reference to Shakespeare (Wellesley, 1929), 22. 19 development and civic concord as twin concepts of friendship inextricably interrelated, while Cicero binds moral development and duties to the republic and claims that one™s relationship to the republic always trumps a ny friendship. Finally, Plutarch provides instruction on how to admonish the other so that the wayward friend may attend to both moral development and duties to the republic. Indeed, the ethical and political dimensions of friendship discussed by these classical antecedents occupy a central place in ea rly modern friendship discourse. Of particular import to the current study, which I shall now broa dly sketch, is the ethical commitment to the self and a larger community, id eas undergirding, as I shall dem onstrate in this project, early modern claims on both the necessity of friendshi p to the commonwealth and the obligation to fashion the self into a moral subject. Friendship and the Commonwealth As mentioned above, the call for self-regulation and moral imperative in early modern friendship discourse and practice emanates from a perceived necessity to harness friendship to a higher cause, such as the common good or a share d, moral code. Not only is this apparent in period representations and discus sions of friendship, but its inte rconnection with fidutyfl and the ficommon goodfl become evident when read alongs ide texts on the commonwealth (indeed, this overlapping theme of fidutifulfl and figoodfl brings the topic of self-fashioning in service to a community to the forefront). As Sir Thomas Smith, Elizabeth's ambassador to France from 1562 to 1566 and one of the writers informally known as ficommonwealth men,fl famously defines the commonwealth in De republica Anglorum (subsequently published as The common-wealth of England ): fiA commonwealth is called a society or common doing of a multitude of free men collected together and united by common accord and coveauntes among themselves, for the conversation of 20 themselves as well in peace as in warrefl (20). 19 In Smith™s definition of fia commonwealth,fl and largely in accordance with the period™s unders tanding of the term, sp ace is given to both governance and cohabitation. I ndeed, on the one hand, commonw ealth, as well as related appellations like ficommon weal,fl refer to domestic politics, in particular the responsibilities of government and fiits duty to provide for security, so cial order, justice, peace, and prosperityfl for all of its subjects, to quot e a recent study by the Early Modern Research Group (664). 20 In England, this refers to the governing structures of the polity, not only the monarch, but also the administrators comprised of fifree menfl from the ranks of the elite, thoug h Smith also includes in his taxonomy fiYeomenfl (someone possessing land va lued at 40s) and, to a lesser extent, fipoor husbandmen,–merchants or retail ers–copyholders, and all artificersfl who hold office (42; 45). 21 On the other hand, the term also refers to mass cohabitation of a co llective as well as the various social and domestic mores that correspond to finotions of the ‚commune™ or ‚community™ 19 R.G. Elton™s overview of early and mi d-Tudor ficommonwealth-men,fl although dated in its critical approach and confined to the era of Somerset, remains one of the best introductions and overviews, particularly how ethics and politics are inextricably intertwined in period conceptions of the commonwealth. See fiRefor m and Commonwealth-Men of Edward VI™s Reignfl in Studies in Tudor and Stuart Politics and Government: Vol 3, 1973-1981 (Cambridge, 2003), 234-253. Also see Whitney R.D. Jones, The Tudor Commonwealth (Athlone, 1970) as well as David Landreth™s introduction to The Face of Mammon (Oxford, 2012). 20 Members of the Early Modern Research Gr oup include Mike Braddick, Steve Hindle, Ann Hughes, Joad Raymond, Cathy Shrank, and Phil Withington. 21 See Smith, 46. Also see Harrison, The Description of England (Folger Shakespeare Library, 1968), 117. Sir Thomas Elyot, in the opening chapter of book one of The boke named the governour , is more hardline in his definition of the fipublic weal,fl a term he favors over ficommon wealfl due to the fact that the latter empha sizes an equality that Elyot sees as unrealistic when compared to the social reality of hierachies. See 3; 7. 21 of the realm of Englandfl (664). Here too, governi ng structures are vital, but rather than function as visible institutions where only a select group can participate, they broadly operate as secular and social habitus ; it is in this respect that fithe commonwea lth–act[s] as a language to articulate personal and public vices and virtuesfl (670). Fr equently, this dual-empha sis on the polity and social aspects of commonwealth merge, as ev inced by Le Roy™s definition of the fiCommon- wealefl, where fipubliquefl and fiprivatefl are give n equal place, along with fiprosperitie and safetiefl and a host of preferre d virtues perceived as lending themselves to the ficommon commodity, sufficiencie, discipline and honour of a Common-wealefl: But a Common-weale is the best of all co mpanies; therefore of all companies it hath the greatest and chiefest good: and that is the sovera igne felicitie or welfare, consisting both in the publique and in th e privat fruition of all kind of goods both of soule and bodie, and also of fort une. For that Common-weale is counted happie, which enioyeth a ll the three sortes of goods togither; the which to maintaine it selfe long time in prosperitie and safetie, it behooveth to be wise, mild, rich, just, mightie, friendly to it se lfe, and religious: wherein consist the common commodity, sufficiencie, disc ipline and honour of a Common-weale. (sig. C5r) The term, commonwealth has a rich history in England, as the Early Modern Group, Phil Withington, Whitney R.D. Jones, and others note. Derived from the fififteenth-century neologism ‚common weal™: a term of for the common good,fl it was frequently pictured as an organic 22 society in which members from all levels perform their divinely prescribed duty for the common welfare (EMG 663). 22 This latter characteristic of the ‚common good™, or fi bonum commune or bonum publica ,fl as Withington notes, originally focuse d on fithe good of human society in terms of the just and equitable distri bution of resources (m aterial and moral) a nd the preservation of those resources from various kinds of threats: external enemies, private interests, institutional corruption, and so onfl (139). It likewise emphasized the relati onship between local communities and larger political institutions and, as th e sixteenth-century was well under way, fithe obligations and reciprocities that communitas entailedfl (140). This is further compounded by the introduction of the term fi res publica fl in early modern political thought. The term, taken from Cicero™s lost work De re republica , emphasizes a political body pr edicated on common interests and the public life of subjects, including, their fiaffective obligationsfl toward their community and the larger body (141). However, it is importa nt to note that in the sixteenth- and early seventeenth-century, ‚common good™ is not synonymous with Cicero™s republic or a constitutional government. Equally important, an emphasis on the commonwealth in daily life did not plead for an eradication of social inequalities or subordi nation. Indeed, regardless of a tendency to argue for economic and spiritual equity, the ficommonwealth menfl emphasize the importance of social hierarchy. For instance, Th omas Lever, in a sermon delivered in December of 1550, declares such a sentiment through his em phasis that, in the commonwealth, fithere must nedes be divers me[m]bers [in order that]–in the come[n]wealth–diverse dueties of diverse 22 A few examples include: Thomas Starkey, A dialogue between Cardinal Pole and Thomas Lapset (1536) as well as Exhortation to the people, inst ructing them to Unitie and Peace (1536). Smith also draws on the organic metaphor. 23 necessarie offices be donefl (sig. B4v). In a similar manner, Sir Thomas Elyot, in The boke named the governour, claims subordination as key to a healthy (and godly) fiPublic Wealfl (1:7). 23 As Elyot contends, fi[w]here all things are common, ther e lacketh order: and where order lacketh, there all things ar e odious and uncomelyfl (1:7). Ho wever, as the sixteenth-century progresses, and enclosure, rack renting, usury, debasement of coinage, rebellion, vagrancy, and poverty emerge as serious issues, a group of writers from the mid- Tudor era (c. 1514-1558), known as ficommonwealth-men,fl address what th ey perceive as a link between a rapidly deteriorating society and an unscrupulous pursuit of profit for a few at the expense of many that increasingly left the commonw ealth fi[in]sufficiently furnishedfl and threatened the public welfare at large (288). Indeed, individuals su ch as Hugh Latimer, Bi shop of Worcester and eventually one of the fiOxford Martyrs,fl Thomas Starkey, humanist and political theorist, the Protestant clergyman Robert Crowley, Richar d Morison, humanist scholar and Henry VIII™s propagandist, and Sir Thomas Smith, proclaim a re turn to virtue as th e anodyne to social and moral ills. Moreover, as the sixteenth-century pr ogressed, and the death of Mary gives way to the ascension of Elizabeth I, writings on the comm onwealth continue to emphasize fithe cardinal necessity for good order and obedi ence within a hierarchal soci ety,fl to quote Whitney R.D. Jones, and expand to include fia concern for the nation™s security and destiny which [i]s politico- religious,fl as Patrick Collinson observes (34; qt d in Jones 34). It is against this backdrop and through this lens, particularly a period em phasis on the finecessity for good order and obedience,fl that early modern fr iendship discourse should be read. As I demonstrate in this project, early modern friendship discourse frequently overlaps with an emphasis in 23 See f.n. 19 for a brief explanation of why Elyot prefers the term fiPublic Wealfl over ficommon weal.fl 24 commonwealth discourse on the function of the fipolitke order,fl most notably its ability to fiknitte together in justice, te m[p]era[n]cie, modestie, and hone st libertie, one to helpe and comforte an another [and] oone to instruct and teach an other,fl to quote Richard Morison™s 1539 Exhortation to stirre all Englishe men to the defence of their countreye ( sig. B2r). Chapter Summaries The current project has much in common with recent emphasis on fiagency and polityfl in early modern friendship discourse by Laurie Sh annon and Alan Bray. Unlik e recent scholarship on the topic, however, I argue that the era™s discourse largely privil eges fashioning the self as an ethical and political subject while an emphasis on the friend is secondary. Furthermore, I contend that the prominence attached to self-fashioning in early modern literature and culture highlights the quotidian function of friendship as a didactic enterprise ideal for fashioning model subjects of the commonwealth. Indeed, Elyot, in a much often quoted passage from The boke, underscores this function of friendship narratives for his readership: fiWhiche example, studiousely radde, shall ministry to the redars singuler pleasure and al so incredible comforte to practise amitie (sig. A7r). The four chapters in this project acco rdingly examine how the emphasis accorded to contemplation, self-regulation, coun sel, and charity in representa tions of friendship repeatedly underscore one™s ethical and po litical duty to the self and others in the commonwealth. Moreover, as I claimed at the outset of this in troduction, each of these facets illuminate larger issues such as the realization of membership in a larger community; the importance of measure and mean to common well-being; the obligation to admonish community members when they fail to uphold a shared moral standard; and the n ecessity of social concord across various social classes. At the same time, regardless of the pe rceived utility of frie ndship discourse to the commonwealth and its subjects, pe riod conceptions of friendship demonstrate that the formation 25 of figoodfl and fidutifulfl does not proceed without cognitive, moral, and emotional struggles, particularly, as regards indifference, selfishness, flattery, and resentment Thus, each chapter provides a complex discussi on of how early modern friendship discourse illuminates subjectivity and self-fashioning, contains political ideologies, and gestures toward social concerns. In my examination of friendship, I focus on th ree social bodies: the self, other, and the commonwealth. In my opening chap ter, fi[L]ove we the frendful minde: The Politics of Self- knowledge in Tudor Friendship Pa mphlets and Richard Tottel™s Songs and Sonnets ," I read the printed pamphlets on friendship by Thomas Chur chyard, Walter Breme, and others, alongside selections from Richard Tottel™s printed miscellany, Songs and Sonnets , and texts that emphasize self-examination or finosce teipsumfl (that is, the Delphic command to fiknow thy selffl) by Thomas Rogers, Sir Thomas Elyot, Erasmus, a nd others. The import accorded to self-knowledge in poems and pamphlets on friendship, similar to the discussion of self- knowledge in religious texts, center on its ability to bring one closer to God and humanity by illuminating the fact that one is a political subject in a larger community. I argue the sentiment that self-knowledge fosters concord, where one learns to fash ion the self as a dutiful subject to God and man, takes on great significance in the miscellanies and friendship pa mphlets, certainly given the attempts of these texts to appeal to a shared, identity and subjectivity through the symbol of friendship. As I delineate in this chapter, c oncerns surrounding self-knowledge focus on the possibility of sedition arising from a lack of knowledge about one™s duty and obedience to the commonwealth. Indeed, Robert Crowley, in his 1550 The way to wealth , contends that a lack of knowledge about oneself obscures duty to God and the ficommone w ealthfl and ultimately encourages rebellion: fiThey know not themselves,...they regard no la wes (142). The surest remedy, as Crowley 26 commands, is to cast about the mind: and using fi knowledge that is godly / –[learn] al that thou shalt do:fl In fine, knowledge that is godly / Will teach the[e] al that t hou shalt do / Belonging to thine owne duty, / And other me ns duty also" (lines 1264-1268). Accordingly, this fiknowledgefl allows fievery true Englishman [to perform his] duty forth with [and] to employe his whole study to the removing so great an ev il out of so noble a realme and commone wealthfl (sig. A2r). In my discussion of self-knowledge, I demonstrate how Michel Foucault™s 1981-1982 Collège de France lectures on subjectivity and fithe care of the selffl prove particularly fruitful for an examination of early modern friendship. Fou cault™s lectures on the ficonnection between the care of the self with politics, pedagogy, and self-knowledgefl also prove insightful for an examination of the overlapping themes in friendship discourse as well as commonwealth discourse. The lectures, delivered after Foucau lt™s fiethical turnfl where he examines the fifreedomfl or agency accorded to self-fashioning, outlines three practices associated with the directive fiknow thy self.fl On a fundamental le vel, according to Foucault, the imperative fiknow thy selffl compels one to pr actice fia counsel of pruden cefl and to reflect on personal shortcomings or imperfections, while a sligh tly more complex connotation centers on fia methodological questionfl of what constitutes a self (35; 67). According to Foucault, the third, and inarguably most important, iteration of the imperative fiknow thy selffl in fiall its splendor and fullness [is the realization that] [c]are of the self must consis t in knowledge of the selffl (67). As I discuss in the next chapter, friendshi p discourse and writings on the commonwealth perceive self-love and the moderation of desire, or the ability to ficare for the self,fl to borrow a phrase from Michel Foucault, as key to the pr actice fiTemperancefl and fithe middle state.fl I again turn to the 81-82 Co llège de France lectures on fithe care of the selffl in antiquity. Focusing on conceptions of the self and self-study in Helle nic and Roman culture, along with its legacy in 27 modern thought, Foucault fisteps back a bitfl from the topic of fithe ques tion of the regimen of sexual behavior and pleasures in Antiquityfl addressed the previ ous year and broadly examines the ethics of self-fashioning (2). While he claims that it is a complex activity frequently difficult to delineate, caring for the self implies, firstl y, reflecting on how one is an emotional being, and secondly, recognizing and realizing the agency be stowed upon the self in forming this being. According to Foucault, a product of this realizat ion and practice concerns self-governance where moral beliefs and constraints illuminate one™s ethi cal identity and responsibilities not only to the self but to others. In my second chapter, fi‚I to my self am dearer than a friend™: The Problem of the Care of the Self and Care of Others in The Two Gentlemen of Verona fl, I continue the discussion of self- knowledge and duty in friendship through an examin ation of its disciplinary function. As texts on self-knowledge repeatedly claim, to quote Eras mus, fimoderationfl of pleasure and the ability to sustain a fimiddle statefl where self-regard and abnegation are balanced prove fundamental, although highly challenging, in social relationships at all levels. In this chapter, I read Shakespeare™s early comedy alongside pamphlets on friendship, period translations of Cicero™s De amicitia (Of friendship ), and treatises on the passions or ‚emotions™ like Thomas Wright™s The Passions of the Minde in Generall . A common concern in these texts revolves around loving the self in an ethica l manner and exercising will over pa ssions that cloud one™s duty to the commonwealth. As these texts contend, by learning to love the self ethically, one also learns to love others ethically, and thus be a dutiful s ubject to a wider community. Moreover, learning to use passions fistirred up for the service of vertuefl, to quote Wright, requires the ability to balance self-regard and abnegation through continual re flection and restraint. I argue the centrality afforded to self-reflection and measure and mean fosters a subjectivity deemed essential to the 28 cultivation of reason and discipline since it draws attention to the end toward which all actions should be directed in friendshi p: the commonwealth. As I show in this chapter, concerns surrounding self-love and temperance in friendshi p focus on the potential for disaster when one does not know the extent of their duties to th e commonwealth or, to quote Edmund Dudley™s 1510 The tree of commonwealth , how the firoot of truth or fidelity must fasten itself in the hearts of all subjectsfl and manifest in be havior that reflects one™s ‚proper™ place in the social order (qtd. in Jones 30). 24 The political and pedagogical aspects of car ing for the self also solidify communal relationships. Indeed, discussions in antiquity concurrently emphasize how taking care of the self is essential for the health of the polis and the wider community Œ Foucault, citing Plato™s Alcibiades, argues that this centers on promoting th e belief that one fihad to take care of himself if he wished to take care of ot hers laterfl (494). Likewise, Foucau lt contends that the care of the self, including its political and pe dagogical facets, is reliant on nume rous social relations to help guide it, such as fischolastic organizations,fl fipri vate counselorsfl and tutors, fifamily,fl patronage, elder relationships, and fifrie ndshipfl (497). This dependency on others underscores how fi[n]ot being able to take care of oneself without the help of someone else was generally an accepted principlefl (496). As such, contro lling one™s emotions b ecome more significant, since it not only curbs mental anguish but also helps fiproduce or induce behavior through which one will actually be able to take care of othersfl (198). While the chapter demonstrated how Tudor friendship discourse perceives caring for the self as a series of inward actions, such as emo tional awareness tethered to what Foucault terms a 24 Indeed, Dudley contends that when fidelity flourishes: "What friendship and confidence shall then be between men and men from the highest degree to the lowest.fl 29 ficounsel of prudence,fl one wonders how these di sparate materials simultaneously explore how the self convinces the other to take care of himself ( Hermeneutics 35). The obligation of the friend to admonish the other in order that he lear n to take care of himself proves a central claim in friendship discourse: friends must, to quote Pl utarch, fishew themselves–bolde to speake their minds and to finde fault, which it one of the be st and surest marks of true friendshipfl (84). However, a general concern of the potential of fiboldefl speech to do more harm than good emerges in discussions of frank speech between friends. Rogers notes how even figood intent–[may] cause infinite hurtesfl when one boldly speaks their mind to the friend: fiRashe counsaile, although sometime it maye have good inte nt,–hath evill success and is the cause of infinite hurtes both private and publikefl (Rogers sig. N4r). As I demonstrate in the next chapter, ear ly modern friendship discourse frequently presents a novel way to minimize fiinfinite hurt esfl or fidisplease[ure] while simultaneously allowing the friend to fibold[ly]–speak their minde.fl ‚Tactful antagonism,™ that is, provoking the other to become self-consciou s and critical by deliberately a ngering them, proves one of the best ways to convince the othe r to take care of himself. F oucault™s 1983-1984 lectures on frank speech or parrhsia help illuminate how the care of the self in early modern friendship discourse is often perceived as reliant on the antagonism of others. The fiethics of anger,fl a provocative idea Foucault raises but never elaborates in hi s 1983 Berkeley and 1984 Collège lectures on frank speech proves helpful in this investigat ion, Reading the overlapping theme of tactful antagonism in Foucault and early modern friendsh ip discourse illuminate how questions of how to use frank speech in order to ethically anger the other are linke d to period questions of how to cultivate and deploy one™s moral conscience for the benefit of the self and commonwealth. 30 As I demonstrate in my third chapter, the se nse of duty to heavenly and earthly authority that guides self-fashioning in friendship, and buttresses self-knowledge, also highlights the necessity to fashion speech. In the context of this chapter, fa shioned speech in friendship goes beyond the flatterer who manipulates others with rh etoric to include the tactful articulation of one™s conscience to preserve et hical bonds and duties in the co mmunity. In fi‚Speak what we feel, not what we ought to say™: Fr ank Speech and Tactful Antagonism in King Learfl, I read Shakespeare™s tragedy alongside Plutarch™s text on flattery and frank speech in friendship as well as period rhetorics on fiparrh siafl or frank speech. A common empha sis in texts on friendship is the obligation and pleasure in strongly rebuking the other when they fail to uphold a common moral standard. Frequently, friendship discourse st resses that one tactfully temper the fiplainefl reproach with rhetoric so as to increas e the probability the other will correct his ethos and realign it with the friend. I argue an emphasis on tactfu l rebuke in friendship pr actices privilege the ability to ‚tactfully anta gonize™ the friend in order to interv ene in the proces s of how others fashion themselves. The ability of subjects to discipline another pr oves paramount to the commonwealth, particularly because it highlights obedience to heav enly and earthly authority. It also diversifies the channels through which the characteristics of the ideal subject can be transmitted. However, concerns circulate as rega rds the practice of tactful antagonism, not only because it potentially disrupts social hierachies but also because it so closely resembles the very thing it supposedly combats: flattery. Finally, in fi Caritas and Female Polity in Amelia Lanyer™s Salve Deus Rex Judæorum fl, I examine themes discussed in earlier chapte rs (i.e., self-knowledge, temperance, and admonishment) through the lens of gender and cl ass. I read Lanyer™s volume of poems alongside representations of female frie ndship, such as those by Mont agne and others, as well as 31 discussions of charity ( caritas ) in sermons and transl ations of the Bible al ongside materials that stress the import of social concord among all stations in the commonwealth. Early modern culture and literature depict caritas , or friendship between the self and others mediated by Christ, as one way to cultivate private virtue and pub lic concord that surpa sses social divisions. However, Lanyer™s depiction of female friendship, where caritas supposedly levels social hierachies, proves problema tic. As I argue, divisions and faultl ines that are mostly class-based, along with visions of a lack of social mobility, pressure the utopian idea of friendship among women put forth by Lanyer as well as general di scussions of social conc ord among all classes in the commonwealth. Chapters one and four booke nd my project by establishing the import of duty and self-reflection; th e latter revisits earlier themes fr om the vantage point of gender and class. As a final note, it is important to address br iefly why this dissertati on does not discuss the sexual dimensions of early modern friendship Œ a dimension which one undoubtedly cannot deny (nor would they be wise to do so). I chose not to discuss this aspect for two important reasons: (1) this ground has thoroughly been covered by numerous scholars and it is my hope to examine early modern friendship from a different, yet e qually important, perspective; and, (2) following Bray and Mendelson and Crawfor d, while it is inarguably important to examine the erotic dimensions of friendship, it is just as important not to reduce human rela tions to purely sexual terms, not only because, to quote the latter, it fidevalues the non-physical or emotional aspect of women™s [and men™s] intense relationshipsfl but al so, to quote the former, fithe effect of a shaping concern with sexuality is precisely to obscure that wider framefl in which friendship can be viewed (244; 6). At the risk of promoting a reading of friends hip that represse s sexuality and 32 pleasure, I hope to demonstrate that Bray™s fiw ider framefl includes one™s moral identity and her perceived obligation to the wider body politic. Again, I think Foucault proves productive fo r this maneuver (even if it may appear somewhat ironic to those familiar with his work on fisexual austerityfl in volume three of The History of Sexuality ). Although a few studies of early mode rn literature and culture employ the care of the self as a theoreti cal frame through which to examin e a discourse of pleasure and desire, the topic of friendship has yet to be approached using ideas Foucault expounds upon in his Collège lectures. 25 Foucault™s thought after hi s fiethical turn,fl particul arly as concerns self- knowledge, the care of the self, and parrhsia, amply demonstrate how care of the self has broader applications and implications beyond pleasure or aphrodisia. 26 Though composed prior to the publication of the Collège lectures, Wolfgang De tel notes in his study of Foucault and antiquity that Hellenic and Roman thought situat es the care of the self, first and foremost, in relation to happiness ( eudaimonia) and virtue (arête) rather than pleasure and desire ( aphrodisia) (58). A broader meditation on the care of the self is perhaps most evident in classical discussions of friendship, since these texts typically construe friendship as the principle source 25 A general application of the ca re of the self, albeit derived from Foucault™s The Use of Pleasure, can be found in Michael Schoenfeldt™s study of inwardne ss in early modern literature and culture. 26 Alan Bray arrives at a si milar conclusion in his discussion of fimodern debatesfl of Renaissance friendship in purely sexual terms, 6-7. Heyking and Avramenko echo this sentiment through their clam that fiwe seem unable to underst and friendship and the act of sharing in terms that are neither romantic nor sexualfl (3). 33 from which arête and eudaimonia spring.27 Discussions of friendship in early modern literature and culture echo this sentiment of friendship as the wellspring of happiness and virtue and simultaneously expound upon ideas discussed by Foucault in his 1982 Collège lectures. Tudor translations of De amicitia, for instance, claim friendship is the definitive exam ple of fithe happy lifefl a nd that fivertue it is, whiche bothe engendreth and uph oldeth freendshipfl (Tiptoft sig. G5v; Harington sig. B6v). Erasmus, in the 1508 preface to the Adages, echoe s Cicero through his cont ention that friendship is fithe whole of human happinessfl while Thom as Churchyard™s 1588, A spark of frendship, claims fifriendship is a ring-leader to all happinessfl (15; sig. C2r). 28 Richard Edwards™ mid- century tragicomedy, the 1564 Dam on and Pythias, likewise envi sions friendship as ficonserved by virtue,fl and Nicholas Grimald, in his 1557 versif ication of De amicitia in Tottel™s Miscellany, observes how fiTrue virtue gets, and keeps a friendfl (line 44; line 6). While early modern theories of friendship, at their most eloquent, star kly divide friendship as either fiordinaryfl or fifaultless,fl that is, predicated on utility or pleasure as opposed to virtue, they also stress vigilance as regards its everyday practice (Falconer VI.22). As I show in this dissertation, early m odern friendship discour se largely highlights fashioning the self as an ethical and political subject while the frie nd per se remains of secondary concern. By adding to our understanding of early modern friendship discour se and the culture in which it is situated, I hope to demonstrate how it repudiates a common assumption that 27 Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism w ould be one exception. According to Zeno, friendship may lead to happiness but it is not a prerequisite for happiness. See Hyatte, 23. 28 Unless specified, citations of the Adages refer to Phillips. 34 friendship is primarily a private, selfless, a political affair separate from public life. 35 Chapter One: filove we the frendful mindefl: The Politics of Self-knowledge in the Tudor Friendship Pamphlets and Richard Tottel™s Songs and Sonnets Introduction: The Self as an Object of Study fi[A]mity and friendship is the greatest of all goods and commodities that any City or Common-weale can attaine and come unto & the most apt thing to defend them from sedition and uproars. And Socrates dooth highly extoll the uniting of a City, which in his opinion seemeth to be the worke of friendship,fl writes Roy Le Roy, the French humanist, in a 1598 ‚Englished™ version of his commentary on the Politics translated by John Dee ( Aristotles sig. L3r). Le Roy™s contention that friendship, as the foundation of so cial concord and unity, proves the greatest product of fiany City or Common-weal e,fl resonates widely in early modern friendship materials. For instance, Walter Dorke™s 1589 pamphlet, A tipe or figure of friendship , expresses a similar sentiment. Friendship, as Dorke notes in a pede strian observation, is the foundation of civil, religious, and ‚private™ life in the commonwealth: fias [T] ully [i.e. Cicero] testifieth, there is no gift given of God to man (Sapience only excepted) more agreeable to nature, more comfortable to the heart, more pleasant to the minde, or more profitable to a Publique wealefl (sig. B1v-B2r). Cicero, the Roman philosopher, po litical statesman, orator, and, during the early modern era, foremost authority on friendship, contends that although friendship is a bond which can never be severed once formed (it even extends beyond d eath, as he famously declares), one must nonetheless dissolve it when the friend commits an act that is fitreasonable,fl fidisloyal, or in violation of an oath, or unpatrio tic,fl or, as Harrington renders th is passage, fiagainst their faith, 36 against their othe, or against th e commonwealthfl (X 39-40; sig. D4r). 29 Dorke™s claim that fiif our friends conspire against the commonwealth, we ought to forsake them and also reveal them,fl resonates with Cicero and Crow ley and underscores, as I will show shortly, a period perception of the link between friendship and duty to the commonwealth (sig. A4v). The topic of sedition, which Dorke and Cicer o align with a failure to recall one™s obligation and duty to the republic, occupi es a central place in the writings on the commonwealth, including th e ficommonwealth men.fl Robert Crowley, in his 1550 The way to wealth, lays the blame of sedition, which he character izes as fia dangerous disease in the bodie of a commen-wealth,fl squarely at the feet of thos e who lack self-knowledge about their duty and place in the social hierarchy ( 131). According to Crowley, the gene sis of sedition arises from a lack of self-knowledge: since men fiknow not themselves [they naturally]–regard no lawsfl (142). As he contends in his didactic poem, The Voice of the Last trumpet , fiKnowledge that is godly / –[and teaches] thine own duty,fl according to Crowley, proves the surest anodyne to this fidangerous diseasefl of sedition: fiIn fine, knowledge that is godly / Will teach the[e] al that thou shalt do / Belonging to thine owne duty, / And other mens duty also" (lines 1264-1268). In a similar vein, Thomas Lever, in a 1550 sermon, declares that lack of knowledge about one™s duties fidestroy [both] the congregacion, the mi sticall bodye of Christ –& the come[n]wealthfl (sig. B4v). Drawing on the organic metaphor, as well as Paul™s fimany members, one bodyfl parable about the spiritual and earthly body of be lievers, Lever contends: fithere must nedes be divers me[m]bers in diverse place s, havinge diverse dueties. For as Paul saith: if all the bodye be 29 fiWherfore in frendship the absent be presen t, the nedie never lacke, the sicke thincke them selves whole, and that which is hardest to be spoken, the dead never dyefl (sig. C1r). 37 an eye, where is then hearing? or if all be an eare, where is then smelling? meaning therby, that if all be of one sorte, estate, & roume in the come[n]wealth, how can then diverse dueties of diverse necessarie offices be done?fl (sig. B4v). 30 Obedience to duty and community is the key to peace and prosperity in the commonwealth. Indeed, Richar d Morison, reformer and chief propagandist of Henry VIII, using language that echoes Cicero™s fiknot of friendship,fl declares that fiobedience undoubtedly is the knot of all co mmon weals, this broken they must needs run all headlong to utter destructionfl in his 1539, Exhortation to stirre all Englishe men to the defence of their countreye (sig. B2r). In this chapter, I read selections from Tudor printed miscellanies alongside early modern texts on self-knowledge and friendship. As I de monstrate, the pleasure accorded to self- knowledge in poems and pamphlets on friendship, si milar to the discussion of self-knowledge in a religious context that centers on its ability to br ing one closer to God and humanity, is depicted as strengthening one™s relationship with the commo nwealth. I argue that the sentiment that self- knowledge fosters concord and clarifies one™s memb ership in a larger co mmunity, most notably by stressing the need to fashion the self as a dutiful subject to God and man, proves central to representations of friendship in th e miscellanies and pamphlets. In these materials, the symbol of friendship is used to appeal to a shared identity and subj ectivity of the ficommonwealth.fl In order to expound on these claims, I divide my chapter into three s ections that examine self-knowledge as it relates to duty, moral self-fashioning, and co mmunal membership in general 30 See 1 Corinthians 12:12-27. fiFor as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that one body, being many, are one body–. That there should be no schism in the body; but that the members should have the same care one for another. And whether one member suffer, all the members suffer with it; or one member be honoured, all the members rejoice with it.fl 38 cultural texts, friendship materials, and printe d miscellanies of poetry. The first outlines the numerous ways in which self-knowledge, freque ntly represented as the Delphic imperative nosce teipsum (‚know thyself™), appears in early modern cu lture. This section focuses largely on texts by Sir Thomas Elyot, Thomas Rogers, Nicholas Grimald, and others, that align self-knowledge with the duties of the self in the commonwealth toward a spiritual and secular community. The second section demonstrates how ‚fri endship materials™ (a term I use to refer to a corpus of texts on the topic of friendship) stre ss the import of self-knowledge in fashioning the moral subject. Similar to the texts examined in section one , a host of texts on friendship by Elyot, Rogers, Richard Edwards, and others, envi sions self-knowledge as central to the formation of a spiritual and political subject. In this section, I fo cus on a collection of late-Tudor pamphlets on friendship by the Tudor courtier, Thomas C hurchyard, as well as works by the lesser known Thomas Breme, Walter Dorke, and the anonymous M.B. Having established the prominence attached to self-knowledge and th e commonwealth in thes e discourses, I turn in the third section to poems on friendship in the printed miscellanies. This section examines one of the earliest printed miscellanies of poetry, Richard Tottel™s 1557 Songs and Sonnets , and considers how it aligns self-knowledge and friendship with the formation of a moral subject tied to the commonwealth. In this section, I examine selected poems from Songs and Sonnets , most notably those by the humanist scholar Nicholas Grimald as well as various anonymous authors, and consider how accounts of the fif rendful mind,fl to quote Grimald, use friendship to emphasize the link between interiority and so cial concord. Conversely, I de monstrate how discussions of friendship and self-knowledge in these poems al so articulate a common anxiety posed to living an orderly life in established social hierar chies: particularly, the danger posed to the commonwealth when one does not know the self. As these poems demonstrate, harkening back 39 to cultural texts on self-knowledge, one™s inward self is perceived as inherently malicious, a threat to communal stability, and in need of self -discipline Œ a form of discipline best provided, as early modern texts frequently claim, by friendship. Thus, the im port ascribed to introspection in these materials finds its import in service to the self™s moral well-being as well as the ficommonwealth™sfl well-being. Before proceeding with this thesis, however, a brief review of current scholarship on self-knowle dge in early modern culture and literature is necessary in order to establish the broader import of examining self- knowledge to the field of early modern studies. As a topic of scholarly inqui ry, particularly as regards th e formation of the subject™s moral and ethical conscience, self-knowledge in early modern literature and culture has received some well-deserved attention recently. However, its relation to friendship, for the most part, has remained unexamined Œ one rare example is La urie Shannon™s brief discussion of the fiself- possessed integrityfl perceived to be crucial to friendship (56). As Rolf Soellner demonstrates in his erudite quasi-source study of self-knowledge in Shakespeare, the topic proves central to the era™s intellectual background, as evinced by a curs ory glance of grammar school texts, high and low theology, contemporary translations of cl assical philosophy and literature, conduct manuals, etc. A common concern in these texts, as Soellner observes, centers on fithe difficulty of knowing oneself, the obligation to improve the self, and the need to observe others in order to understand the selffl (3). Moreover, the rich variety of discussions of se lf-knowledge frequently produces overlapping claims as regards the end toward whic h it should be directed. For instance, in texts such as Thomas Rogers™s Anatomie of the minde , Sir John Davies™s Nosce Teipsum, Sir Thomas Elyot™s The Boke named the governour , and Nicholas Grimald™s translation of De officiis (Of Duties), the ultimate aim of self-knowledge ranges from developing greater knowledge of God™s majesty and the allegiance owed to him, to developing one™s ethos in order to live a morally 40 oriented life, to understanding how one may bette r serve the commonwealth and increase its prosperity. Regardless of poten tially conflicting or competing narratives of self-knowledge, however, a consistent claim thr oughout its discussion during the era centers on a utopian idea fithat man can control himself, limit his power, a nd even resign it voluntarilyfl in the service of something larger whether it be God, reason, or , as I demonstrate in this chapter, the commonwealth (459). In a manner similar to Soe llner, Deborah Harkness locates the fipopular injunction Nosce teipsum fl as central to early modern medi cal discourse, or what she terms ficultures of therapeuticsfl (171-72 ). As Harkness cogently argue s, these ficulturesfl promote a narrative of normativity through an emphasis on fithe patient™s subj ectivity Œ his or her embodied knowledge of the body or self Œ in matters of h ealthfl (171-72). Michael Schoenfeldt also focuses on the agency encouraged by se lf-knowledge in his study of early modern inwardness and the body, though he envisions it as po tentially liberating rather tha n, like Harkness, restrictive. Writing about how self-knowledge problematizes our assumptions of the fla ttening of the self™s agency, Schoenfeldt contends, fiallows us to see th at this self is far more than an effect of discourse, or the product of socio-cultural discou rses, institutions, and practices. Looking closely at these past discourses allows us to see what these individuals made of the materials of their culture, and their bodies, as well as what their culture and bodies made of themfl (12). Thus, for Schoenfeldt, Harkness, and Soelln er, self-knowledge in early mode rn culture raises questions about conscious self-fashioning and the influence of social and cultural forces. An enduring interest in the Delphic impe rative fiknow thy selffl across the sixteenth- century also reinforces the import recent scholars hip accords to interiority and discovery in early modern culture, particularly as it concerns a desire in the peri od to understand the ‚secrets™ or ‚truths™ of one™s heart. For instance, Elizabet h Hanson, in her work on early modern interiority 41 and subjectivity in drama, explores the era™s fitendency [in its legal, political, and religious discourses] to construe other people in terms of secrets awaiting discoveryfl (2). While Hanson focuses largely on how such an interest results in the objectification of the self by others, she nonetheless acknowledges how fiself-re flexiv[ity]fl encourages the se lf to become the fiobject of his thinkingfl (2). Katherine Eisaman Maus, in her magisterial examination of interiority and fiepistemological anxietiesfl expressed in the era™s drama, law, religion, and politics, focuses largely on fithe sense of discrepancy between ‚inward disposition™ and ‚outward appearance™fl (2; 13). While Maus limits her examination largel y to the objectification of the self by others, again, she likewise acknowledges a broad period re sponse that emphasizes a fitherapeutic [effect where]–self-knowledge despite its painfulness is invariably ameliorativefl (167). Indeed, she demonstrates how self-knowledge is a major topic of interest to dramatists such as Marlowe and Shakespeare, theologians like Daniel Dyke and William Perkins, as well as medical philosophers like Thomas Wright. Hanson and Maus™ examinations of the se lf perceived as a mysterious fiobjectfl necessitating self-study frequently appears in early mode rn discussions about membership in spiritual and earthly communities. For instance, the Anglican clergyman Thomas Rogers contends in his 1581 translati on of St. Augustine, that in order to comprehend God and fiknowledge of the truth,fl one™s enigmatic in wardness must come under close scrutiny (sig. D4v). As Rogers claims, it is important fifirst to know the self, and–both studie to be as thou oughtest to be and also amend that which is to be reformedfl (si g. D4v). As Rogers makes clear, self-knowledge supports both the discovery or fistudiefl of one™s inwardness and its improvement, fiamend[ment],fl and fireform[ation].fl 42 However, as the phrase fias thou oughtest to befl indica tes, a larger cultural frame guides both of these actions, and to assume that the fistudiefl and fireform[ation]fl of the self are inherently apolitical or untouched by culture w ould be erroneous. Indeed, in the next sentence, Rogers clarifies that the frame of reference that limns how one fioughtest to befl is one™s relationship with God, since fito knowe, and to love thy maker;–is [the essence of] al mans happinessfl (sig. D4v). Period text s repeatedly employ this line of thinking, where the frame of reference that instructs how one should fashion the self, or fioughtest to be,fl is explicitly based on the needs of a spiritual community. As I demons trate later in this chapter, this frame of reference also extends to the making of a nationa l community where fashioning the self after the model of an ideal subject aware of its duties proves paramount. fiThou shalt love thy Lord God–in all thy mindfl: Nosce Teipsum and Duties Erasmus Desiderius, in the 1508 edition of the Adages, an extensive collection of over three thousand proverbs and their philological histories, and itself a product of friendship, classifies fi Nosce Teipsum fl as fieasily the most famous of all the utterances of wise menfl (97). 31 Quoting a letter by Cicero, the learned Rotterdam clerk notes how this fiutterancefl is a clarion 31 Erasmus would later recount the origins of the Adages as stemming from a need to demonstrate his friendship with his patron, William Blount, the fourth Lord of Mountjoy. Returning to Paris broke after a lengthy visit to England, and ha ving Lord Mountjoy™s financial gift confiscated by English custom officials, Eras mus quickly fell to work on a project that would prove his fidelity and indebtedness, and, it should be added, generate some much needed income: fiI decided to publish something forthwith. Ha ving nothing ready at hand, I accumulated at random from a few days™ reading some sort of a collection of adages, guessing that this book, such as it was, might find a welcome among those who wish to learn, at least from its utility. This I used as evidence that my friendship had not grown coldfl (qtd. in Barker xi). By 1536, as Barker notes, the Adages include over four thousand proverbs (xviii). Erasmus identifies two other proverbs in the beginning of this entry as belonging to fithe most famous utterances of wise menfl: fiNothing to excessfl and fiStand surety, and ruin is at handfl (Baker 96). 43 call for introspection where one learns to balance self-love with humility and simultaneously temper acknowledgment of personal strengths with a need for considering others: fiAs for that famous Know thyself , you must not think it was uttered me rely to reduce our self-conceit; we should also recognize our own blessingsfl (97). 32 However, as Erasmus makes abundantly clear through a quote attributed to th e pre-Socratic philosopher Thales , such a venture toward self- knowledge proves arduous: fiThales when asked ‚Wha t is difficult?™ repl ied ‚To know oneself.™ Asked ‚What is easy?™ he said ‚To give another man good advice™fl (97). As I demonstrate in the following section, discussions of self-knowledge generally attribute its import to understanding the duties and prohibitions of a sp iritual community, which, in a wider context, also limns how the self, as a political subject , is bound to the earthly commun ity of the ficommonwealth.fl Furthermore, as I demonstrate later in this chapter, discussions of self-knowledge largely perceive the difficulty fito know oneselffl as st emming from the self™s sinful nature and predisposition to spurn order and earthly as well as godly rule. For now, however, it is important to examine how an array of text s takes up the question of how the self can best understand its responsibilities to a larger spiritual and political community. As stated toward the beginning of this chap ter, a rich body of litera ture during the period explores nosce teipsum from a variety of viewpoints and th us the perceived e nd toward which it 32 I think Erasmus has in mind Cicero™s recognit ion of man™s limited self-sufficiency as put forth in De officiis . Thomas Rogers, in an entry entit led fiOf Civill Friendshipfl in his Anatomie of the minde, summarizes Cicero™s ack nowledgement of the limits of self-sufficiency: finature hath not so made us, that of our selves we can doo all things without the aide of others, and no one is more apt to one thing then an ot herfl (sig. Aa1r). Cicero sees the unwillingness to help one another as one of the greatest threats to the Republic. See his claim in De officiis where, citing Plato, Cicero contends that fi[w]e are not born, we do not live for ourselves alone; our country, our friends, have a share in usfl (1:22). Also see Grimald™s Three Books, B2r. 44 should be directed often fluctuates . For instance, texts fiin the tradit ion of Cicero an d Plato [that] equate self-knowledge with the soul™s knowledge of itself,fl to quote Soellner, emphasize self- discipline and control of passions and lower appetites in order to shape the moral self as well as strengthen the rela tionship with God. 33 Texts inspired by this ou tlook include the 1599 poem fiNosce Teipsumfl by Sir John Davies, member of Parliament during the reign of Elizabeth and eventual Attorney General of Ireland under Jame s; the opening homily on the fimiserie of al mankindfl by Thomas Cranmer, Archbishop of Canterbury, in the 1547 edition of Certain Sermons; the 1576 A treatise of the immortalitie of the soule , by John Woolton, Bishop of Exeter; as well as the 1576 A Philosophicall Discourse, entitul ed, The anatomie of the minde by the Anglican theologian, Thomas Rogers (13). 34 Furthermore, Rogers™ insi stence in an entry that fiman [is] called a little worlde: because that with everie thing created of God, he hath some affinitiefl draws on a quasi-organic metaphor of man and the body politic in order to stress the 33 Thomas Wright™s 1601 The Passions of the minde in general is another important work that equates self-knowledge with self-discip line. I discuss Wright™s te xt in my next chapter on self-discipline and fithe care of the selffl in early modern friendship discourse and Shakespeare™s The Two Gentlemen of Verona. In a similar manner, Sir John Davies, in his 1599 poem on the immortality of the soul and man™s innate depravity, urges one to use this utte rance as a guide to live a morally upright life. Davies contends (somewhat ironically) that hi s contemporaries, largel y prompted by ‚the new learning™ of humanism, focus on examining the natural world at the expense of their inward moral and spiritual condition: fiAll things withou t, which round about we see, / We seeke to know, and have therewith to do: / But that whereby we reason, live, and be, / Within our selves, we strangers are theretoofl (lines 89-92). In a manner reminiscent of Erasmus, Davies exhorts one to study the self in order to foster self-consciousness and, diverging slightly due to his Calvinist leanings, to clarify whether one is of the elect or repr obate: fiMy selfe am Center of my circling thought, / Onely my selfe I studie, learne, and know fl (lines 167-168). 45 import of developing one™s moral self to a political community (sig. Aa1r). 35 Indeed, similar to the use of the organic metaphor in texts by the ficommonwealth menfl like Sir Thomas Elyot, where the fiPublic Weal is a body living composed of many and sundry degrees of men–and governed by the rule and moderation of reason,fl Rogers claims that self-knowledge helps one cultivate fimoral vertuesfl in order to fiwish wel unto all men [as]–provoked unto by the rites, lawes, and customes of our C ountrie, or otherwise by any comm on thing to all menfl (1; sig. Z8r). Moreover, Rogers draws a connection betw een self-knowledge, fimor al vertues,fl and the tendency to fiwish wel unto all men,fl by explicitly stating, via a reading of De amicitia , how those lacking self-knowledge c ontribute to the dissolution of the commonwealth, claiming, fithose citizens whiche will not wi llingly helpe one another, doo in that which in them lieth, go about to overthrowe the common estate of a co mmon weale, and to disturbe the fellowship of this lifefl (sig. Z8r). In this vein, texts such as Cicero™s Paradoxa Stoicorum, translated by Thomas Newton in 1569 (who, coin cidentally, also translates De amicitia in 1577), echo a sentiment of self-knowledge as a necessary step in the development of agency and fivertuefl (sig. C6v). Moreover, it likewise presents self-knowle dge as colored by a cert ain pragmatism to be fiobedient to the Lawes, not for feare, but because [one] thinketh it to be a thing expedientfl (sig. 35 Also see Woolton™s 1576 A New anatomie of whole man ; Richard Carew™s 1594 translation of Juan Huarte de San Juan™s Examen de ingenious: The examination of mens wittes ; and Stephen Gosson™s 1585, Playes confuted in five actes. John of Salisbury™s medieval text, Policratius provides the model for the fiorganic metaphor.fl See Policraticus I-IV (Brepols, 1993). Paul™s le tter to the Corinthians in 1 Corinthians, in which he attempts to allay in -fighting and division by drawing attention to the unifying power of caritas (i.e., friendship between self and others mediated by Christ), is another example where self-knowledge corresponds to th e self™s participation in both heavenly and earthly communities. I discuss caritas at length in my final chapter on friendship and female polity in the poetry of Aemilia Lanyer. 46 C6v). Texts composed according to this outl ook in Rogers, Elyot, and Cicero perceive knowledge of God and the soul as corresponding to knowledge of the social hierarchy in the political community and the se lf™s status as a subject. As evinced by pedagogical texts used wide ly in grammar school, as well as private letters, nosce teipsum , is perceived as the crux of the self™s moral development and general social concord. For instance, the Sententiae Pueriles , one of the earliest book s students encounter in grammar school, and extremely popular in both Tudor and early-Stuart classrooms, includes fiKnow thy selfefl and fiDwell with thy selfefl as tw o of its introductory lessons fifor the first young beginners of: the Latine tonguefl (sig. B1r; sig. B3r). 36 Moral instruction contained in the reader, such as fiFollow after concord,fl fiMen are governed by wisdome; not by their strength,fl and fiExercise temperance, [or moderation],fl appear, in one form or another, in a variety of texts that stress self-knowledge (sig. B2r; sig. F8r). In a similar manner, Sir Philip Sidney™s private correspondence with friends argues that fiknowledge of ourselvesfl assists one in fiseek[ing] what is to be truly just, truly valiant, rightly te mperate, and rightly friendlyfl (213). Moreover, according to Sidney, fithe Holy Scriptures–[as] certa inly the incomparable lantern in this fleshly darkness of oursfl also illu minates how one fioughtfl to form his moral being (212). 37 In An Apology for Poetry , he also clarifies the impor t that self-knowledge give way to action, or, as he eloquently puts it, fithe knowledge of a man™s self, in the ethic and politic consideration, with the 36 See Baldwin, I.581-606. It should be noted that the theme of friendship dominates the text. In fact, some of the first lessons empha size friendship and include fiHelp [thy] friendsfl, followed closely by fiProve [thy] friendsfl, and fiUse thy friends.fl See sig. B1r. 37 See his letter to Edward Denny dated May 22, 1580. 47 end in well-doing, and not of well-knowing onlyfl (70-71).38 Perhaps one of the best places to turn in order to find self-knowle dge aligned with the commonwealth can be found in Sir Thomas Elyot™s seminal 1531 text on education, moral training, and governance, The Boke named the governour . It is here that a discourse of self- governance informed by understandi ngs of heavenly and earthly pol ities can be seen. Likewise, his general conception of self-knowledge and govern ance emphasizes a fashioning of the self as a moral and political subject that Reformati on discussions of friendship will later address.39 Writing about fiReason, Society, and Knowledge ,fl Elyot, an accomplished humanist scholar and, for a brief period, clerk in Henr y™s Privy Council and di plomat, contends that fiknowledge of Justicefl, which he defines as th e fiLaw of Godfl (and aligns with sovereign authority in the beginning of Book Three), co rresponds to the self ™s place in earthly communities. 40 As Elyot contends, quoting Matthew 22: 37-40, the duty of the self to God limns the self™s duty to others: fiSociety was first orda ined of God, and is of such authority, that the only Son of God, being demanded of a Doctor of Law, which is the great commandment in the Law of God, answered: Thou shalt love thy Lord G od with all thy heart, and in all thy soul, and in all thy mind: that is the first commandment. The second is like unto th e same: Thou shalt love 38 Sidney restates this toward the end of the next paragraph, where he excoriates philosophers and scholars, as a reminder that one™s ethos fiextends itself out of the limits of man™s own little world to the government of fam ilies and maintaining of public societiesfl (71). 39 The enduring popularity of Elyot™s Boke in post-Reformation England, particularly his discussion of friendship, must be noted. 40 See fiChapter I: Of the Noble and Most Excellent Vertue Named Justicefl, 165-66. 48 thy neighbor as thyselffl (173).41 Moreover, according to Elyot, knowledge of the fiLaw of God,fl coupled with loving him fiin all thy mind,fl allows the self to control sinful pleasures and lowly appetites that might disrupt peaceful society. Inde ed, knowledge prevents the self from fifoolishly apply[ing] himself to the nature of creatur es–embracing sensualityfl rather than a publicly- oriented virtue (173). Knowle dge also encourages empathy, wh ich in turn, lends itself to fiSociety and Benevolence, [rather than] w illfulness and malice, and–blind ignorance and forgetfulnessfl (173). According to Elyot, fiNosce te ipsumfl prove s the best method to love God fiin all thy mind,fl and additionally, the surest way to cult ivate inwardness, social concord, and fiJusticefl (174). He contends that this fibrief sentence–d eclareth by what means the said precepts of reason and society may be well understood, and thereby Justic e finally executedfl (174). In a manner similar to his thoughts on friendship, the practice of fiNosce te ipsum, which is in English, know thyself,fl contains the whole of human experience, particularly its moral and ethical foundation (174).42 According to Elyot, through th e act of self-investigation and disclosure one comes to know God, fireason and socie tie,fl as well as fithe residue of Justicefl and how to fiexecute itfl (203-204). More broadly, he argues that self-knowle dge advances social concord and empathy insofar as it reveals to the self its inward and outward condition and 41 See Naomi Tadmore for a discussion of how the moral dimension of neighborliness becomes instrumental in promoting communal cohesion and reproduction. See The Social Universe of the English Bible: Scripture, Society, and Culture in Early Modern England (Cambridge, 2010), 23-49. 42 See 161-186, fiXI: The true discription of amitie or frendship" and fiXII: The wonderfull history of Titus and Gisippus, and whereby is fully declared the figure of perfet amitie.fl 49 promotes a universalism so that, fiin knowing the condition of his s oul and body, he knoweth himself, and consequently, in the same thing he knoweth every other manfl (175). However, the equality claimed by Elyot through the act of self -knowledge does have its limits, and he is keen to clarify that fithe inferior pe rson or subject ought to consider–[ as concerns] the disposition of reason, be not every man equal,fl and that the self is in need of fia Gover nor, or leader, toward whom all the others have a vigilant eye, aw aiting his signs or toke ns, and according thereto repairing themselves most diligentlyfl (176-77). Thus, for Elyot, the import of fiNosce te ipsumfl is how it fundamentally reminds the self of the need to accord to a prescribed set of communal rules and conditions of the commonwealth: fithis se ntence, know thyself, wh ich of all others is most compendious,–induceth men sufficiently to the knowledge of Justicefl (177). In a similar manner, Nicholas Grimald, humanist scholar, lecturer of rhetoric at Christ Church, Oxford, purported co-editor of the first edition of Tottel™s, and controversial convert to Catholicism, aligns self-knowledge with the form ation of the moral and political subject in his 1556 translation of Cicero™s De officiis (also known by its Englished title, Cicero™s Three Books of Duties ). 43 Cicero™s exhaustive treatise on officia or duties, understood broadly, as Melissa Lane notes, as the fiobligations of role or relationship–attached to someone in virtue of a distinct persona (as father, consul, neighbor, etc.)fl, is perc eived during the era, to quote T.W. Baldwin, 43 As Arthur F. Kinney notes, Grimald was fi[s]ympathetic to the Reformation,–but when jailed under Mary Tudor™s government he pr udently reverted to Catholicism and gained a reputation for at best, timeserving, and at worst, treacheryfl (311). Suspicions that Grimald may have informed against Nicholas Ridley, Bishop of London, and eventual martyr, only added to perceptions of his fitreachery.fl See Kinney and David W. Swain, Tudor England: An Encyclopedia (Garland, 2001), 311-312. It is assumed that this is why texts authored by Grimald, including his poems in Tottel™s , drop his name and use the initia ls N.G. after 1557. Also see R.L. Merrill, The Life and Poems of Nicholas Grimald (Yale, 1925) as well as Holton and MacFaul, xx-xxii. 50 as fithe pinnacle of moral philo sophyfl Œ indeed, Elyot recommends it as essential reading for young gentlemen along with Aristotle™s Ethics and the complete works of Plato (Lane; 2:590). 44 Grimald, in a manner reminiscent of Roger Ascham and Elyot, identifies the moral instruction of De officiis, particularly fihow to live among men discreetly and honestly ,fl as on par with the holy fiScripturefl: fithe bokes, that of duties be wr itten, by Marcus Tullius Cicero: a mater conteining the holle trade, how to live among men discreetly, and honestly: and so rightly pointing oute the pathwaye to all vertue: as none can be righter, onely Scripture exceptedfl (sig. A3v).45 While Cicero contends that four kinds of virtue frame a persona™s obligation (fiwisdom, justice–, greatness for spirit, a nd decorumfl or, as Soellner term s them, fiprudence,fl fijustice,fl fifortitude,fl and figreatnessfl), decorum and ethical behavior prove central to Grimald™s discussions of self-knowledge as we ll as more general discussions of nosce teipsum in early modern culture (Lane; 11). 46 Grimald interprets Cicero™s insi stence on decorum, where fieverie ma[n] therefore [must] know his owne dispositio n, and–make himself a sharpe judge both of his vices and his vertues,fl as synonymous with the imperative fiKnow your self efl (sig. F5r). Indeed, the ability of the self to reflect on his faults and merits, as Grimal d demonstrates in the preface to 44 See Elyot 1: . As Lane observes of virtue in De officiis , fisome virtues are rooted in one™s persona as a human being subject to natural law, others in the specific roles and customs of one™s city.fl 45 See Baldwin 2:585-86. 46 Soellner distinguishes between two forms of decorum in De officiis: fidecorum generale and speciale fl (12). The former concentrates on the regulation of base appetites in order to separate man from animal. The latter concerns the regulation of moral defects and strengths. See 12-13. 51 the reader, is a continual process that impresses on fius the best ende, to use ourselves well and worthylyfl (sig. A5r). Accordingly, frequent reflection on how fito use ourselves wellfl encourages the cultivation of an ethos that illuminates ‚proper™ condu ct of the self: fiour dutie shall wee do best: if we empl oye the using of ourselves to deedes, that be honest, & co[m]me[n]dable–. For whether we be doing somw hat, or at rest: whether wee abide in the countrey, or in the citie: whether we be occupied in ernest, or in game: no pawse ther is at all, but night & day we use ourselves continuallyfl (sig. A6r). Moreover, knowledge of what constitutes a morally oriented life, as well as how best to achieve it through the fius[e] of ourselves through deeds,fl extends to ‚proper™ conduct or obligations towards others. In this sense, knowledge of self-governance also limn duties toward a larger community. To illustrate this point, Grimald uses the family and fiholle commonsfl or commonwealth: Now, when a man is so enstructed with philosophie: that he can full co[n]uenie[n]tly live sole, & at pointe devi ce by himself: he must be brought forth abrode into the face of the worlde: to th e intent he may procure, not onely that becomes himself to do, but also the welth of other folke. He must remember the three folde state, & diversitie, that he hathe espyed, & practised in himself [i.e., how to live, behave, and observe moral obligations] and must trans[f]erre the same to the governau[n]ce bothe of his housholde privatlie, and of the holle commons openly. (sig. A3r) Thus, for Grimald, self-knowledge fosters the fa shioning of the moral self as well as the prosperity of the fiholle commons.fl As Grimal d makes explicit in the dedication to Thomas Thirlby, Bishop of Ely, pa rt of the impetus behind his reason to fienglishfl De officia is fichiefly for our unlatined people–[to] br[ing] into light th at from them so longe was hiddenfl (sig. A3r). 52 Indeed, Grimald chooses to fienglish–a boke used but of few,–so that our me[n], understa[n]ding what a treasure is amonge them, fo r the fashioning of their life,fl can improve the commonwealth and their ethos simultaneously. Similar to his di scussion of duties, where self- governance fimust [be] trans[f]erre[d]–to the gove rnau[n]ce both of [the] householde privatlie and of the holle commons,fl Grimald envisions self-knowledge as ultimately strengthening a glorious fination give[n] to civilitie & human itie [and]–beeing by nature most of all other nations give[n] to civilitie, & humanitie: whe[n] they shall be aided & di rected by these perfite percepts, may, in all pointed of good deameanour , beco[m]e people peerlessfl (sig. A3r). While the aim of self-knowle dge in each of the above exampl es varies from modesty and self-affirmation, to knowing God and the condition of one™s soul, to social concord and empathy, to strengthening the self™s moral identity a nd the commonwealth, the centrality accorded to inwardness and ethos remains fairly consistent throughout Erasmus, Rogers, Elyot, and Grimald. Indeed, all these texts construe self-knowle dge as the basis of self-consciousness and subjectivity, and all three implicitly align this basis with one™s emergi ng ethical and political identity. Moreover, while self-knowledge is emphas ized in religious writings of the period, or at best, demonstrates a decidedly religious influence in discussions of one™s inwardness, as is the case with Sidney™s letter, as well as concord, as evinced by Elyot, it is also a central component of early modern friendship discourse. 47 As the next section demons trates, friendship materials stress the import of self-knowledge in fashioning the moral subject . Similar to the texts examined 47 Both the Old and New Testament are rife with instances of self-knowledge. See, for instance, Psalm 34, which Fields characterizes as fiexercises in self-examination,fl as well as I Corinthians 13:5, Matthew 7:3, Luke 6:41, Luke 17:22 (18). 53 in the above section, a host of texts on friends hip by Elyot, John Lyly, Richard Edwards, and others, envision self-knowledge as central to the formation of a spiritual and political subject. Self-knowledge in Early Mo dern Friendship Materials In this section, I explore how early modern ‚friendship materials™ (that is, the numerous texts devoted exclusively to th e topic of friendship such as contemporary pamphlets, sermons, treatises, poems, drama, pr ose fiction, and translations of classical expositions) stress the import of se lf-knowledge in fashioning the moral and political subject. As I demonstrate, early modern texts on friendshi p align self-knowledge w ith the development of one™s inwardness, which, in turn, is equated with the ‚healthy™ maintenance of the commonwealth. Indeed, these materials place significant emphasis on the contribution of friendship to the stability of the commonwealth ev en while they simultaneously claim it to be an apolitical social relationshi p. As such, friendship materials collapse the supposed difference between the moral and political subject, as well as the micro and macro function of friendship, by emphatically demonstrati ng how the moral subject is the political subject. Similar to Elyot™s contention that self-knowledge advances soci al concord through an appeal to a universal subjecthood and spiritual condi tion, friendship materials freque ntly represent the didactic function of self-knowledge as th at which illuminates a universal ethos and foundation to any ‚natural™ and orderly life. In many respects, such a claim ma de by early modern friendship materials echoes Grimald™s disc ussion, in his translation of De officiis , of how the se lf must learn fito use ourselves well and worthlyfl for their own be nefit as well as that of the fiholle commons.fl The topics around which views of self-knowledge are assembled in the texts discussed in the previous section also surface in early modern friendship materials. For instance, John Donne, in a 1598 verse letter to Sir Henry Wotton, aptly titled, fiTo Sir Henry Wo tton,fl contends that 54 friendship teaches the import of self-knowledge and inwardness, particularly the palliative aspect of caring for one™s ethos: fiBe then thine owne home, and in thy selfe dwell; /– Be thine owne Palace, or the world™s thy goalefl (line 47-52). In a letter to Sir Henry Goodyer (c. 1620-1621), a member of the early-Stuart Parliament, Donne writes about his fisecond religion, friendship,fl and in another letter to Goodyer in the same period, he invests fri endship with a religious value in order to illuminate its inward and outward in fluence on the self: fifriendship–which hath in it so much divinity, that as we must ever be equall y disposed inwardly so to doe or suffor for it, so we must sepose some certain times for the outw ard service thereof, thoug h it be but formall and testimoniallfl (letter XLV and XXIV). 48 In a similar manner, religious discourse colors discussions of inwardness and self-knowledge in pamphlets on friendship, as evinced by Thomas Churchyard™s characterization, in his late-Tudor pamphlet, of fifriendshippe [a]s a certaine felicitie of the minde, a sweete insense that bu rnes before Godfl (sig. C2r). As Walter Breme demonstrates in his 1584 pamphl et on friendship, one may locate th is pleasure or fifelicitiefl in the act of self-knowledge and mora l improvement. Indeed he urges the reader fioften to examine thy selffl and reflect on the leve l of command or degree of fitemperancefl of emotions such as 48 The relationship between friendship and letter writing is a topic that merits further examination. While scholars such as Constan ce Furey have examined the textual exchange between individuals like Erasmus, More, and Gile s, a sustained examination of letters by other writers and humanist scholars me rits consideration. It would be most interesting to examine collections of private letters made public du ring the era and marketed toward a general readership, such as those of More, Sidney, a nd Donne. On Donne, letter writing, and friendship, see Ramie Targoff fiLettersfl in John Donne, Body and Soul (Chicago 2008), 25-48. Also see Ted-Larry Pebworth and Claude J. Summers, fi‚T hus Friends Absent Speake™: The Exchange of Verse Letters between John Donne and Henry Wotton,fl Modern Philology Vol 81.4 (May 1984), 361-377. On Erasmus, More, and Giles, see C onstance M. Furey, fiTriangulating Humanist Friendship: More, Giles, Erasmu s and the Making of the Utopia,fl in Lochman et al (Palgrave 2010), 45-64. 55 ficlemency,fl fipatience,fl and fihumanityfl in order to improve one™s ethos and serve as a model for others (sig. B8v). John Lyly, in his highly popular 1579 Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit, has an old gentleman of Naples instruct the titular character to meditate on his ethos lest he fall into eventual moral ruin: fiDescend into thy own c onscience and consider with thyself the great difference between staring and star k-blind wit, wit and wisdom, l ove and lustfl (37-38). As these examples demonstrate, and the plays of Lyly, Marlowe, and Shakespeare reiterate, moral improvement is continually gr ounded in the twin practice of self-knowledge and friendship. 49 Likewise, friendship and self-knowledge are frequen tly invested with a certain religiousness in friendship materials, of which the most notable would be the original s ource of inspiration as well as its ultimate end. While materials acknow ledge limited knowledge about the internal workings of an emotional experience like friends hip, which, as one pamphlet contends, is fiso secrete a mysterie (shrined in an honest hart) th at few can describe it and tel from whence comes the privie and inward aff ection,fl they nonetheless frequently clai m divine origin as the source of friendship (sig. C1v). Indeed, as Grimal d contends in his versification of De amicitia , friendship is a fiheavenly giftfl (line 10). Ot her materials make a similar clai m of friendship as a figift given of God to man,fl such as the friendship pamphlet of Walter Dorke, but add that it is a gift whose end is directed toward the public good and fiprofit to a Publique wealefl (sig. B1r). While numerous texts distance the practice of friendship and self-knowledge from 49 In addition to Lyly™s Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit, his court drama Endymion also links friendship with self-knowledge. Shakespeare™s The Two Gentlemen of Verona, The Two Noble Kinsmen, King Lear, Timon of Athens are just a few of the many titles that explore this relationship between self-knowledge and friendship. Also see Marlowe™s Edward II and Dr. Faustus. 56 worldly, political affairs, such as that of D onne, who in his poem to Wotton claims that the affairs of country, city, or court result in estrangement from the self (e.g. fiI think if men, which in these places live / Durst look for themselves, and themselv es retrieve, / They would like strangers greet themselvesfl), other friendship materials explicitly connect self-knowledge and friendship to the formation of the political subject and, what ™s more, the stability of the commonwealth (lines 43-45). For instance, Richard Edwards, lecturer at Christ Church, Oxford, poet, playwright, musician, and likely editor of The Paradise of Dainty Devices (the second anthology of English poems printed in 1576), claims in his 1566 tragicomedy, Damon and Pythias, that friendship fiframes the mind of ma n, all honest things to dofl and that fiThe strongest guard that kings can have / Are cons tant friends their state to save fl (16.25). 50 In a similar fashion, Churchyard, in his 1588 pamphlet, A sparke of frendship and warme goodwill declares that self-knowledge and friendship limn one™s duty to the commonwealth, particularly maintaining its stability as well as advancing common welfare and good: fiman is not made for himself, created to be king of earthly delights, and placed amidst the pleasures of the worlde, to doe what he pleaseth, but chiefly to looke and wi th good aduisement to search, how and in what sort he may be duetiful and be neficiall to his countriefl (sig. B2r). Leroy, in a similar vein, 50 Edwards™s play is performed before Elizab eth at Oxford in 1566 and in this context the presentation of friendship takes on an even greater political significance. Indeed, in the fiLast Songfl alluded to above, Edwards demonstrates how the fashioning of the moral self is also the fashioning of the political self. In this song, which is printed in its entirety in the first edition of 1571, as well as all subsequent editions during the era, Edwards underscores the duty of the subject as friend to the commonw ealth and, in this instance, the state, similar to the duty of Pythias toward Damon, as grounded in a self-sacrif ice for the political community: fiTrue friends for their true prince, refuse not their death, / The Lord grant her su ch friends, most notable Queen Elizabethfl (Epilogue lines 7-8). 57 declares fiamity and friendship [a]s the greatest of all goods and commodities that any City or Common-weale can attainfl (sig. L5r). The late-Tudor pamphlets on friendship are perh aps one of the best places to perform a sustained analysis of the perceived link betw een self-knowledge and the formation of the political subject in friendship materials. These te xts prove invaluable to the current discussion in this chapter and dissertation for three reasons: (1) the pamphlets have yet to be heavily scrutinized by scholars of early mode rn friendship or its culture and li terature in general; (2) they offer one of the more clear and direct discussions of the political functi on of friendship, despite a narrative tension that aims to belie such claims; and, (3) they draw on a common language of friendship that is present in practically all of the friendship materials in the early modern era. 51 The pamphlets on friendship by Breme, Churchyard, Dorke, and the anonymous M.B. focus on self-knowledge and its centrality to the fo rmation of the political subject from a variety of perspectives. 52 Although these pamphlets sometimes claim friendship to be an exclusively private and apolitical affair, they simultaneous ly underscore the embeddedness of friendship in political or fiworldly affaires,fl to quote one pamphlet (Breme sig. C4r). For instance, Thomas Breme, in the 1584 The mirrour of friendship , argues that in friendshi p one must fiseparate his mind from these worldly affaires fl if he wishes to improve his ethos: it is fia great travaile and wearinesse to the body of man, and greater perrill to his soul, when he occupies all his dayes and 51 Laurie Shannon and Laurens Mills prove the exception of scholars who examine these pamphlets. See Shannon, 32-33, and Mills, 166-68. 52 See my introduction for a brief history of these pamphlets. 58 all his life in the affaires of this world and cannot separate his minde from these worldly affairesfl (sig. C4r). However, although Br eme offers self-knowledge as an anodyne that counters the fitravaile and wearinessfl and fiperrillfl accumula ted by body and mind (indeed, as noted in the previous section, Breme encourages the reader fioft en to examine thy selffl in order to stave off the psychic damage wrought by day to day living) , he also qualifies the contention that one withdraw and fiseparate his minde from thes e worldly affairesfl by distinguishing between virtuous behavior worthy of one™s attention a nd superfluous behavior that impinges on the formation of one™s ethos : fiof all the treasures, ritches, pr osperities, services, authorities and powers that you have, and possesse in this your mortal life, you shall carrie nothing with you, but only the time that you have well employed and spen te virtuously, during the course, and time of this your mortall lifefl (sig. C4r). While Breme cont ends that a majority of fiworldly affaires,fl particularly most fitreasures, ritches, prospe rities, services, authorities and powers,fl prove inessential to the cultivation of one™s ethos, he simultaneously argues that friendship, fiwell employed and spente virtuously,fl numbers among the few worthwhile worldly ventures. The centrality of friendship to the private life of man, including household gove rnance, is the primary reason given in his concession of certain fiservicesfl vital for one™s ethos. Moreover, by paraphrasing a passage from Cicero™s De amicitia on the etymology of fi Amicitia–named in englisshe friendshippe or amitie,fl Breme also concedes that friendship and concord are ‚naturally™ and divinely political, and thus fiservicefl something greater than the self or a private circle of friends: For in god, and all thinge that commeth of god, nothing is of more greatter estimation than loue, called in latin amor, whereof Amicitia commeth, named in englisshe frendshippe or amitie; the whiche taken a way from the lyfe of man, no 59 house shall abide standinge, no felde shall be in culture. And that is lightly parceiued, if a man do remember what commeth, of dissention and discorde. Finally he semeth to take the sonne from the worlde, that taketh frendshippe from mannes life. (sig. C4r) 53 This passage from Cicero, much favored by early modern friendship materials (particularly those of Elyot, from whome Breme takes this passage vi rtually word for word), claims friendship as the bedrock of society. 54 Indeed, according to Cicero and wr iters such as Breme, friendship lends itself to the stability of the household and fithe lyfe of ma nfl in general. In addition to operating as the foundation of man™s governance in private, household affairs, friendship also fosters the cooperation necessary for the stability and regeneration of a larger community, which, as Breme suggests, is most readily achieved through the advancement of concord and prevention of fidissention and discorde.fl Moreover, drawi ng on the metaphor of the cultivated field to discuss concord, Breme argues that friendship ensures that fithe lyfe of manfl does not become fallow; indeed, according to this metaphor, friendsh ip simultaneously operates as the technique and nourishment essential for (a moral) life to take root. In order to make sense of this agricultural motif and its relation to politics, one must turn to other friendship pamphlets to see how they address the embeddedness of friendship in 53 See Falconer, vii.24. fiBut if you should take the bond of goodwill out of the universe no house of city could stand, nor would even the tillage of the fields abide. If that statement is not clear, then you may understand how great is th e power of friendship and of concord from a consideration of the results of enmity and disagreement. Fo r what house is so strong, or what state so enduring that it cannot be utte rly overthrown by animosities and division?fl 54 For instance, see Elyot, 1:122-123.. 60 fiworldly affaires.fl Walter Dorke, in his 1589 pamphlet, A tipe or figure of friendship , paraphrases part of the same passage from Ci cero (or Elyot) as Breme, although he exponentially expands on fithe co[m]modities of Frie[n]dshipfl through commentary, focusing in particular on the myriad ways in which it is fiprofitable to a Publique wealefl: SO necessarie, great & infinit are the co[m]modities of Frie[n]dship, that they seeme to take the Sunne out of the world, which would remoove Friendship from amongst us: without the which, nothing is so well staid, but it may bee soone destroyed, nothing so strong but it may eas ely be beaten downe, nothing so firmly settled but it may be utte rly subverted: yea without Friendship no house can be wel guided, no Citie well governed, no Countrey safe preserved, no State long continued, no nor anie thing in the use of man rightly ordered. It is so convenient for the Court, and so fit for the Countrey; it is such a treasure abroad in the warres, and such an ornament to the Citie in time of peace; that as [T] ully testifieth, there is no gift given of God to man (Sap ience only excepted) more agreeable to nature, more comfortable to the heart, more pleasant to the minde, or more profitable to a Publique weale. (sig. B1v-B2r) Similar to Breme, Dorke (of whom little is known) perceives friendship as the essential force that drives the cultivation of one™s ethos and, more generally, society; indeed, as a stabilizing force, friendship buttresses and renders a variety of social relationsh ips fiso well staid,fl fistrong,fl and fifirmly settled.fl Drawing on the fiSunnefl metaphor, Dorke also characteri zes friendship as the most vital source of moral, emo tional, and political instruction and formation in both private, household affairs and the affairs of a larger, public community: fiwithout Friendship no house can be wel guided, no Citie well governed, no Count rey safe preserved, no State long continued, 61 no nor any thing in the use of man rightly ordere d.fl He likewise emphasizes, to a greater degree and perhaps more forcefully than Breme, the innumerable, figreat & infinit–co[m]modities of Frie[n]dship.fl Not only does Dorke discuss how, as something ‚naturally™ and divinely inspired, friendship figuide[s],fl figovern[s],fl fipreserve[s],fl ficontinue[s],fl and fiorders,fl the entire spectrum of human affairs from the fihouse,fl to th e fiCitie,fl to the fiCountre y,fl to the fiStatefl and fiPublique weal,fl but he also e xplicitly contends that friendshi p serves a variety of purposes, among which social stability and concord can be counted as the most significant. According to Dorke, friendship: solidifies mar tial bonds during times of fiwarre;fl enriches civic life fiin time[s] of peace;fl ficomfort the heart– [and]minde;fl a nd, given its promotion of moral and civil concord in the self and others, pr oves of great fiprofit to a Publi que weale.fl It is due to this perceived utility and fiprofitfl of friendship to th e cultivation of a moral self and community, finot onely in private affaires, but also in publique, in travailes, in voyages, in sojourning at home and abroad,fl that Dorke, along with countless othe r friendship materials, find it so filaudable,fl figlorious,fl fiprecious,fl and fimiraculousfl (sig. B2r). While this brief discussion has demonstrat ed how friendship materials draw a clear link between friendship and politics, most notably its perceived contribution to the stability and reproduction of a community, friend ship™s relation to the reproduc tion of the moral subject (a topic addressed at length in future chapters) remains partially unclear. 55 The friendship pamphlet of the courtier and prolific writer T homas Churchyard, proves apropos for introducing this aspect, given his emphasis, in his preface to Sir Walter Rale igh, on the danger posed to the 55 The next chapter on ethical self-love in Shakespeare™s The Two Gentlemen of Varona explores in detail how friendship materials emphasize the repr oduction of the moral subject. The purpose of the following discussion is mostly to lay the foundation for the proceeding chapters. 62 commonwealth when men do not know themselves or the finatural affec tion [they should bear] towards their countrie and friendsfl (sig. B3r). 56 Of particular import to Churchyard is how friendship, fienforced by affection, [that] leades the mindes of men to a multitude of causes,fl can be harnessed for the benefit of the commonwealth and the moral subject (sig. A2r). Given an emphasis in friendship materials on self-fashioning and self-governance, and present in practically every repr esentation of friendship during the era, it should come as no surprise th at Churchyard emphatically envisions fifriendship, [a]s the ring-leader to all happi nesse, and the guide that shewes men the high way to all worldly exercisesfl (sig. C2r). In a similar manner, his claim that friendship simu ltaneously operates as the guiding principle of self-govern ance and self-fashioning, as well as the stability of a larger political community, reiterates a common thread of early modern friends hip discourse. Indeed, Churchyard envisions this recurring theme of the unity fostered by friendship on both the micro and macro level as the fileague of lovefl that exists between a private circle of friends in addition to persons brought together by geographic proxi mity and common interests: fifriendship is (without comparison) the only true love knot that knits in conj unction thousands togetherfl (sig. C1v). 57 In order to stress this relationship betw een friendship and the political body, he invokes 56 See Kinney™s informative entry on the inte resting life of Churchyard, 136-137. As Kinney notes, fiChurchyard published approximate ly forty-five books and pamphlets in both poetry and prose–..[H]is best known work remain s ‚Shore™s Wife,™ which appeared in the 1563 edition of A Mirror of Magistrates fl (137). 57 In many respects, this passage elucidates Le Roy™s contention that a city is both a place and a collection of individuals who have decided to live harmoniously and in abidance with laws and customs: fi Wherfore a city is not [only] a community of place, neither was it ordained to the end that they should be safeguarded from injury, nor yet or traffickes sake, but those things must be provided for before it be a city, and though they be already provided, yet shal it not be a city: 63 the organic metaphor where friendship is likened to the organic structures that nourish and sustain the physical body: fias the sinowes is n eedful for the body, the marrow for the bones, and the blood for the life: so friendship is most fittest to knit the jointes and minds of men together, and bindes them about with such brazen bandes, th at no barres of yron may break, nor policie of people put asunderfl (sig. B3v). Although Churchyard suggests th at friendship on a macro leve l is threatened by the fipolicie of people,fl he contends that self-knowledge curtails the possibility of discord and thus works to further fiknitfl and fibindfl a community of subjects. In this context, and similar to the texts discussed above, self-knowledge fosters th e cultivation of an ethos that helps one live a morally oriented life directed toward the self, other, and the co mmonwealth. Churchyard articulates this position through a discussion of the import of self-knowledge and friendship to concord, where he broadly outlines how both bene fit and serve the interests of others and simultaneously compels his countrymen to increas e their practice of se lf-knowledge. Moreover, he envisions the primary function of friendship as fithe affectionat love that al men in generall ought to beare to their c ountriefl (sig. B2r). As Churchyard dem onstrates, this fiaffectionat love,fl which works to promote the common well-being, ta kes on a definite practi ce that blends private and public as well as th e personal and political: but a city is a society ordained to liue wel in houses and families; and to this end, to lead a perfect and sufficient life: which indeed cannot be unlesse they inhabite one place, and have the use of mariages: wherfore there have ben brought in into Cities, both affinities, cobrotherhoods, sacrifices, and other manners and customes of living togither, which is the work of friendship, for friendship is nothing but an election of living orderly together, therfore the purpose and end of cities is to live wel, and a c ity is a society of families and bo roughes in a perfect and sufficient life, which is, as we have already affirmed, to liue in al felicity and wealth. Now then a city is ordained for honest actions, and not for living togither onelyfl (sig. Q3r). 64 So if in those dayes (a great while agoe) millions of men helde the loue and friendship of their countrie so deere and precious, as in deede it ought to be esteemed: now in our ripened yeeres when wittes are mellowed and seasoned with the sweete savour of long experience, the folly and foule facts that by over great boldness make many runne mad, should be a general warning, and teach all kinde of people, to keepe the right and plaine path of natural affection towards their countrie and friends.fl (B3r) Drawing the reader™s attention to an exceptional past (in this case, a decidely Roman past), when in fithose dayes (a great while agoe)fl men held an esteem, filove and friendshipfl for their ficountrie,fl Churchyard compels his countrymen to (re)create an exceptional commonwealth that mirrors the past through the practi ce of friendship and self-knowledge. 58 According to this claim, fifriendshipfl as a practi ce of finatural affection toward s [both] countrie and friends,fl collapses the supposed difference between a private, apolitical affair between a few (what Churchyard characterizes earlier as a fiprivie and inward affectionfl between the self and another) and a public, political arrangem ent between many (sig. C1r). Moreover, he underscores the import of self-knowledge primarily through an emphasis on the danger posed to the 58 In an earlier passage, Churchyard offers the Roman statesmen fi Musius Scaeuola, Horatius Cocles, Marcus Curtius, [and] Marcus Regulusfl as models of friendship for his readers to mimic. The ideological and cultural uses of drawing connections between ancient Rome and early modern England is well documented. See Freya Cox Jensen, Reading the Roman Republic in Early Modern England (Brill, 2012); Barbara J. Bono, Literary Transvaluation: From Vergilian Epic to Shakespearean Tragedy (University of California, 1984); Richard Hingley, The Recovery of Roman Britain 1586-1906: A Colony So Fertile (Oxford, 2008); and Markku Peltonen, Classical Humanism and Republicanism in English Political Thought 1570-1640 (Cambridge, 1995). 65 commonwealth when men do not know themselves or the finatural affec tion [they should hold] towards countrie.fl According to Churchyard, this absence disrupts the common peace by lending itself to fifollyfl and an fiover great boldness [t hat] make[s] many runne mad.fl In many respects, Churchyard™s warning about the dire conseque nces for the commonwealth when friendship is absent echoes LeRoy™s conten tion that friendship, fi[a]s th e greatest of all goods and commodities that any City or Common-weale can attaine,–[is] the most apt thing to defend them from sedition and uproarsfl (sig. L5r). It likewise harken s back to discussion at the beginning of this chapter of the ficommonwealth me nfl and their interest in ensuring the common well-being while simultaneously limiting sedition and rebellion. It is this precise danger of sedition and rebellion that ma ny of the poems in Tottel™s Songs and Sonnets frequently address, often through the use of friendship images and language, and which I now turn to in the next section on the miscellany. Fashioning the Self and the Nation in Tottel™s Miscellany Thus far, the examination of self-know ledge in early modern culture has amply demonstrated a number of things: self-knowledge is perceived to limn the ethical duties of the self to a larger community; the illumination of these duties show how self-knowledge contributes to the formation of a moral and political subject; th e formation of an ethical political subject is seen as necessary for the stability and c ontinuation of the commonwealth; and, finally, friendship, particularly through its stress on se lf-fashioning and self-governance, provides the vocabulary and skills through which all of the a bove can best be articulated. In the following section, I continue tracing this thread of self-knowledge, frie ndship, and the formation of the moral and political subject in ear ly modern literature and culture through a reading of selections from Richard Tottel™s 1557 pr inted miscellany of poetry, Songs and Sonnets . As an attempt to 66 use print to create a sh ared, public literature, pa rticularly one with a strong emphasis on, to borrow a phrase from Arthur F. Marotti, fimor al self-improvementfl a nd friendship, Richard Tottel™s Songs and Sonnets proves apropos for the current ex amination of self-knowledge and the formation of the ethical and pol itical subject (215). The poems in Songs and Sonnets , which Tottel claims to have published for the moral self -improvement of fithe unlearnedfl as well fifor the profitfl of country and countrymen, frequently focuses on self-knowledge in the context of friendship. As I demonstrate, not only does this focus reiterate the discussion of self-knowledge and friendship to date in chapter one, but more importantly, it touches on the import of knowing fithe secretes of th[e] minde,fl to borrow a phrase from Grimald™s versification of Cicero™s fiOf friendship,fl for the good of the commonwealth and the potential danger posed to its stability when one does not know the self (line 11). The printed miscellany of poetr y, that is, a collection of poems on a variety of subjects by multiple poets, proves to be rather popular during the era, as evinced by th e twenty titles printed between 1557 and 1603, many of which are repr inted numerous times for different London booksellers and in formats designed for preserva tion in libraries rather than disposable consumption. 59 For instance, nine editions of Songs and Sonnets are reprinted at least eleven times between 1557 and 1587. Many of the reprints of the second edition, as Holton and MacFaul note, are produced fiin octavo rather than quarto format [since octavos]–could be more readily bound for preservation in libra riesfl (x). Richard Edwards™s 1576 The Paradise of Dainty 59 See, for instance, Richard Edwards™ 1576 A Paradise of Dainty Devices, Thomas Proctor™s 1578 A Gorgeous Gallery of Gallant Inventions, Clement Robinson™s 1584 A Handful of Pleasant Delights, Richard Stanyhurst™s 1593 The Phoenix Nest, and Nicholas Breton™s 1591 Britton™s Bower of Delights and 1597 The Arbor of Amorous Devices, John Flasket™s 1600 England™s Helicon, and Francis Davison™s 1602 Poetical Rhapsody. 67 Devices, typically held to be the second prin ted miscellany after Songs and Sonnets (and frequently printed in octavo format as well), go es through three editions, with the latter printed upwards of five times through 1606. Drawing from, to quote Arthur F. Marrotti, fithe manuscript system of transmissionfl still prevalent during the period of print culture in Marian and Elizabethan England, the printed miscellanies make poems and t opics previously confined to private collections and commonpl ace books with a limited circulat ion amongst friends available to a wider reading public (211). 60 Given their popularity, steady source of reve nue for printers and booksellers, and the continual revision of poems and poets in successive ed itions (including th e addition, deletion, reordering, or substantial revision of existing poems ), early modern miscellanies prove to be an excellent bellwether for gauging what assumpti ons and beliefs were fashionable at given moments of time. Although Elizabeth Pomeroy ur ges one to read Elizabethan miscellanies ficautiously and–broadly,fl she nonetheless rightly cont ends that fi[h]istorically, they provide an index in theme and techniquefl and, I would add, im pact of cultural and political events (121). 61 60 See Marotti, 209-290, for further informati on on the manuscript sy stem of poetry and its incorporation in early modern print culture. For a general historical, yet thorough, introduction to early modern print culture, see H.S. Bennett™s magisteria l three volume study of printed books in early modern England: English Books and Readers, 1475-1557 (Cambridge, 1952); English Books and Readers, 1557-1603 (Cambridge, 1965); and, English Books and Readers, 1603-1640 (Cambridge, 1970). For a critical and historical overview of print culture, including some of its broader so cial and political ramifications , see both volumes of Elizabeth Eisenstein™s The Printing Press as an Agent of Change (Cambridge 1979), Lucien Febvre and Henri-Jean Martin , The Coming of the Book (Verso, 1976), and Alexandra Halasz, The Marketplace of Print (Cambridge, 1997). 61 For additional criticism on early m odern printed misce llanies, including Songs and Sonnets, see: Mary Thomas Crane, Framing Authority (Princeton, 1993); Wendy Wall, The Imprint of Gender (Cornell, 1993); Seth Lerer, Courtly Letters in the Age of Henry VIII 68 In terms of the former, while an interest in fort une, battles, and mean estates as topics of poems fluctuate as the period progresses, Petrarchan love-lyrics, moral odes, and friendship remain perennial topics in Elizabethan printed miscellanies of poetry. Likewise, in terms of the latter, Christopher J. Warner, in a recent hi storical and mate rialist study of Songs and Sonnets, contends that Tottel™s 1557 printed miscellany is fiboth a pragmatic and an idealistic response to the religious, political, and social upheavals of the English Reform ation and Counter-Reformation Œ including the ‚lurid glare™ of that summer™s martyrs™ firesfl (a topic which I address below) (2). In his study of the print history of Songs and Sonnets , Paul A. Marquis makes a similar claim through his contention that Tottel™s anthology interrogates fithe cultural attribut es of changefl that occur during the Marian and Elizabetha n eras (John Guy qtd in Marquis 19). Richard Tottel™s Songs and Sonnets (hereafter referred to as Tottel™s ) proves no exception to the broad characterization of printed miscellanies of poetry outlined above. Printed in the summer of 1557, the inaugural edition of Tottel™s includes two hundred and seventy one poems by Henry Howard, the Ea rly of Surrey (poems 1-36 and 262-265), Sir Thomas Wyatt (poems 37-127 and 266-267), Nic holas Grimald (poems 128-167), and a host of fiUncertain Auctoursfl (poems 168-261), includ ing two who authored friendship materials discussed in this project: Thomas Ch urchyard, the author of the pamphlet A sparke of frendship (poem 175), and John Harrington of Stepney, the translator of the 1550 edition of Cicero™s De amicitia (poem 139). However, as Marquis and othe rs have noted, subsequent editions of Songs and Sonnets radically reorder the number of poems . The contribution of Nicholas Grimald, (Cambridge, 1997). Also see the recently publ ished collection edited by Stephen Hamrick entitled, Tottel™s Songes and Sonettes in Context (Ashgate, 2013) as well as Holton and MacFaul™s fiIntroductionfl (Penguin, 2011), ix-xxvii. 69 another author of friendship materials, is also reduced from almost forty poems to ten and his name is removed and replaced by the initials fiN.G.fl in later editions. 62 According to the preface, Richard Tottel markets his miscellany as an act of public service for the commonwealth and figentle readersfl of the middling sort, which, as Catherine Bates contends, indicates for his readership how his anthology offers "a passpor t to gentility" and common prosperity (38). 63 Moreover, as Holton and MacFaul speculate, the wo rk also fimay have targeted–Inns of Courts students, who seem to have been as much in n eed of the flowers of courtly rhetoric and verse therein as they were of legal textbooksfl (ix). 64 As one of the earliest printe d anthologies of poe try in English (e xcluding the c. 1539 fragmented The Court of Venus ), Tottel™s Miscellany not only establishes many of the themes that come to dominate early modern printed mis cellanies of poetry, and t hus garner such overly dramatic sentiments from modern scholars like Hyder Rollins that fithe beginning of modern English verse may be said to date from its publication in 1557,fl but also, and perhaps more importantly, it uses these themes didactically to stress moral improvement for the benefit of the self and the commonwealth (2:5). 65 62 See f.n. 16 above. Also see Marquis, 15-17. 63 See Bates for further discussion of the fimixed messagesfl of Totell™s fipassportfl as regards climbing the social ladder. 64 Marotti makes a similar claim as regard s Tottel™s intended audience, 211-214. 65 See Pomeroy 3-6 for an overview of The Court of Venus. Also see Russell A. Fraser™s edition of The Court of Venus (Duke, 1955). Not all modern scholars, however, agree with Rollins. Indeed, C.S. Lewis famously sizes up the miscellany as fiA Drab Age anthologyfl that pales in comparison to fiGolden Agefl verse. 70 An emphasis on improvement in the miscella nies, particularly the notion that through reading, fithe less refined can become more refi ned,fl to quote Marotti, accords with the fimodel of intellectual and moral self-improvement that is basic to print culture and to developing notions of social progressfl during the era (215-216). Am ong the reasons Tottel provides for his decision fito publishefl the manuscript poems of Surrey et al. is moral self-improvement of fithe unlearnedfl as well as the promotion of a shared, pub lic literature and identity (3). In his prefatory note fiTo the reder,fl Tottel, a publisher largely of legal texts on common law for students at Inns of Court, requests that his more figentle reder[ s]fl refrain from passing j udgement on his decision to make public some very private poems since he does so fifor the profitfl of country and countrymen: fiIt resteth now (gentl e reder) that thou thinke it no t evil don, to publishe, to the honor of the english tong, and for the profit of the studious Eng lishe eloquence those works which the ungentle horders up of such treasure have heretofore envied the[e]fl (5). 66 Tottel™s claim that he published the miscellany for the bette rment of his readers a nd English rhetoric in general (as well as to provide a window into courtly language and life), simultaneously has a much greater application for the commonwealth ; namely, the promotion of peace and social concord through widespread use of eloquence. 67 Gently chastising his social betters as 66 As Holton and MacFaul note, Edward VI grants Richard Totttel fia patent–to produce common law texts Œ a very lucrative monopoly which [i]s renewed under Mary in 1556 and Elizabeth in 1559fl(ix). 67 For claims of the relationship betwee n eloquence and peace, see Henry Peacham, The garden of eloquence, (London, 1593), AB2v. Also see Cicero™s De invention where he contends that "the man who equips himself with the weapon s of eloquence, not to be able to attack the welfare of his country but to defend it, he, I think, will be a citizen most helpful and most devoted both to his own interests and those of his community.fl See De inventione, De optimor 71 fiungentle horders up of such [richly instructio nal] treasuresfl as contained in the manuscript poems that could benefit those below them, Tottel likewise encourages the middling and fiunlearnedfl sort to improve their ethos and fito purge the swinelike grossenessfl through reading the Miscellany : fiI exhort the unlearned, by reding to learne to bee more skillful and to purge the swinelike grossenesse, that make th the swete marjerome not to smell to their delightfl (5). While Tottel™s gentle admonishment certainly functions as a marketing ploy, where, as Holton and MacFaul contend, Tottel signals to the r eader fithat he is letting the general public in on works that had been hoarded, even kept secret , by the aristocracy,fl his assertion should also be read in the larger context of promoting an idea of Englishness in the commonwealth (x). Indeed, similar to Churchyard, who in his pamp hlet compels his countrymen to (re)create an exceptional commonwealth that mirrors an exce ptional Roman past through the practice of friendship, Tottel aligns the Engl ish language and culture with th e more prestigious aspects of Latin and Italian culture: fiThat to have wel written in verse, yea and in small parcelles, deserveth great praise, the woorkers of Latine, Italians, & other, doe prove sufficientlyfl (fiTo the readerfl). 68 The alignment of the English commonw ealth and culture with antiquity genere, Orartorum topica. Trans. H.M. Hubbell (Harvard, 1949) 1.1; 4-5; and, Rhetoricorum ad C. Herennium libri quattuor. M.T. Ciceronis De inventione libri duo (London, 1579). Also see Peter Mack, Elizabethan Rhetoric (Cambridge, 2002). 68 For information on the status of Latin in early modern England, see J.W. Binns, Intellectual Culture in Elizabethan and Jacobe an England: The Latin Writings of the Age (Francis Cairns, 1990). George Puttenham, in his 1589 The Arte of English Poesie praises Songes and Sonnets: "Such honour as seemeth due to them fo r having by their thankefull studies so beautified our English tong, as this day it will be found our nation is in nothing inferior to the French or Italian for copie of language, subtitie of device, good method and proporation in any forme of poeme" 72 finds its clearest expression in Tottel™s Miscellany through discussions of friendship (215). Such discussions, as I shall now demonstrate, freque ntly occur in two ways: transmitting classical ideas of friendship for English to practice and us ing the idea of friendship to discuss political relationships, among which the most important in cludes self-knowledge and the promotion of the common peace. As previously stated, many of the poems in Tottel™s Miscellany place a strong emphasis on cultivating one™s ethos, and the topic of friendship proves to be one of the more useful vehicles for this emphasis. Indeed, aside from Petrarchan love-lyrics and occasional eulogies, like Grimald™s fiUpon the decease of W. Chfl and fiOf N. Chfl that meditate on the figood thews [i.e., qualities of]– / The hart iest mate, that ever trod the moldfl, poems on friendship, like poems on moral topics such as vanitas (e.g., fiDescripcion of an ungodly worldefl) or the import of patriotism (e.g., fiOf the troubled comon welth restor edfl) tend to be didactic pieces that stress moral improvement (fiOf N. Chfl lines 9-10). 69 For instance, Wyatt™s fiOf the fained frendfl addresses how excessive self-love attracts sycophants and flatterers. 70 His primary concern in this poem is the danger posed by the back biter or fifrendly fofl as well as the reason why one should avoid cultivating vainglory. One of the primary reasons Wyatt gives is that vanity 69 Also see Grimald™s other moralistic poems fiOf lawes,fl fiMusonius the Philosphers saying,fl fiMarcus Catoes comparison of mans life with ir on,fl fiThe death of Zoroas,fl and fiOf the golden meane.fl Wyatt also pens a number of moralistic poems in the miscellany, among which are included: fiOf the meane and sure estate", "Theyof the meane estate are happiest," "The courtiers life." Also see the anonymously penned, fiThe felicitie of a minde imbracing vertue.fl 70 Also see Wyatt™s fiOf dissembling wordesfl as well as the anonymously penned fiThe wise trade of life,fl fiTotus mundus in malign positusfl (fiThe whol e world lieth in wickednessfl), and fiDescription of an ungodly worldefl for further discussions of friendship and sycophants. 73 eventually leads to self-ruin or harm: fimany a man such fire oft times he kindleth: / That with the blaze his berd him self singethfl (lines 6-7). The anonymously penned fiThe praise of a true frende,fl is far more didactic. It uses the disc ussion of what constitute s the fifrendly hartfl in virtuous friendship to advi se the reader on how to develop his or her own ethos (line 4). By mimicking the fifrendly hartfl of the virtuous, one learns, according to the poem: the import of constancy, including the support an d care of others during times of need (5-16); the import of counsel, particularly of fithe wise ,fl and the ability to impart it to others effectively (lines 17-24); and, the import of knowing one™s limits and when to ask for fiaydefl (lines 25-31). However, Grimald™s didactic versification of Cicero™s De amicitia , aptly titled fiOf frendship,fl proves to be the friendship poem most germane to the curren t discussion of self-fashioning the moral and political subject. 71 Aside from Edwards™s tragicomedy Damon and Pythias, and the ballad renditions of Elyot™s Titus and Gisippus, Grimald™s poem serves as the most didactic instances of transmitting classical ideas of friendship for the English to practice in early modern letters and, by far, the most didactic in the printed miscellany. Practica lly devoid of style, Petr archan aesthetics, and narrative found in many of the poems included in Tottel™s Miscellany , Grimald™s intention in the forty line poem is to transmit Cicero™s classical treatise in abbreviated form to a general audience. Included in all subsequent reprints of Tottel™s Miscellany , the poem contends that friendship: is a fiheavenly gift fl far more valuable than mate rial or worldly goods, including health and power (lines 1-4); in stills fiTrue vertuefl that helps one conquer the fibodies lustfl and 71 I discuss De amicitia at length in the next chapter on ethical self-love and caring for others. 74 other lowly appetites that run counter to figood–pursutesfl (lines 5-6); creates a bond that is stronger than family or fikinfl and leads to a fidelity grounded in figood willfl (line 10); encourages one to share and firepose the secret es of th[e] mindefl and, more generally, live an emotionally invested life (lin es 11-14); creates, to quote Shannon, a ficivic parityfl between friends where one may, to quote Grimald, fiBehold thy frend, and of thy self the pattern see: / One soull, a wonder shall it seem, in bodies tw ain to beefl (lines 15-16); provides the foundation of private and public governance and concord of fiech e house, eche towne, eche realmfl (lines 19- 23); has a strong precedent in Greek and Roman culture and political life (lines 24-32); is rare in the contemporary world, and near ly impossible between a tyrant a nd his subjects (lines 33-38); and, perhaps most important given that the final couplet ends wher e the poem begins, is a natural relationship that encourages wisdom and sapience (lines 39-40). Grimald™s versification of Cicero™s treatise ponders the question fiOf all the heavenly giftes, that mortall men commend, / What trusty treasure in the world can countervail a frend?fl (fiOf frendshipfl lines 1-2). While the poem affi rms that few things fic ountervailfl or are more valuable than friendship, it simultaneously suggests that one™s inwardness and self- consciousness, particularly when tethered to one ™s moral development and social concord, come rather close in worth (line 9). Even though Gr imald contends that unlike the body, honor, power, and time, fithis knot [of friendship] endurethfl and transcends the ma terial realm, his rhetorical question, fiWhat sweter solace sh all befall, than one to finde, / Upon whose brest thou mayest repose the secretes of thy minde?, fl suggests that friendship™s greates t value rests just as much, if not slightly more, in its encour agement of the articulation of one™s inwardness and improvement of ethos (lines 11-12). Grimald expresses a similar se ntiment of the primacy accorded to one™s inwardness in friendship in the poem™s conclusion: fiWherefore sins nothing is more kindly for 75 our kinde: / Next wisdome thus that teacheth us , love we the frendful mindfl (lines 39-40). Similar to Erasmus™s contention that fiThe First Po int of Wisdom is to Know Yourself,fl Grimald holds fiwisdomefl in greatest esteem, particularly since it fiteacheth us,fl as he notes a few lines earlier, how to ethically love the self and the friend ( Enchiridion 207). 72 In this formulation, the fifrendful mindfl of the other is in close second af ter one™s own inwardness, and, read in correlation with the opening couplet, and si milar to Erasmus, Elyot, and theological understandings of self-knowledge discussed in the first sec tion, wisdom and sapience are a fiheavenly giftfl from God. Moreover, Grimald™s account of the fifrendful mindfl emphasizes, similarly to Elyot, its relationship to social concord and interiority . As a figood guide of our pursute,fl friendship simultaneously cultivates one™s ethos and fiwisdom,fl and more broadly, contributes to social concord (fiOf frendshipfl line 6) . While the former claim has been broached through a brief discussion of fiwisdomfl in Grimald™s versification of De amicitia , he touches on the latter through an emphasis on the unifying power of friendship where, to quote Cicero, fioure willes studyes and felynges were all onefl (sig. A5v-A5r). Through a gestur e toward Cicero™s fiknot of frendship,fl as well as an echo of the friendshi p pamphlets by Churchyard and others discussed above, Grimald adjoins social c oncord and friendship: fiEche house, eche towne, eche realm by steadfast love doth / stand: / Where fowl deba te breeds bitter bale, in eche devided land. / O frendship, flowr of flowrs: O livel y spirit of life, / O sacred bond of blisfull peace, the stalworth 72 See line 36. fiAnd as thou wilt esteem thy self, so take thy chosen ferefl (i.e., companion). In the next chapter, I discuss th e significance of self-l ove in greater detail. 76 staunch of strifefl (fiOf frendshipfl 19-22). 73 Self-knowledge, according to Grimald, thus lends itself to the formation of an inward fisacred bond,fl where one works on his ethical being, as well as an outward fisacred bond,fl where fiblisfull p eacefl and fisteadfast lovefl between the self and others occurs. However, an emphasis on self-knowledge in Tottel™s Miscellany is considerably complicated when one considers the cultural a nd historical events that occur in England between1555 and 1558 as well as thei r resonance across the latter pa rt of the sixteenth-century. As Hyder Rollins notes in his edition of Tottel™s Miscellany , during this time, fimartrys™ fires were sending a lurid glare thr oughout Englandfl as the persecu tion of Protestants under Mary continued to mar social concord (2.3). If one is to believe Jo hn Foxe™s martyrology, then the cry fiPut to fire, set to firefl must have been heard frequently in the area around London between February 1555 and November 1558 when, as John Guy notes, some two hundred and eighty seven people were burned at the stake as heretics (122; Tudor 238). Undoubtedly, these public burnings, regardless of how widespread the prac tice may have actually b een throughout England (and numerous historians contend that, in all likelihood, they were lo calized primarily to London), created a grotesque spectacle where one might have witnesse d such a sight as described by Foxe: 74 73 Cicero™s famous proverb depicts fithe knot of frendshipfl as the binding force of concord, where without it fin[e]ither can there be any house, neither any citie be able to continue, no not the tillage of the land can endure.fl See my discussion of the fioccasional pamphletsfl on friendship above. 74 See Guy,238; A.G. Dickens, 338. 77 In the which flame this good and blessed man bathed his hands so long, until such time as the sinews shrunk, and the fat dr opped away–.At last the extremity of the fire was so vehement against his legs, that they were consumed almost before the rest of his body was burned: which made the whole body fall over into the fire sooner– it cannot be said that he suffere d or felt any great pain,–he abided both quietly and patiently, even unto the departing of his life. (122-123) As Christopher J. Warren astutely observes in his examination of the cultural context of Tottel™s production, the events surrounding the fimartyrs™ fire sfl influenced the poems of Surrey, Wyatt, Grimald, and the numerous anonymous contributors. The Miscellany™s frequent allusions to fiStrange kinds of death–[that] in love™s fire burn,fl to quote Surrey™s canonical sonnet fiDescripcion of the restless st ate,fl render some of the most beloved and canonical works of Tottel™s all the more sinister, and also suggest that the burnings clearly impacted the public, including the poets of the Miscellany (2). 75 However, one should not construe that the incorporation of such imager y means that Tottel and the Miscellany™s poets sympathize with Marian politics. Indeed as Holton and MacFaul no te, both poets and Tottel alike find it necessary to remain as nonpartisan as possible, although on e only need look at Grim ald™s poem that rounds 75 Also see Wyatt™s "How the lover perisheth in his delight, as the flie in the fire,fl fiOf the fained frend,fl and the anonymous fiThe compla int of a hot woer, delayed with doutfull cold answers.fl The latter, though a lover™s complaint, resonates eerily with the excerpt from Foxe quoted above. Holton and MacFaul note that fitwenty-eight Protestants–were burned in the month of the Miscellany™s publicationfl (377). 78 off the first edition, a eulogy for Cicero on his execution by Mark Antony that warns the reader of the danger of tyranny, to see how difficult it was to remain neutral. 76 Other poems in Tottel™s, such as the anonymously penne d, fiOf the troubled common welth restored to quiet by the mighty power of god,fl also demonstrate how the miscellany converses with the filurid glarefl permeating Engl and during this time. It likewise touches on the import of knowing fithe secretes of th[e] mindefl for the good of the commonwealth. Indeed, the poem™s treatment of the fall of Troy and failed rebell ions against God, such as that of Pharaoh in Exodus, as well as possible allusions to the failed 1554 Wyatt rebellion, relates the difficulty of knowing fithe secretes of th[e] mindefl in the co ntext of (an undoubtedly Protestant) conspiracy: fiOf treason marke the nature and the kinde, / A face it beares of all humilitie. / Truth is the cloke, and frendship of the minde, / And depe it goes, and worketh secretly, / Like to a mine that creepes so nye the wall, / Till out breakes sulphure, and oreturneth allfl (lines 49-54). 77 As the anonymous poet suggests, it is difficu lt, if not impossible, to detect early signs of fitreason,fl such as conspiracy, since outwardly fiA face it beares of all humilitie.fl Indeed, the poet claims that 76 See Paul A. Marquis reading of this poem in fiPolitics and Print: The Curious Revisions to Tottel™s ‚Songes and Sonnettes™fl (Studies in Philology, Spring 2000), 145-164. 77 Grimald alludes to Wyatt™s rebellion in fiOf lawes,fl though, as I read it, he boldly claims that religious intoleration of Protestant s under Mary largely contributes to political uprising: fiWhen princes lawes, with reverend right, do keep the / commons under / As meek as lambs, they do their charge, & sca tter not / asunder. / But if they raise their heads aloft, and lawe her bridle slake: / Then, like a tiger fell, they fa re, and lust for law they take. / Where water doth prevail, and fire, no mercy they express: / But ye t the rage of that rude rout is much more mercilessfl (lines 1-6). Note Grimald™s use of friendship language is similar to Churchyard™s discussion friendship above on page twenty-four; laws are friends to subjects, and promote social concord by preventing subjects from fiscatter[ing] not asunder.fl Moreover, subjects should be friendly with the law and not, as Grimald leve ls at the firude rout,fl be fimerciless.fl 79 treason festers fiand worketh secretlyfl in the mind and only comes to light once it manifests in action or, as he eloquently puts it, fiout brea kes sulphure, and oreturneth all.fl Moreover, conspiracy is buttressed by seemingly frank speech that appeals to reason (fiTruth is the cloke, and frendship of the mindefl), and echoes Wya tt the elder™s poem on the fifrendly fofl in Tottel™s or the period™s common percepti on of the flatterer, who, to quote Plutarch, fioften times, that we esteeme to be our perfect friendfl because they fishew themselves–bolde to speake their minds and to finde fault, which is one of the best and surest marks of true friendshipfl (84). 78 Other poems in Tottel™s Miscellany , many penned by anonymous authors, continue this theme of the unexamined self and the fifrendly fofl within that threatens moral and social stability. For instance, the anonymously authored fiThat eche thing is hurt of it selffl discusses, in a fashion similar to the above poem on conspir acy, how the greatest danger to man is his own unexamined self: fiWhy fearest thou thy outward f o, / When thou thy selfe thy harme dost fede, / Of grief, or hurt, or paine or wo, / Within each thing is sowen the sede?fl (lines 1-4). Conversely, the anonymously penned fiDescripcion of an ungodly worldefl emphasizes peace of mind and service to figod and manfl as two fruits of sel f-knowledge that can ease social turbulence (line 40). After a lengthy catalogue of acts in this fiungol dly worldefl that readily lend themselves to fitroublesome times,fl among which is included fifraud in frendly lokes [and] such frendship al for gaine,fl the poet argues, fiThe cause and ground of this [suffering and wickedness] is our unquiet mindefl (lines 3; 57; and 31). The fifrendful mindefl Revisited By now, it should be apparent that the answer to the question, fiWha t is the link between nosce 78 Flattery, frank speech, and the care of one™s ethos is the subject of chapter three. 80 teipsum, friendship, and the formation of the subject in earl y modern culture?,™ is that the era largely perceives self-knowledge and inwardness as inextricably bound to, and in fact fostered by, friendship. Friendship, in turn, is seen as an important didactic force that provides the subject with a moral and political education Œ indeed, th e language of friendship is frequently yoked to discussions of the commonwealth. Moreover, I ha ve shown that friendship does not compete with one™s self-knowledge and in wardness; rather, early modern friendship discourse, for the most part, depicts friendship as an educational experience that, to reiterate Davies, enables one to fistudie, learne, and know fl the self as well as the duties required of it as a moral subject in a political community. In other words, in frie ndship, to borrow a quote from W.F. Fields™ discussion of nosce teipsum in Elizabethan culture, one fiindirectly arrive[s ] at self-knowledge by seeing himself mirrored in the soul of anotherfl Œ indeed, to reit erate Churchyard, author of one the friendship pamphlets, self-knowledge in friendsh ip curtails the possibility of discord and thus works to further fiknitfl and fibindfl a community of subjects (4). While this chapter has focu sed primarily on the concept of self-knowledge as envisioned by early modern texts, it has only gestured br oadly toward its practic e in the world. Thus, a broader question to consider is: how do early modern texts see this practice manifest in society? How does the subject learn about duties and realize them through act ion? To return to Erasmus™ discussion of the proverb nosce teipsum introduced earlier in this ch apter, fimoderationfl of desire and the ability to sustain a fimiddle statefl wher e self-abnegation and self-regard are tempered is fundamental to the practice of knowing oneself: fi[k] now thyself,–recommends moderation and the middle state, and bids us not to pursue object s either too great for us or beneath us. For here we have a source of all life™s tr oubles: everyman flatters himsel f, and blinded by self-love takes to himself without deserving it al l the merit he wrongly denies othe rsfl (97). Praise of fithe middle 81 statefl or fithe meanfl also finds articulation in Tottel™s , where the anonymous poet of fiThe praise of measurekeepingfl envisions it as the locatio n where fivertuefl manifests: fiThe auncient time commended, not for nought, / The mean: what better thing can there be s ought? / In meane, is vertue placed: on either side, / Bo th right and left, amisse a man sh all slidefl (lines 1-4). Rogers, likewise aligns the fiTemperate man,fl or one who pursues moderation and the mean, as fia notable member in a common wealefl (sig. P4v). Finally, Sir Thomas Elyot , in his ‚Englished™ version of the Venetian humanist Vives™ Introduction to the wisdome, Banket of sapience , follows fiKnow thy selfefl with fiUse temperancefl (sig. N7v). As I discuss in the next chapter, friendship discourse and writings on the commonwea lth perceive self-love and the moderation of desire, or the ability to ficare for the self,fl to borrow a phrase from Michel Foucault, as key to the practice fiTemperancefl and fithe middle state.fl 82 Chapter Two: fiI to myself am dearer than a fr iendfl: The Problem of Care of the Self and Care of the Other in The Two Gentlemen of Verona Introduction: A fitemperate and moderate personfl According to Ecclesiastes 7:18-19, the avoida nce of extremes through the pursuit of a fimiddle statefl or fimeanfl proves the best strategy to live a temperate and virtuous life in the body of Christ: fiBe not thou just overmuch, neithe r make thyself overwise: wherefore shouldest thou be desolate? Be not thou wicked overmuch, neither be thou foolish: wherefore shouldest thou perish not in thy time?fl ( Geneva). Following the general theme of Ecclesiastes, wherein the author instructs the reader how to life a meani ngful and enjoyable life, an aversion to being overly righteous, wicked, foolish, and pedantic is th e key piece of advice in this passage; indeed, in a manner reminiscent of the anonymous poet from Tottel™s who declares that fiin meane, is vertue placed,fl throughout Eccles iastes the author stresses temp erance as way to cultivate a godly ethos on Earth. In a similar manner, Thomas Roge rs explicitly connects temperance as an admirable trait of fimember[s] in a common wealefl through his discussion of fia prettie saying in our English tongue, too much one thing, is good for nothing:fl Nothing to much, nor to often. We have a prettie saying in our Englishe tongue, too much of one thing, is good for nothing. Observe a meane, and then shall you be that Temperate man, of which we doo here talke, a notab le member in a common weale, for by Temperance he embraceth Modestie, Shamefastnesse, Abstinencie, Continencie, Pudicitia [sexual virtue], Honestie, Moderation, Sparingnesse, and Sobrietie: without which Tem|perance can not be.fl (sig. P7r) As Rogers contends, the ability to fiobserve a meanefl between excess and deficiency produces 83 the ideal or finotable member in a common weal e.fl Moreover, the temperate man fiembracethfl or practices a host of mannerisms such as fiModes tie, Shamfastnesse, Abstinencie, Continencie, Pudicitia [sexual virtue], Honestie, Moderation, Sp aringnesse, and Sobrietie.fl Indeed, according to Rogers, the sum total of these practices contribute to the formation of the finotable member in a common weal,fl and, as he notes later in this passage when di scussing the cause of Rome™s dissolution, also stave off and minimize social di scord: if the firare moderation [of temperance] [o]f others in his time [i.e., C aeser] had [been] set before their eyes, their perils had been so great, nor the common wele of Rome so overthr owenfl (sig. O1v). Richard Morison, in his 1539 Exhortation, also situates temperance as a vital com ponent of subjects in the commonweal and, more generally, the stability of the fipolitike orderfl (sig. B2r). He envisions fitempera[n]ciefl as a key characteristic of fimannes lifefl and of ficivile ordinaunce [and] obeysauncefl (sig. B2r). Indeed, as Morison contends, fi[w]hat thinge is more beneficiall unto ma nnes life, then politike order, then mutual socie tie of men, knitte together in justice, tempera[n] cie, modestie, and honest libertie, one to helpe and comforte an otherfl (s ig. B2r). In Elyot™s ‚Englished™ version of Juan Luis Vives (and which, in the 1550 edition, Morison pens a dedication to Gregory Cromwell, son of Thomas Cromwell), he includes a lengthy entry on fiTemperance,fl and reiterates its centrality to the life of man and the political order: fiTo a wel ordered cou[n]trey or citee those expenses be thought mete and convenient, that be littell & m oderate, the end whereof is necessary and hones, pleasant and thankful, so that it lacke bothe reproche and damag efl (sig. Bb1r). Furthermore, Sir Thomas Elyot describes a fitemperate and moderate person [as] not wanton nor affectionate to his owne apetite, [who] maie be to no manne in hi s countrey chargouse, to no man cruell or grevous, to no ma[n] dangerous: For he is of Nature familiar and gentill, easy to men that wilcome & speake with him, whose house is unlocked, not shut, but open to all men, where everye manne, 84 as it were in tempestes and stormes, may repa ire for their succoursfl (sig. Bbr-Bbv). Taking the concerns of these texts on the commonwealth, temperance, and social and political stability as a point of departure, the current chapter shows how a central aspect of Tudor friendship discourse stresses the dilemma of how one forms the self as a moral being primarily through emotional awareness and constraint. The Two Gentlemen of Verona , I argue, suggests that attemp ts to balance selfishness and selflessness in friendship hinge on one™s ability to reflect on their emoti ons and desires and temper self-abnegation with self-regard. Such a dialectical emphasis on fr iendship, particularly the ficontradictory requirementsfl of caring for the self and others, to borrow a phrase from William K. Rawlins, can best be unde rstood through a reading of Cicero™s De amicitia [Of friendship ] and Michel Foucault™s Collège de France l ectures on subjectivity and fithe care of the selffl (2). 79 Broadly conceived as understanding the self as provisional and contingent on social situations, Foucault™s lectures on fithe care of the selffl in antiquity demonstrate that, while it is a complex activity frequently difficult to delineate, caring for the self implies, firstly, reflecting on how one is an emotional being, and secondly, r ecognizing and realizing the agency bestowed upon the self in forming this being. Caring for the self likewise reveal s how the affective and political dimensions of friendshi p (that is, the fiachievedfl and fiascr ibedfl), similar to the self and other, are inextricably bound. Considering how Tudor friendship discourse perceives, to quote Bray, fithe ethical praxisfl of friendship in re lation to the individual ™s inward being also 79 Rawlins, in his study of friendship in mi ddle-class American culture, examines the ficontradictory requirementsfl of friendship along with their corresponding fisocial predicaments.fl See the introduction to Friendship Matters. 85 underscores one™s moral and political agency Œ twin concepts of great import to the era™s articulations of the commonwealth. The first part of the current chapter thus examin es Foucault™s lectures in order to clarify how understanding the self as an emotional being is perceived as synonymous with forming oneself as a moral being Œ an ende avor Foucault characterizes as fia principle of restlessness and movement, of continuous concern throughout lifefl ( Hermeneutics 8). The second section considers how one of the most influential texts on early modern friendsh ip discourse, Cicero™s De amicitia , addresses caring for the self. As I de monstrate, reading Cicero through a Foucauldian lens illuminates the primacy given to fithe care of the selffl in De amicitia and early modern friendship discourse, partic ularly the import of realizing that one forms the self as a moral being, firstly, by learning to love the self before loving others, and secondly, by maintaining an equilibrium betw een self-regard and self-abnegation. A product of this realization and practice concerns self-governance where mora l beliefs and constraints illuminate one™s ethical identity and responsibilit ies not only to the se lf but to others. Having established my critical terms and concepts, the third section tu rns to one of Shakespeare™s early comedies to examine a sustained representation of fithe care of th e selffl in friendship. As I demonstrate in this section, Two Gentlemen readily underscores the import of em otional awareness and reflection in friendship through numerous soliloquies, monol ogues, and duologues. Char acters likewise use interior speech, along with limited conversations with others, to reflect on how their emotions are tethered to friendship practices and, in numerous in stances, how their passions impact others. As such, the play™s depiction of self-awareness in fri endship practices illumina te how the care of the self informs the formation of the subject, not onl y as a moral being, but also, to borrow a phrase 86 from Regenia Gagnier™s study of Victorian subjectivity, as fia s ubject to itself,–an ‚I™ [with] its own viewpointfl and experiences, as well as fia subject to, and of, othersfl (qtd in Hall 2-3). As Shakespeare demonstrates, however, the ab ility to balance one™s desires and a sense of duty to others often produ ces an internal struggle, al though conscious self-regard, as suggested through the figure of Proteus, can potent ially lead to the ethical caring for others. Indeed, because Proteus is so self -regarding, he is able to redeem himself at the end of the play. Proteus™s self-regard, which strikes us as initially selfish, potentially signals to an early modern audience that he is cultivating the kind of concern for self that enables him to become a true friend in the end. The play thus articulates a practice of earl y modern subjectivity wherein a sense of self is believed, one the one hand, to em erge from perceived duties to others, and on the other hand, from a duty to the self. However, the tension between unders tanding and forming the self as both an individual and a friend, as well as the conundrum arising from the perception that one™s subjectivity is potentially compromi sed by friendship, drives the narrative of Two Gentlemen. One of the many things that makes Two Gentlemen particularly interesting is the fact that it is composed amidst an explosion on the comme rcial stage of plays de voted to the topic of friendship Œ indeed, if a 1592-1594 composition date is assigned to the title, it would occur during the ‚first wave™ of commer cial staging of friendship. Like wise, unlike the dramatic and literary antecedents of Edwards, Elyo t, and Grimald, the didacticism of Two Gentlemen occurs at the level of action rather than pedantic description. Prior to the 1594 acquisition by the Admiral™s Men of firights from Henry Chettle to a Damon and Pythias,fl the staging of friendship tends to 87 be accessible to only a privileg ed audience at court or in ‚p rivate™ theaters (Stretter 351). 80 A cursory glance of their repertoi re reveals other titles on frie ndship, such as the lost plays Alexander and Lodovick (1597), Palamon and Arset (1594), and Love Parts Friendship (1602) (Stretter 351). Although these titles demonstrate the populari zation of the topic on the commercial stage in late-Tudor England, one can only guess as to what degree, if any, they address the reflective dimension of friends hip or caring for the self (Stretter 351). George Peele™s The Old Wives™ Tale (1594) and Christ opher Marlowe™s Edward II (1594) also attest to the growing interest of friendship as a viable topic for the commercial stage, as do titles tangentially concerned with friendship, such as the anonymous Arden of Feversham (1592), Thomas Kyd™s The Spanish Tragedy (1587), and Ben Jonson™s The Case is Altered (1600). Shakespeare proves rather prolific in his examina tion of friendship Œ indeed, as Two Gentlemen and The Two Noble Kinsmen demonstrate, the theme bookends his literary output, and it is likewise predominately featured in most of his titles composed in the intervening years. 81 80 Whether this is Edwards™ Damon and Pythias or that of another playwright remains a mystery since the title obtained from Chettle is no longer extant. One of the more famous titles from the private theater proves to be Edwards. It is performed before Elizabeth I at Whitehall in 1564 and revived during her visit to Oxford in 1568. Lyly™s Endymion is first performed before Elizabeth in 1588 at Greenwich Palace. Both titles are not available in print until 1571 and 1591 and their performance on the early modern commercial stage is murky. For a thorough discussion of the stage history of Endymion, see David Bevington™s introduction to The Revels edition (Manchester, 1997), 1-6 and 49-59. Also see E.K. Chambers, The Elizabethan Stage (Clarendon, 1951), II.496-7. Ros King™s introduction to The Collected Works of Richard Edwards (Manchester, 2001) proves equally insightful in terms of the stage history of Damon and Pythias as well as Edwards™ legacy during the early modern period. See 32-39 and 87-96. 81 See, for instance, All™s Well That Ends Well (1602), The Merchant of Venice (1597), Twelfth Night (1600), and The Winter™s Tale (1611). 88 These commercial plays, of which one would include Two Gentlemen, tacitly assume audience familiarity with basic tenets of friends hip theory, and, unlike the earlier works of Elyot, Edwards, and Grimald, typically refrain from lengt hy explication of the canon or fistatutes of the lawe of Amitie,fl to quote Walter Dorke™s 1589 pamphlet on friendship, A Tipe or figure of friendship ; rather, these texts focus on presenting action consistent with, or, contrarily, in opposition to, fundamental doctrines of T udor friendship discourse (sig. A4v). 82 In the case of Two Gentlemen, this assumption of prior audience kno wledge liberates Shakespeare from lengthy elucidation of friendship conventions, and, keeping with the play™s emphasis on the import of ethical action, multiplies the opportuniti es to demonstrate how caring for the self is grounded in mindfulness of emotional invest ment. Moreover, assumptions of audience knowledge in Two Gentlemen underscores the methodological conundrum faced by literary scholars and social historians that Alan Bray characterizes as fithe beguiling assumptionsfl a culture inscribes in its material and cultural text s Œ that is, the fipoints that are too obvious to need explanation, [because] their import will be self-evident to the readerfl (20). A closer examination of these ea rlier materials, particularly De amicitia and the friendship pamphlets of Breme et al., illuminate how a belief that one must first learn to take care of the self before others functions as a genera l imperative of Tudor frie ndship discourse and an assumption that has yet to be considered at le ngth. Indeed, Cicero™s claim that fundamentally fieveryone loves himself–and unless this same fee ling were transferred to friendship, the real friend can never be foundfl attests to the import accorded to the care of the self (Falconer 82 See Mills, 259. 89 XXI.80). 83 An anonymously authored pamphlet from 1596, The Triall of true Friendship , broaches the topic of caring for the self more bluntly by asking th e reader fihow should we thinke that they [the friend] wil alwa ys l[o]ve us, when they wil hate themselvesfl (sig. C2r). To a large degree, Tudor friendship discour se depicts self-disc overy wrought by the care of the self as the linchpin of society. The inverse, however, is also true. Affection, as a normative marker through which communal duties are measured, suggests that community is equally the linchpin of friendship an d the care of the self. In order to better illuminate the import attached to what Hutter terms the fipsychic regimes of the selffl Œ regimes that he sees encompassing both affective and civic relationsh ips Œ in the era™s fr iendship materials and Shakespeare™s Two Gentlemen, I now turn to the posthumously published lectures of Michel Foucault entitled The Hermeneutics of the Subject (fiVirtuefl 134). Delivered at the Collège de France during th e 1981-82 academic year, Foucault™s lectures on the ficonnection between the care of the self with politics, pedagogy, and self-knowledgefl prove insightful for an examination of emotiona l awareness and subjectivity in Shakespeare™s comedy as well as Tudor friendship discourse (494). Not only does Foucault discuss at length friendship and the care of the self in Epicur ean and Stoic thought, both of which leave an indelible mark on Tudor friendship discourse and sixteenth-century translations of De amicitia , but he likewise examines how these materials align undisciplined emotion in friendship, often perceived as encouraging excessive selfishness or selflessness due to la ck of reflection, with 83 Unless noted, modernized citations of De amicitia refer to Falconer™s Loeb edition. For ease of cross-reference with other modern tr anslations, I cite the text according to section and paragraph number. 90 fierratic–concern for the otherfl (198). 84 Foucault™s contention that the ficare of the self and care of othersfl is inextricably bound illuminates the di alectical tension, discussed in Tudor friendship discourse, between selfishness and selflessness (195). It likewise helps us understand how the era™s friendship discourse frequently perceive s caring for the self as a continual struggle encountered in attempts to fashion oneself to be a ‚good man.™ The import attributed to self-love and se lf-knowledge in early modern friendship discourse has not been completely overlooked in current literary and cultural scholarship. Laurie Shannon, for instance, tangentially notes that Cicer o™s belief infi[t]he fee ling of self-lovefl in De amicitia underscores how love of the self fimust activ ely be transferred and reconfigured toward anotherfl in order to realize fr iendship (41). Wendy Olmsted lik ewise observes how early modern rhetorical handbooks, along with the literature of Sidney, portray fiself-knowledgefl as a corrective to fithe influence of innate self-love fl (42). While both scholars gesture toward the centrality accorded to emotional awareness in ea rly modern literature and culture, they refrain from elaborating how these concerns richly articula te a Tudor conception of the care of the self Œ indeed, Shannon restricts her comment to general characterizations of De amicitia rather than a period specific reception in Tudor literature, wh ile Olmsted, for the most part, confines her 84 See, Jill Kraye et al, Humanism and Early Modern Philosophy (Routledge, 2000), xi-xiii; Kraye, fiMoral Philosophyfl and Paul Oskar Kristeller, fiHumanism,fl in The Cambridge History of Renaissance Philosophy (Cambridge, 1988), 301-86 and 111-138; Reid Barbour, English Epicures and Stoics (Amherst, 1998); Catherine Wilson, fiEpicureanism in Early Modern Philosophy,fl in Cambridge Companion to Epicureanism (Cambridge, 2009), 266-86; and, Geoffrey Miles, Shakespeare and the Constant Romans (Clarendon, 1996). 91 discussion of self-knowledge to mo des of persuasion amongst friends. Although a few studies of early modern literature and cultur e employ the care of the self as a theoretical frame through which to examine a discourse of pleasure a nd desire, the topic of friendship has yet to be approached using id eas Foucault expounds upon in his Collège lectures. A general application of the care of th e self, albeit derived from Foucault™s The Use of Pleasure , can be found in Michael Schoenfeldt™s study of inwardness in early modern literature and culture. Indeed, Schoenfeldt™s ex amination of the technique of self-regulation demonstrates, for instance, how Shakespeare represen ts the care of the self in the sonnets as fia practice by which one can become master rather than slave of one™s own pleasures and desires,fl or Spenser, in his Faerie Queene , as an fi‚ascetics™ that enable[s] one to make oneself into an ethical subjectfl (95; 70). Gur Zak likewise draws on the latter volumes of The History of Sexuality in his exploration of the fragmented self in Petrarch™s sonnets a nd, more generally, Petrar chan humanism. Similar to Schoenfeldt, Zak contends that Petrarch employs the care of the self in order to underscore the necessity of governing one™s pass ions as well as minimizing ment al anguish or what Petrarch terms one™s inward fiexile from virtuefl (87). Drawing on the scholarship outlined above, this chapter thus aims to demonstrat e how Foucault™s 1982 lectures on the care of the self in antiquity prove invaluable to an examination of Shakesp eare™s maligned comedy, texts central to the study of Tudor friendship discourse, as we ll as recent interest in the discourse of emotions in early modern English culture. Foucault and the Care of the Self: The 1982 Lectures Delivered during the period of Foucault™s t hought commonly referred to by scholars as his ‚ethical turn,™ the 1982 lectures survey the fihis tory of practices of subjectivityfl in antiquity 92 (11). 85 Focusing on conceptions of the self and se lf-study in Hellenic and Roman culture, along with its legacy in modern thought, Foucault fisteps back a bitfl from the topic of fithe question of the regimen of sexual behavior and pleasures in Antiquityfl addr essed the previous year and broadly examines the ethics of self-fashioning (2). 86 In the inaugural 1982 lecture, Foucault argues that according to classical thought, ethi cal agency depends on the practices of fi epimeleia heautou (care of the self) and the gnthi seauton (‚know yourself™)fl (3). According to Foucault, ‚care of the self™ broadly en compasses three significant practi ces that fluctuate throughout history: (1) a behavior or fiattitude towards the se lf, others, and worldfl; (2) an ability to reflect and fiattend to what we think or what takes place in our thoughtfl; and, (3) the ability to realize an ideal self through fia numb er of actions [such as]–techniqu es of meditation–[or] examination of consciencefl (10-11). In later l ectures he likewise outlines thre e practices associated with the 85 Works produced during this period include the latter titles from the recently published Collège de France lectures, volumes two and three of The History of Sexuality , and myriad interviews. See, The Government of Self and Others (Palgrave, 2010); The Courage of Truth (Palgrave, 2011); The Use of Pleasure (Vintage, 1990); The Care of the Self (Vintage, 1990). Two invaluable interviews are fiO n the Genealogy of Ethicsfl and fiThe Ethics for the Concern of Self as a Practice of Freedom,fl in The Essential Works of Michel Foucault, vol 1 (New Press, 1997), 253-80 and 281-302. Also see Foucault™s 1983 Berkeley lectures, Fearless Speech (Semiotext(e), 2001). 86 Foucault™s 1980-81 lectures on aphrodisia provide the foundation for The Care of the Self. Frédéric Gros, in the epilogue to Hermeneutics contends that the 1982 lecture is an expanded version of the chapter entitled, fiThe Cultivation of the Selffl (507-8). See The Care of the Self, 37-68. While Foucault firmly remains in the realm of classi cal thought in the 1982 lectures, most notably Plato, Epictetus, Epicur us, Seneca, and Galen, he also stress how the history of ethics, which he understands to be a history of the subject and its relation to fispiritualityfl and fitruth,fl is at odds with m odern perspectives of subjectivity and knowledge. See the lecture from January 6, 1982, hour one an d the appended course summary. Also see Mark G.E. Kelly™s review of the published lectures on how the 1982 seminar was, in all likelihood, an outline of the fourth volume in The History of Sexuality. fiReview: Michel Foucault, The Hermeneutics of the Subject. fl Foucault Studies 3 (2005): 107-112. 93 directive ‚know yourself.™ On a fundamental level, or what he terms its fiweak formfl in antiquity, the imperative ‚know yourself™ compels one to pr actice fia counsel of prudencefl and to reflect on personal shortcomings or imperfections, while a slightly more complex connotation centers on fia methodological questionfl of what constitutes a self (35; 67). According to Foucault, the third, and inarguably most important, iteration of the imperative ‚know yourself ™ in fiall its splendor and fullness [is the realization that] [c]are of the self must consist in knowl edge of the selffl (67). Foucault ultimately demonstrates in his lectures that while care and knowledge of the self are construed as inseparable prior to the emerge nce of Cartesian thought, the imperative fiknow yourself [is always] subordinate to take care of yourselffl (4).87 A course summary submitted by Foucault to the Collège in June of 1982 where, as Ewald and Fontana note in the foreword to the Hermeneutics , he firetrospective ly [reflects on] the intention and objectives of the course,fl clarifies how hi s lectures prove germane to understanding an emphasis in T udor friendship discourse on fash ioning oneself a ‚good man™ or moral subject (xvi). 88 This is particularly the case with th e import attributed in Tudor friendship materials to emotional awareness and communal du ties since Foucault contends that these twin practices underpin the ca re of the self. His discussion of fit he connection between the care of the self with politics, pedagogy, and self-knowledgefl is perhaps the best place to turn since he tethers these aspects to one™s awareness of emotions and communal affiliation (494). 87 See fi6 January 1982: First hour,fl 14-17. 88 See fiCourse Summary,fl 491-505. For an alte rnative translation of the summary by Paul Rabinow, see Foucault, Ethics: Subjectivity and Truth (New Press, 1997), 93-106. 94 Similar to an emphasis in Tudor translations of De amicitia on first learning to cultivate a ‚love and dearness™ toward the se lf before extending it to others , Foucault observes how classical texts stress the necessity to politic al life of fitaking care of oneself, for oneselffl (494). This is not to suggest that the care of the self is prior to or somehow divorced from politics Œ indeed, a central facet of the 1982 lectures focus on how ca ring for the self is fundamentally informed by politics or , as fia form of life,fl is fundamentally political (494). 89 Rather, Foucault claims that on a basic level, care of the self in antiquity stre sses the need for one to be an active in terms of cultivating, disciplining, and relishing the self. In this respect, care of the self is fisometimes conceived in terms of the juridi co-political model: being soverei gn over oneself, [and] exercising perfect control over oneself,fl particularly in term s of curtailing destructiv e behavior arising from unruly emotions, anxiety, lack of empathy, etc., but also in regards to fiself-enjoyment, taking one™s pleasure with oneself, finding all one™s delight in the self,fl to the point that self-respect demands one to be an activ e, ethical agent (495). According to these discussions, the surest way of learning to take care of the self is cultivating a critical awareness of bad habits and striving toward their cessation. As a ficritical function,fl taking care of the se lf, first and foremost, involve s fiunlearn[ing]fl and relieving fioneself of all bad habits,fl including, as Fou cault demonstrates in his lectures, fiirrational impulse[s]fl arising from ex cessive passion (496; 98). 90 Learning to master emotions and overcome disproportionate fipleasures, desires, sorro ws, fears, greed, stupidityfl etc. is seen as 89 See fi06, January, 1982: Second Hour.fl 90 See fi20 January 1982, First Hour,fl 97-99; fi20 January 1982, Second Hour,fl115-7; and fi3 February 1982: Second Hour,fl 197-98. 95 minimizing mental anguish in the self and enc ouraging overall well-being (116). A desire to attain such mastery, Foucault c ontends, forms the ficurative and th erapeutic functionfl of learning to care for the self (496). The political and pedagogical aspects of car ing for the self also solidify communal relationships. Indeed, discussions in antiquity concurrently emphasize how taking care of the self is essential for the health of the polis and the wider community Œ Foucault, citing Plato™s Alcibiades, argues that this centers on promoting the belief that one fihad to take care of himself if he wished to take care of ot hers laterfl (494). Likewise, Foucau lt contends that the care of the self, including its political and pe dagogical facets, is reliant on nume rous social relations to help guide it, such as fischolastic organizations,fl fipri vate counselorsfl and tutors, fifamily,fl patronage, elder relationships, and, apropos to the current chapter, fifriends hipfl (497). This dependency on others underscores how fi[n]ot being able to take care of oneself without the help of someone else was generally an accepted principlefl (496). As such, controlling one™s emotions become more significant, since it not only curbs mental angui sh but also helps fiproduce or induce behavior through which one will actually be able to take care of othersfl ( 198). But how does one learn to take care of the self and to distinguish betw een ‚productive™ and ‚unp roductive™ emotions in friendship? A lecture from th e second hour of February 3 rd proves germane to this question as well as the link between ‚politics, pedagogy, and se lf-knowledge™ in the care of the self and friendship. In his discussion of Stoic ‚commutuality™ an d Epicurean friendship, Fo ucault argues that an awareness of one™s status as fithe object of his carefl readily lends itself to an awareness of community, most notably how ficare of the self a nd care of othersfl is inextricably bound (195-7). For instance, the fiStoic concepti on of man as a communal bei ngfl advanced by Epictetus, a 96 Green Stoic from the second century CE, locates this awareness in the catechism conducted by the self on the self (195). As Foucault explains: Taking himself as the object of his care, he has to ask himself what he himself is–and what are the things that are not hi m. He has to ask himself what depends on him and what does not depend on him. An d finally he has to ask himself what is appropriate for him to do or not to do, in accordance with the categories of kathkonta or promena [i.e., communal responsibilities and mores], etcetera. Consequently, the person who takes care of himself properly–will at the same time know how to fulfill his duties as part of the human community. He will know how to fulfill the duties of father, son, hus band, and citizen, precisely because he will attend to himself. (196-7) 91Here, Foucault demonstrates how an awareness of self-knowledge and pract ice prove intrinsic to classical conceptions of the care of the self. In what he later desc ribes in the course summary as the merger of knowledge and practi ce Œ i.e., the merger of fian a ttitude of awar enessfl with fia regular occupationfl Œ Foucault illustrates in the a bove instance how a cognizance that the self is entrusted to take care of itself Œ i.e., that the se lf, as a sovereign subject and fithe object of [its] care,fl is capable of internal deliberation and external action Œ comes to fruition only when 91 As Frédéric Gros observes in his endnote to this passage, fi[i]n Stoicism kathkonta (translated by Cicero as officia: duties, functions, offices) designates activities that conform to and realize a being™s nature; promena refer to those actions that, although not of absolute value from the moral point of view, are liable to be preferred to their contraries.fl See Hermeneutics 203, e. n. 13. For clarity as to how kath konta are colored by communal affiliation, see Epictetus Discourse 2.10 in Brad Inwood and Lloyd Gerson™s The Stoics Reader: Selected Writings and Testimonia (Hackett, 2008), 200-202. 97 tethered to a host of communal responsibilities and mores (492). As this passage demonstrates, classical discussions of the care of the self claim that social positions such as fifather, son, husband, and citizenfl limn the resp onsibilities and duties of the self toward itself and a wider community. Furthermore, the connection between self and community is illuminated through Epictetus™s contention that the ability to fiproperly–a ttend to [the] selffl is part and parcel of an ability to attend to the wider fiduties–of the human communityfl in which it resides. In the following section, I examine how Tudor friendship materials, most notably translations of Cicero™s De amicitia and the late-sixteenth-century pa mphlets on friendship, make a similar claim. Indeed, one late-Tudor pamphlet, Walter Breme™s 1584, The mirrour of friendship , mostly concerns itself with fiwhat dueties of human itie the most excellent name of friendship doth mutually requirefl one to achieve for both the se lf and a broader community Œ a sentiment that Tudor translations of De amicitia stress (sig. A3r). Inherent to the recognition of learning to ‚properly attend to the self™ is the import of not forgetting oneself by being fidisturbed by passion a nd affectionfl for others (198). As Foucault observes in the inaugural lecture, this is the figen eral rulefl of caring for the self in Hellenic and Roman thought: fiYou must attend to yourself, you mu st not forget yourself, you must take care of yourselffl (5). Subsequently, he contends th at forgetting oneself ma nifests through fierratic care or erratic concern–for the otherfl or an imbalance between utility and selflessness in friendship (198). Foucault™s 1982 lectures amply demonstrate how care of the self in Hellenic and Roman 98 culture has broader applicat ions and implications beyond aphrodisia. 92 Though composed prior to the publication of the Collège lectures, Wolf gang Detel notes in his study of Foucault and antiquity that Hellenic and Roma n thought situates the care of th e self, first and foremost, in relation to happiness ( eudaimonia) and virtue (arête) rather than pleasure and desire ( aphrodisia) (58). 93 A broader meditation on the care of the self is perhaps most evident in classical discussions of friendship, since th ese texts typically construe frie ndship as the principle source from which arête and eudaimonia spring. 94 Discussions of friendship in Tudor literature and culture likewise echo this sentiment of friendship as the wellspring of happiness a nd virtue and simultaneously expound upon ideas glossed by Foucault in his 1982 Collège lectures. Tudor translations of De amicitia , for instance, claim friendship is the definitive example of fithe happy lifefl and that fivertue it is, whiche bothe engendreth and upholdeth freendshipfl (Tiptoft sig. G5v; Harington sig. B6v). Erasmus, in the 1508 preface to the Adages, echoes Cicero through his contention that friendship is fithe whole of human happinessfl while Thomas Churchyard™s 1588, A spark of frendship, claims fifriendship is 92 Alan Bray arrives at a similar conclusion in his discussion of fimodern debatesfl of Renaissance friendship in purely sexual terms, 6-7. Heyking and Avramenko echo this sentiment through their clam that fiwe seem unable to underst and friendship and the act of sharing in terms that are neither romantic nor sexualfl (3). 93 See Detel, 58-92. A manuscript of the 1982 lectures circulated widely among scholars for numerous years prior to their 2004 publication. 94 Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism w ould be one exception. According to Zeno, friendship may lead to happiness but it is not a prerequisite for happiness. See Hyatte, 23. 99 a ring-leader to all happinessfl (15; sig. C2r). 95 Richard Edwards™ mid-century tragicomedy, the 1564 Damon and Pythias, likewise envisions friendship as fic onserved by virtue,fl and Nicholas Grimald, in his 1557 versification of De amicitia in Tottel™s Miscellany , observes how fiTrue virtue gets, and keeps a friendfl (line 44; line 6). 96 While Tudor theories of friendship, at their most eloquent, starkly divide friendship as either fio rdinaryfl or fifau ltless,fl that is, predicated on utility or pleasure as opposed to virtue, they also stress vigilance as regards its everyday practice (Falconer VI.22). 97 In a manner reminiscent of Foucault™s discu ssion of caring for the self in friendship, Tudor translations of Cicero emphasize the import of practici ng fia counsel of prudencefl in which one cultivates an awareness of potentially ‚unproductive™ emotions and reflects on what it means to be a sovereign self responsible for the modification of one™s behavior. Given its pervasive influence in Tudor culture as we ll as friendship discour se, translations of De amicitia prove invaluable to this examination. Not only does De amicitia play a crucial role in Tudor education and humanism, as T.W. Baldwin and others note, but it al so leaves an indelible mark on Tudor characterizations of friendship Œ indee d, most of the early m odern texts previously 95 Unless specified, citations of the Adages refer to Phillips. 96 Grimald™s poem is included in all subsequent editions of Tottel, although its position changes after the first edition. See Amanda Holton and To m MacFaul, fiIntroduction,fl Tottel™s Miscellany (Penguin, 2011), xx-xxii. 97 John Tiptoft, in his late 1481 translation of De amicitia uses the terms fivulgar & meanefl and fivery and parfyghtfl(sig. A7v). John Harington uses ficommon or meanefl and fitrue and perfectefl in his 1550 translation ,while Thomas Newton, in his 1577 translation, employs fivulgare or meanefl and fitrue and perfectfl (sig. B8r; sig. B3r). 100 cited derive their estimation of friendship as the wellspring of happiness and virtue from Cicero. More important to the present discussi on, however, is the attention devoted in De amicitia to the primacy of caring for the self. Translations of De amicitia lay claim to the belief that taking care of the self engenders an ability to take care of others, and thus, one™s be havior or what Foucault terms fiattitude towards the self, others, and worl dfl should be closely monitored. Both of these sentiments are elaborated in the late sixteen th century friendship pamphlets. Indeed the pamphlets of Breme et al. claim that the fitherape utic and curativefl functi on of taking care of the self is readily achie ved through reflection and meditation on one™s emotions. These texts likewise clarify the quasi-republican aspect of De amicitia that being sovereign over the self centers on one™s duties to a wider community. Friendship pamphlets such as Churchyard™s contend that fiman is not made for himself, cr eated to be king of earthly delights, and placed amidst the pleasures of the worlde, to doe what he pleaseth, but chiefly to looke and with good aduisement to search, how and in what sort he may be duetiful and bene ficiall to his countriefl (sig. B2r). The proceeding section thus also co nsiders how these pamphlets, along with Tudor translations of De amicitia , portray the fipolitics, pedagogy, a nd self-knowledgefl Foucault sees as intrinsic to the care of the self. fithe knot of frendshipfl: The Care of the Self in Tudor Friendship Pamphlets As current scholarship on the topic of early modern friendship abundantly demonstrates, the era™s discourse derives its conceptual fr amework from Latin and Greek sources on the subject, most notably Cicero™s De amicitia, Aristotle™s Nicomachean Ethics, and Plutarch™s essays on flattery in the Moralia. Drawing on these antecedents, and De amicitia in particular, Tudor examinations frequently anatomize friends hip through a distinction between fiordinary and commonplace friendshipfl in opposition to a fi pure and faultless kind,fl to use Cicero™s 101 terminology (Falconer VI.22). In fitheoretical structures and exemplary narrativesfl of friendship in Tudor culture, to borrow a phrase from Lo chman and López, the impetus behind friendship further limns the distinction between fifaultlessfl and ficommonplacefl (26). Virtue and goodness, or at least, according to Elyot, one™s ability to fifollowe [them] (as moche as men may),fl are seen to form the basis of fipure and faultless friendsh ip,fl while utility and pl easure are perceived as the foundation of typically short-lived fiord inary and commonplacefl friendships (122). As Shannon persuasively demonstrates , an approximate unan imity of characteris tics between friends such as likeness, benevolence, fidelity, counsel, and proximity of habitati on are also depicted in theoretical and narrative articulations as ge rmane to both fifaultlessfl and ficommonplacefl friendships. A focus on Cicero in the current discussi on should not be taken as a sign of the irrelevancy in Tudor culture of other Hellenic an d Roman texts on friendship, particularly those by Plato, Aristotle, and Plutarch; rather it st ems largely from the general visibility of De amicitia in English culture and literature. 98 As T.W. Baldwin notes in his magisterial study of Tudor 98 Extant Tudor friendship material s demonstrate the centrality of De amicitia to the era™s discourse. They also underscore the near absence of Greek sources, or, at best, their confinement to specific intellectual circles. Fo r instance, aside from Marsilio Ficino™s Latin commentary on The Symposium, Plato™s treatment of friendship in either the aforementioned text or the Lysis receives scant attention, although Elyot, in the Boke named the governour, is rather fond of Plato, as is Erasmus in the 1508 edition of the Adages. Aristotle™s Nicomachean Ethics fares slightly better, particularly in English universities such as Oxford and Cambridge, which favor him over Cicero™s dialogue. For an ove rview of Tudor Platonism, see Sears Jayne, fiPlatonism of the English Renaissance.fl Comparative Literature 4.3 (1952), 214-38. Also see his more recent Plato in Renaissance England (Kluwer Academic Publishers, 1995). For an overview of Aristotelianism in Tudor England, particularly, its dissemination in university and other intellectual circles, see Charles B. Schmitt, John Case and Aristotelianism in Renaissance England (McGill-Queen™s, 1983), 1-29. Also see Case™s 1585 Speculum moralium quaestionium, which as Schmitt notes, is the standard textbook for studying the Ethics at the university- level in late-Tudor culture (3). It is reprinted eleven times between 1585 and 1630. Only one translation 102 education, De amicitia functions as a core text of lower form curriculums, most notably, as an introduction to Latin language and moral philosophy (2:590). 99 In addition to its pedagogical role in the classroom, where, as Shannon obser ves, fiit must be among the most commonly learned Latin texts in the Tudor era,fl De amicitia enjoys a wide circulation in the era™s literature (28). Cicero™s text on friendship appears in a variety of literary forms dur ing the period, ranging from the ‚vulgar™ translations printed in Engl ish, to a variety of texts on friendship which it clearly influences, including, among the more prom inent examples, pamphlets, university drama, and low ballads. 100 Indeed, as Mills notes, some of the earliest titles turned out by Caxton of the Ethics in the fivulgare toung,fl as Wilkinson characterizes his 1547 abridgement of Brunetto Latini™s medieval translation, is pr oduced during the sixteenth-century (sig. A2r). Wilkinson™s translation is never reprinted. For the an overview of Cicero in Tudor university curriculums, see Howard Jones, Cicero: Master Tully in Tudor England (De Graaf, 1998), 217-19 and 231-46. Two essays by Plutarch, fiHow a Man May Discerne a Flatterer From a Friendfl and (to a lesser extent) fiOf the Plurality of Friends,fl leave an indelible mark on sixteenth- century formulations, particularly in terms of h azards caused by excessive self-love, instrumental use of persuasive speech, and an inordinate number of friends. See Philemon Holland, The philosophie, commonlie called, the morals writt en by the learned philosopher Plutarch of Chaerones, (Arnold Hatfield, 1603), sig. G6r-K4v and sig. T4v-U1r. Holland™s text is one of the earlier, if not earliest, ‚vulgar™ translations of Plutarch™s Moralia. I discuss Plutarch at length in the next chapter. 99 See, Baldwin, 1:287; 1:341; 1:349-50; 1:367; 2:593; 2:601. Also see, Carroll, 5; Howard, 197; King, 56-7; Mills, 78-79; Shannon, 26-7. 100 Though it is difficult to determine with certainty the various Latin editions of De amicitia imported from the Continent and in circulati on during the era, it is far more manageable to identify the English translations. The ease of this task arises, su rprisingly, from the few ‚vulgar™ translations available during the Tudor era. During this period, as Ruth Hughey and Mills note, English printing presses only produce three translations: John Tiptoft™s translation from the Latin text (printed by Caxton in 1481 and reprinted by W. Ratsell in 1531); John Harington™s translation from a Fren ch edition (printed by T. Berthelette in 1550 and T. Powell in 1562); and Thomas Newton™s translation from La tin supplemented by a revision of Harington (printed by T.Marshe in 1577). See Hughey, John Harington of Stepney: Tudor Gentlemen; His Life and Works (Ohio State, 1971), 259; Mills, 79-81. It would be fallacious, however, to assume 103 include Cicero™s De amicitia . 101 The presence of De amicitia in an array of social settings such as the classroom, the alehouse, and the university and popular st age, speak to what William C. Carroll characterizes in his discussion of early modern curriculums as fithe widening arc of transmissionfl of Cicero in Tudor culture (5). It likewis e offers further evidence of widespread dissemination of Ciceronian concepti ons of friendship and suggests that Carroll™s estimation how fianyone could have learned the essay™s basic in sights elsewhere, from both elite and popular culturefl proves highly probable (5). Aside from its extensive utility in lower fo rm education and broad presence in the era™s literature, the prominence of De amicitia in Tudor culture stems, in all likelihood, from an alignment of Cicero™s republican id ea of friendship with fundament al principles of Tudor civic humanism, most notably its emphasis on the vita activa . The fipragmatic application–of classical learningfl that Jonathan Woolfson observes as central to the vita activa of Tudor civic humanism, particularly the belie f that the self enhances serv ice to the common weal through cultivation of a strong fimoral foundation,fl and vice versa, re sonates with Cicero™s text on friendship (9). 102 An interest in the instrumental and po litical use of humanist education surely that a slim number of translations equate a na rrow impact on Tudor friendship discourse. Indeed, as I demonstrate in this chapter, the visibility of De amicitia in a variety of cultural texts and venues lends credence to claims of its centrality in Tudor friendship discourse. Many of the titles that incorporate De amicitia are cited in the chapter introduction. Shannon, quoting Roger Chartier, observes how during the era fithe same texts and the same books often circulated in all social milieusfl (29). 101 See Mills, 79. 102 See Mills, 111 for how friendship appeals to humanism™s vita activa . For a succinct overview of republican virtue in De amicitia , see Hyatte, 27. For a thorough discussion of civic 104 found a boon in Cicero™s depiction of fifriendship as the microc osm of politics,fl to borrow a phrase from John von Heyking (9). 103 Indeed, as Tom MacFaul contends, a Renaissance fi[h]umanist ideology of friendship tried to ma ke friendship the most important thing in the worldfl (1). A belief in the necessity of caring for the self in Tudor friendship discourse, particularly as regards cultivating the ‚moral foundation™ Woolfson envisions as endemic to Tudor humanism, is readily affirmed through the import attached to self-love. Different from the vainglory discussed in Sonnet 62 or embodied by the steward Malvolio, this form of love is more akin to the fiallowable self-love fl of Jonson™s Storge, that finat ural Affection–given to us to humanism in Tudor culture, see Jonathan Woolfson, fiIntroduction,fl Reassessing Tudor Humanism (Palgrave, 2002), 1-21. Despite the caution one should exercise in investing humanism with a broad ideologi cal program or philosophy, since, as Alastair Fox and John Guy remind us, it flattens sixteenth-century Eng lish culture, Woolfson nonetheless provides three reasons to consider Christian and civic humanisms as coherent projects during the Tudor era: (1) both embody an interest and concern in fisupplyi ng the practical skills and a moral formation appropriate to public lifefl; (2) both function as fia tool of other ideological purposesfl; and, (3) both reinvigorate and underscore the cultural differences betw een modern and early modern humanisms (4). See Alastair Fox and John Guy, Reassessing the Henrican Age: Humanism, Politics and Reform 1500-1550 (Blackwell, 1986), 1-76. Also see Markku Peltonen™s examination of the legacy of Roman republican ism in early modern English political thought, particularly in relati on to conceptions of vita activa : Classical Humanism and Republicanism in English Political Thought 1570-1640 (Cambridge, 1995). Mike Pincombe™s monograph on Tudor humanism is also enlightening, certain ly his sustained discussion of fiCiceronian humanitasfl (1). See Pincombe, Elizabethan Humanism: Literature and Learning in the Later Sixteenth Century (Longman, 2001), 1-36. Fina lly, Arthur Kinney™s Humanist Poetics: Thought, Rhetoric, and Fiction in Sixteenth-Century England (Massachusetts, 1986), 3-40 provides a succinct overview of Tudor humanism. 103 See Nicorgski, 94, for other instances in De amicitia that underscore how friendship is perceived by Cicero as a political microcosm. 105 procure our goodfl and ensure the deve lopment of our virtue (5.7.26-28). 104 The difference between a self-love where one learns to be virtu ous by loving the friend as an fialter-egofl from one fimotivated primarily by passion and desirefl and fiself-seeking,fl as Hutter characterizes Aristotelian claims of its efficacy in friends hip, surface in Tudor discussions of friendship, including Cicero™s De amicitia (Politics 113-14). 105 Sir Thomas Elyot™s 1539 collection of aphorisms, The bankette of sapience , for instance, begins its section on fiAmitiefl by noting, via an adage attributed to Augustine, that fithe very true law of amitie [requires] a man to love his frende no lesse nor more than he loveth him selfefl (q td in Mills 106). Thom as Wilkinson™s 1547 fivulgarefl and abridged translation of the Nicomachean Ethics echoes this sentiment of self-love through Aristotle™s insistence that fiA manne ought to love his fre nd, for in loving him he loveth him selffl (sig. A2r). John Dee™s 1598 commenta ry on Aristotle and Pl ato warns against the unscrupulous use of self-love for profit or pleasure, noting, fiHee th at loveth himself too much shall have no friendfl (sig. K2r). In De amicitia, Cicero likewise denounces a self-love driven by selfishness, utility, or pleasure, and implores the reader to meditate on how, as one Tudor translation phrases it, fievery man loveth him se lf and loketh after no reward for his lovefl (Tiptoft sig. C6r). 106 104 For a brief discussion of self-love in Cynthia™s Revels see James P. Bednarz, Shakespeare and the Poets War (Columbia, 2001), 182-85. Jonson™s depiction of a virtuous and fiallowable self-lovefl is indebted to Aristotelian thought on self-love in friendship. See Hutter, Politics, 113-114, for a succinct summary of friendship and self-love in the Nicomachean Ethics. For a counter argument to the role of self-l ove in Aristotle, see David Konstan, 77-78. 105 See Shannon, 1-53. 106 fiFor everyone loves himself, [but] not with a view of acquiring some profit from his self-love.fl See Falconer, XXI.79-80 and XXII.82. 106 While ethical self-love is typically seen as exclusive to Platonic, Aristotelian, and, to a degree, Augustinian theories of friendship, it is also a facet of Ciceronian conceptions. 107 In De amicitia, as Alexander Lee notes in his recent study of Petrarch™s use of antiquity, Cicero contends that filoving a friend [i]s akin to loving oneselffl ( 236). Indeed, Cicero™s emphasis on the import of ethical self-love, c ited above, lays claim to the belie f that in loving the friend one also loves oneself: fiEvery man l oveth him self and loketh after no reward for his love ffor every man for his owen sake is dere enough to him self . And onlesse that the said and same dernesse and love may be used in frendship a verray fren de shal never be founde ffor he is as though it were another than the samefl (Tiptoft sig. C6 r). Shannon, in her commentary on this passage, notes that fiCicero takes up an Ar istotelian analogy between self-love and friendshipfl in order to clarify how self-love sh ould be fidistinguished fro m selfishnessfl (40). In a manner reminiscent of Aristotle™s claim, to quote Regina ld Hyatte, that ethical self-love promotes fibetterment through self-knowledge,fl Cicero contends that it is not sufficient to simply recognize one™s natural capacity for self-love Œ i.e., that fievery man for his owen sake is dere enough to him selffl; rather, as he later argues, one cultivates an ethical self and filearns self-love by clinging to virtue and rejecting all vice,fl to borrow a phrase from Lee (18; 236). The perceived primacy of the self in friends hip is not lost in T udor translations of De amicitia. John Harington, in prefatory material to his 1562 translati on, contends that friendship, above all, centers on how to fiorder and govern [the ] selffl (sig. A7v). As hi s translation of Cicero later clarifies, ‚governing the self™ begins with the recogni tion that fiby nature–man–loveth 107 See Plato, Lysis (or On Friendship ) and Symposium in Lysis, Symposium, Gorgias (Harvard, 1983), 1-72 & 73-246; Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics (Harvard ) BK VIII & IX. 107 him selffl (sig. G3v). ‚Ordering th e self™ likewise proceeds from jo ining this recognition with an ability to bestow on the friend a similar degree of filove and dearen essfl ‚naturally™ held toward the self (sig. G2v). If one finds these forms of governing and or dering too arduous or impossible to achieve, Cicero advises that fiit is first m[ean]t e, that one be good himself, and the[n] s[e]ke after for his likefl (sig. G4r). John Tiptoft™s 1481 translation renders this latter directive more eloquently as fia man [must] first make him se lf a good man and thenne seke another like him selffl: [B]y nature in a man that he sholde love him self, and gete him another, whos will he shold medle with his, th at of tho tweine he shold make wel nigh one. But many men ful cursedly, I wil not saye unshamefas tly, refuse to have suche a frende, ffor they can not be suche one theym self. A nd they desire of their frendes suche thinges, as they wolde not departe with th em self, at their frendes desire. It is resonable that a man firs t make him self a good man and thenne seke another like him self. And in suche tweine that stablene sse of frendship that we trete of before may be confermed, whan men joined t ogedre in benevolence can gete the soverainte of suche lustes. (sig. D1v)But according to Cicero and Tudor friendship discourse, how does one fimake him selfe a good manfl? Equally important, what does it mean in this discourse to be fia good manfl to the self and to others? According to Tudor translations of De amicitia , the ability to control emotions, or figete the soverainte of suche lustes,fl is the principa l strategy for fashioning the self to be a good man. Mindfulness proves germane to this counsel, mo st notably as a way to temper potentially ‚unproductive™ emotions and behavior Œ indeed, Cicero stresses the need for the self to not forget 108 that friendship, as fithe helper of vertue and not the felawe of vice,fl contributes to the development of benevolence, constancy, and love in the self (sig C6v). Accordingly, friendship essentially hinges on this pedagogical facet, si nce it quickly dispels the notion that fiby freendship, a gate is set open to all luste and vicefl (sig. C6v). The friendship pamphlets from the latter pa rt of the sixteenth-century complement Cicero™s directive of mindfulne ss by stressing the import of regularly reflecting on one™s command of their emotions. De amicitia advises the self to moderate emotions such as fisadnesse,fl fisouwerness and solemnessefl due to th eir disruptive nature in caring for the self and others Œ this is later echoed in Dorke™s pamphl et as the need to shun filumpish sadnesse, and sullen sowrenessefl (sig. B2v). Friendship pamphl ets such as Breme™s 1584 likewise urge one fioften to examine thy selffl and reflect on th e level of command or degree of fitemperancefl of emotions such as ficlemency,fl fipatience,fl and fihumanityfl (sig. B8v). 108 Although the discussion of mindfulness of emotions in both Cicero and the friendship pamphlets address how it can usefully serve as an anodyne to selfishness, De amicitia is one of the few Tudor texts on friendship before Two Gentlemen that broaches how excessive se lflessness can potentially arise from undisciplined emotion Œ indeed, Cicero cautions one to be mindful that the figrefe of minde that is oftentimes to be taken for freendes is not so great as it ought to take awaye freendship.fl 108 Plutarch likewise contends that reflection is the best way to avoid the flatterer. He advises, in a manner similar to Cicero, to esch ew the ego and selfishness that is contrary to ethical self-love. See Plutarch, fiHow a Man May Discern a Flatterer From a Friend.fl The philosophie, commonlie called, the morals writt en by the learned philosopher Plutarch of Chaeronea. Translated out of Greeke into English, and conferred with the Latine translations and the French by Philomen Holland of Coventrie (London, 1603), sig. G6r-K4v. 109 The import attributed to the car e of the self in Tudor friends hip discourse, particularly as the pivotal method of learning th rough affection how to ‚properly™ function socially, demonstrate that fashioning one™s self fia good manfl is seen dur ing the era as inextric ably linked to larger social formations. The classical antecedents from which Tudor friendship discourse freely draw hinge on the period specific noti on that fiaffections [are]–a certain rule to measure duties by,fl to quote one mid-sixteenth text on so ciality, a 1567 translation of The manuell of Epictetus (sig. D5v). Indeed, similar to Foucault ™s discussion of Epictetus a nd the need for one to ‚tak[e] himself as the object of his care™, texts such as Br eme™s assert that affection in friendship acts as a pedagogical device which clar ifies fiwhat dueties of humanitie the most excellent name of friendship doth mutually requirefl one to achieve for both the self and a broader community (sig. A3r). Similar to Cicero™s imperative in De amicitia that one must transfer the filove and dearenessfl ‚naturally™ held toward the self to another, pamphlets such as Churchyard™s extend this finatural dispositionfl to r ealizing and perfecting through friends hip the fiaffectionat love that all men in general ought to bear to their countriefl (sig. B1v-B2r). Churchyard likewise contends that internal discipline of emotion encourages on e fito keep the right and plaine path of natural affection towards their countrie and friendsfl (sig. B3r). 109 Indeed, one should, according to 109 For the polyvalence of the term ‚societie™ in early mode rn English culture, see Phil Withington™s recent monograph, Society in Early Modern England : The Vernacular Origins of Some Powerful Ideas (Polity, 2010), 102-133 and 169-201. For a discussion of the body as metaphor for the commonweal, see David Gregory Hale, The Body Politic : A Political Metaphor in Renaissance English Literature (Mouton, 1971) and Jonathan Gil Harris Foreign Bodies and the Body Politic: Discourse s of Social Pathology in Early Modern England (Cambridge, 1998), 1-19. 110 Churchyard, reflect and fichiefly to look and with good advisement search, how and what sort he may be duetiful and beneficiall to his countriefl (sig. B2r). Cicero contends that friendshi p, as eloquently expressed by Harington, functions as the basis of all civic organization to the extent that fiif you should take out of the worlde, the knot of fre[–]ndship, n[e]ither can there be any house, neith er any citie be able to continue, no not the tillage of the land can endurefl (sig. B8r-C1v). Breme likewis e contends that friendship concurrently functions as a priv ate affair and the basis of co mmunity. In an appeal to the polyvalence of the term fisocietiefl in Tudor cult ure as a marker of intimate fellowship between few and many, and likewise drawing on the organic metaphor of the body, Breme claims friendship as fione of the most precious ornaments and necessary instruments belonging to this our variable life, and without it (no more then the body of man without sinews and joints the societie of men cannot existfl) (sig. A3r). Chur chyard likewise appeals to an organic metaphor, and echoes Breme, through his contention that fias the sinowes is needfull for the body, the marrow for the bones, and the blood for the life: so friendship is most fittest to knit the jointes and mindes of men together, and bindes them about with such brazen bandes, that no barres of iron may breake, nor policie of people may put asunderfl (sig. B3v).. Breme™s fidueties of humanitiefl and Churchyard ™s finatural affection towards–countriefl suggest that one™s emotional well-being in friendshi p, particularly as it re lates to the ability to identify and suppress ‚unproductive™ emotions, is perc eived as pivotal to the care of the self, the community, and the country. The correlation between care of the self and community in Tudor materials can be traced back to foundational texts on friendship by Plato, Aristotle, and Cicero. As Hutter notes in his study on friendship in indus trialized society, these classical antecedents consistently claim that fi[f]riendship between tw o persons was possible onl y to the extent which 111 the inner war had been resolved. Only those wh o had become friends of themselves–could truly be friends to others. The regimes of civic a nd personal friendship, hence, depended for their existence and quality on the psychic regimes of the selffl (fiVirtuefl 134). Hyatte and Shannon likewise observe how self-love in antiquity and De amicitia is seen, first and foremost, as a precondition of friendship. Hyatte note s that fithe ancients considered [self-love] a pr erequisite to amicitiafl while Laurie Shannon, more specifically, observes how in De amicitia fi[t]he feeling of self-love is not [perceived as] friendship, but must actively be transferred [and] reconfigured toward anotherfl (54; 41). By now, it should be fairly clear that Foucault ™s 1982 lectures illumina te how the care of the self is portrayed in Tudor friendship materi als as primarily a ‚psychic regime™ in the service of the self and others. As a ‚for m of life,™ Foucault™s stress on the care of the self as a process that must be pursued fithroughout one™s lifefl highlights an aspect of De amicitia mostly overlooked by contemporary early modern cultural studies on friendship: ethical self-love and friendship must be continually cultivated along with the dialectal tension between selfishness and selflessness (494). 110 As Walter Nicorgski observes, in re futing fithe Perfect Wiseman of the Stoic tradition,fl Cicero argues that fifriendships cannot be unions in perfect goodness but only at best unions of good people pointed to and striving for even greater goodnessfl (97). 111 Both Foucault and Tudor friendship mate rials likewise emphasize the abil ity to reflect on and temper supposedly ‚counterproductive™ emotions. While Foucault locates this in an emphasis in 110 Cicero™s claim of continual regeneration of self-love and friendship echoes a platonic idea found in the Symposium, 207 d-e: fihe is continually becoming a new person–not only in his body but in his soul.fl 111 See, for instance, Cicero™s definition of ‚goodness™ in Tiptoft sig. A6v. 112 antiquity on how one must learn finot to let ourse lves be carried away by emotions,fl and Cicero, in his stress on the cautious use of apathy in ethical self-love and friendship, the late-Tudor friendship pamphlets, such as Breme™s, highlight the import of reflecting on one™s passions: fifor commonly greate hurte doeth a man procure to hi mselfe in following his owne will, without resting vpon the rocke of good consideration a nd reasonfl (494-5; sig. C5v). According to Foucault and Tudor friendship materials, the ultimate end of caring for the se lf is an ability to care for others. The relationship between caring fo r the self and others is likewise perceived as dependent on emotional awareness and discipline, or as Churchyard cl aims in his friendship pamphlet, as previously cited, a reminder that fiman is not made for himself, created to be king of earthly delights, and placed amid st the pleasures of the world.fl 112 Part and parcel of learning to care for the self and fashi on oneself a ‚good man™ in friends hip is the cessation of mental anguish, or, as Foucault discusses in the second h our of a lecture dated February 3, fiataraxy (the absence of inner turmoil, the self-control whic h ensures that nothing disturbs one)fl (184). Indeed, Tudor materials, such as Churchyard™s, stress how fifriends hippe is a certain felicitie of the minde,fl or a fiquietness of mi nd,fl as the anonymous 1596 pamphlet, Triall of true friendship , eloquently states (sig. C2r). As a ‚psychic regime™ of the self,™ Tudor friendship materials and Foucault underscore how caring for the self, including the cessation of inward anguish, centers on intern al discipline. As Schoenfeldt contends, the early modern era of ten envisioned fithe self as an edifice needing not only meticulous care in construction but also continual vigilance in maintenancefl (74). The 112 The Triall of true friendship echoes this sentiment, albeit somewhat cynically: fiman is not borne onely for himself, but also for his neighborsfl (sig. C1r). 113 following section examines how caring for the se lf in friendship manifests in Shakespeare™s Two Gentlemen. Of great import to this discussion is how the comedy stages the inward struggle of caring for the self through an emphasis on emoti onal awareness. The play likewise illuminates how caring for the self is a continual struggl e similar to that discussed by Cicero, Tudor friendship pamphlets, Foucault, and Schoenfeldt where one must continually moderate their emotions lest they become too selfish or selfless. Indeed, as a text occupied with learning how to fashion the self to be a gentleman, as the opening scene and later conversation between Antonio and Pantio in 1.3 demonstrate, Shakespeare™s comedy also concentrates on learni ng how to fashion and care for oneself as a friend. This latter emphasis manifests in Two Gentlemen primarily through the inward struggle of Proteus, whose lack of emotional control results in his belief for most of the play that fiI to myself am dearer than a friend,fl although it ma y also be extended to the overemotional Lance (2.6.20-23). Indeed, although on the surface Lance™s fiordinaryfl relationship with Crab is admirable for the formers self-abnegation, bene volence, and fidelity Œ characteristics mostly missing from the supposedly fifaultlessfl friend ship of Valentine and Proteus Œ the play nonetheless presents Lance as committing the grie vous error of excessive concern and care for the other. In both instances, La nce and Proteus wrestle with th e practice of forming the self. Likewise, Proteus™s claim, stated somewhat ironi cally, that friendship fihath better deeds than words to grace it,fl echoes the common belief that the fruits of internal, emotional discipline lends itself, firstly, to fashioning the self a ‚ good man,™ and secondly, to the benefit of others (2.2.18). The play typically stages the import of th ese facets by demonstrating how a failure of 114 self-reflection or the rejection of counsel gives way to selfis hness or selflessness, and it simultaneously draws on these moments to undersco re the claim that duties to others underscore the care of the self. The play thus articulates a practice of early modern subjectivity wherein a sense of self is believed, one the one hand, to em erge from perceived duties to others, and on the other hand, from a duty to the self. The play stages this split focus betw een the self and other in friendship as a dialectical tension that frequen tly produces an inward struggle between pursuing one™s passions and pursuing the needs of others. The Two Gentlemen of Verona and The Problem of the Care of the Self I am not the first to examine what is possi bly Shakespeare™s most maligned play in the context of friendship; however, following Bray™s contention that fit he effect of a shaping concern with sexuality is precisely to obscure th[e] wi der [cultural and historical] framefl in which friendship discourse is situated, my examination pr ioritizes the care of the self over concerns of homosocial bonds or sexuality. Indeed, criticism has keenly considered how homosocial concerns, such as the tension arising from he terosexual desire, along with Tudor friendship discourse, informs Shakespeare™s comedy. Ralph M. Sargent, in an essay about the influence of Elyot™s fiwonderfull historye of Titus and Gisyppusfl on Two Gentlemen, for instance, identifies fimasculine friendshipfl as the structuring theme fiinvolving an ideal which rivals the demands of romantic lovefl (34). Jeffrey Masten, in his criti que of an fiauthorial-developmental modelfl that denigrates attaching critical import to Shakespeare™s early works such as Two Gentlemen, likewise observes how the fivocabulary of Rena issance friendshipfl pervades the play ( Two Gentlemen 277). In his work on early modern collaborati on, Masten also sees the play situating fithe utility of Petrarchan poetics within a network of homosociality,fl a sentiment echoed by 115 René Girard, who argues that Silv ia functions as an object that mediates a homosocial desire between Proteus and Valentine ( Textual Intercourse 45). 113 I likewise draw on previous criticism in my examination of how the play emphasizes the import of caring for the self through Valentin e and Proteus as well as Lance and his ficruel- hearted cur,fl Crab (2.3.9). To approach the theme of caring for the self in Two Gentlemen from the perspective of these marginal characters keeps with scholarship on the play which typically reads Lance and Crab as a parallel of the two gentlemen, Valentine and Proteus. As William C. Carroll observes in his preface to the third Arde n edition, fithe Lance-Crab episodes are so expertly crafted to reflect, pa rody or subvert the values and pr etensions of the major characters and their actions, right down to the verbal echo of individual words in different scenes (e.g.‚tide™ at 2.2.14 and ‚tied™ at 2.3.35-48)fl (127). Robert Weimann notes that Lance provides a vital meditation on friendship and desire, and Shakes peare employs the clown and his dog fito define and to control, though not necessarily to belittle , the main theme of love and friendshipfl (40). Erica Fudge likewise argues that the play draws a strong parallel between Lance and Proteus in order to highlight the fifailur efl of friendship that results fro m fiemotional confusionfl in both cases (201). I do not mean to suggest, however, that scholarship on th e play all but ignores Lance and Crab outside of their parallel to other characters, as comments by Carroll and Weimann, along with recent essays testify to the contra ry Œ though, it should be noted, the lion™s share focus on Crab. These instances, however, te nd to privilege dramatur gy (Beadle, Bliss, and Brooks), formal analysis (Dobson), or larger cu ltural and historical phenomena, such as the 113 See Girard, fiLove Delights in Praises: A Reading of The Two Gentlemen of Verona,fl Philosophy and Literature 13.2 (1989), 231-47. 116 status of the animal (Boehrer and Peachman) over critical discussion of the duo™s relation to friendship discourse. 114 Given its minor status in the Shakespeare cor pus, and, as Ann Barton not es in her spirited defense, the fiinevitable distinct ion of being the least loved and least regarded of Shakespeare™s comedies,fl a succinct synopsis proves necessa ry (177). Following the synopsis, I discuss how Two Gentlemen broaches what Foucault terms the fiprobl em of care for the se lf / [and] care for othersfl (197). Perceived in antiquity as the product of fierratic concern and care for the other,fl and portrayed in Tudor friendship materials as predicated on the lack of emotional awareness and discipline, Two Gentlemen stages the fiproblem of care for the self [and] care for othersfl as rooted in excessive passion as well as disproportionate selfishness or selflessness. I also demonstrate how the play suggests that delibera ting on one™s emotions a nd, to reiterate Cicero, gaining fisoverainte of suche lustesfl that encour age socially ‚unproductive™ behavior, such as the fipleasures, desires, sorrows, fears, greed, [and] stupidityfl discussed by Foucault in his lectures, is the surest way to minimize fierratic concern.fl Finally, I end with a brief examination of how Two Gentlemen illustrates that taking care of the self properly, most notably in terms of curbing inward passion and anguish, allows one to take care of others. This brief discussion proves 114 See Richard Beadle, fiCrab™s Pedigree,fl in Michael Cordner™s et al English Comedy, (Cambridge, 1994), 12-35. Beadle™s examination of the theatrical history of the crying dog and improvisational comedy in medieval theater is a fascinating read. Also see, Matthew Bliss, fiProperty or performer? Animals on the Elizabethan Stage,fl Theater Studies 39 (1994), 45-59; Harold F. Brooks, fiTwo Clowns in a Comedy (to say nothing of the Dog): Speed, Launce (and Crab) in The Two Gentlemen of Verona.fl Essays and Studies 16 (1963), 91-100. Michael Dobson, fiA Dog at all Things: The Transformation of the Onstage Canine,fl Performance Research 5 (2000), 116-24; Bruce Boehrer, Shakespeare Among the Animals, (Palgrave, 2002), 138-68; John Peachman, fiWhy a Dog? A Late Date for the Two Gentlemen of Verona,fl Notes and Queries 54 (2007), 265-72. 117 helpful for considering how the comedy stages Hutter and Foucault™s assertion that ‚psychic regimes™ of the self are teth ered to both personal and civic relationships, a concern, as I demonstrated in the previous section, which is at the center of Tudor friendship materials. Ultimately, the staging of reflection and emoti onal awareness illuminates how friendship is frequently perceived as dialecti cal and wrought with tension, mo st notably the tension between selflessness and selfishness. The Two Gentlemen of Verona tells the story of the titular gentlemen, Valentine and Proteus, and their struggle to reconcile frie ndship with personal ambition and love. The play opens with Valentine set to depart Verona a nd travel the world to acquire a gentleman™s education while his friend Proteus remains behind to be near Julia, for whom he pines fiheart sick with thoughtfl (1.1.69). At his fath er™s behest, and due partially to Proteus™s dishonesty about a letter from Julia, he too travels to Milan in orde r to fibe [made] a perfect man /–tried and tutored in the worldfl (1.3.20-1). On his departure, Proteus pledges fitrue constancyfl to Julia, but this proves short-lived as he falls in love on arrival in Milan with Silvia, the Duke™s daughter and Valentine™s beloved (2.2.8). In the pursuit of S ilvia, Proteus fislander[s] Valentine / With falsehood, cowardice, and poor descent,fl and info rms the Duke of Vale ntine™s intention to abscond with his daughter, who subsequently banish es Valentine (3.2.31-2). Silvia ventures into the forest in search of the exiled Valentine and is pursued by Proteus and the disguised Julia who is employed by Proteus as a male page, replacing the recently dismissed Lance. Silvia confronts Proteus about his infidelity and accuses him of being fia counterfeit to thy true friendfl Valentine (5.4.53). In a fit of rage, he attempts to fiwoo [Silvia] lik e a soldier, at arm™s end,fl but is prevented by Valentine, who chastises Proteus fo r his trespass against the law of friendship, and not, to the dismay of modern audiences, the a ttempted rape of Silvia (5.4.57-8). Proteus, 118 overcome with fishame and guilt,fl apologizes (5.4.74) . Satisfied with his contrition, Valentine fionce again–receivesfl Proteus as a friend, and figive[s]fl Silvia to Proteus for marriage as an offer of goodwill and demonstration that his filove may appear plain and free.fl At this, Julia swoons, and thus reveals herself. Proteus, move d by her devotion and the epiphany that fiwere man / But constant, he were perfect,fl decides to marry Julia while his friend marries Silvia. The play ends with a celebration of the impending marriages, which, according to Valentine, shall be fiOne feast, one house, one mutual happinessfl (5.4.171). Throughout Two Gentlemen, servitude to emotion is depict ed as the primary factor that unhinges friendship, generates inward anguish, and encourages disproportionate concern for the self or other. Utilizing the trope of male frie ndship disrupted by a love interest, the play echoes the contention of Foucault and Tudor friendship materials that excessive passion produces fiirrational impulsesfl and all but ensures that fia gate is set open to all lustes and vice.fl 115 The friendship of Valentine and Proteus is the best place to turn to see how Two Gentlemen stages these concerns. Indeed, Proteus™s passion for Silvia renders him fireasonle ssfl and encourages his fitransgressionfl against Valentine, while love in general produces an inward struggle and fi[w]ar with good counselfl that Shakes peare will develop in later scenes through soliloquy and monologue (2.4.196-7; 1.1.68). 116 Valentine likewise displays the fifolliesfl of a stupefied lover 115 See Mills, 103, for a brief discussion of how Tudor literature exploits the clash between male friendship and a medieval doctrine of love. Also see Catharine Belsey, fiDisrupting Sexual Differencefl in John Drakakis™s Alternative Shakespeares (Routledge, 2002), 193. Also see Laura Gowing, fiThe Politics of Women™s Frie ndship in Early Modern England,fl in Gowing et al Love, Friendship and Faith in Europe, 1300-1800 (Palgrave, 2005), 132. 116 See Sargent and Mills for discussions of the potential conflict between the emotions required in cross-sexual love and those required in friendship. Elyot™s fiwonderfull historye of 119 due to his passion for Silvia which, similar to Pr oteus, forces him to forget his friend (2.1.35). Excessive passion also cultivates inner anguish in Valentine and, drawin g on stereotypical terms of the forlorn lover, fibitter fasts [and] penite ntial groansfl (2.4.129). Unlike in his treatment of Proteus, however, Shakespeare does not prov ide Valentine with su bstantial monologues or soliloquies; aside from a soliloquy toward the end of the play, Valentine™ s inward struggle is mediated to the audience/reader through others such as his servant, Speed, or the Duke. The sway that excessive passion is seen to hold over male friendship and one™s inward self emerges as a topic of conversation in the opening lines of the play. Valentine, who rebukes Proteus for his decision to remain behind while his friend travels abroad, notes: Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits. Weren™t not affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honoured love, I rather would entreat thy company To see the wonders of the world abroad Then, living dully sluggardized at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. (1.1.2-8) While these lines establish many of the themes pursued across the comedy, for instance, male friendship disrupted by a female love interest, the import of a gentleman™s education, friendly counsel, and civic engagement, the problems ge nerated by immoderate passion looms largest. According to Valentine, excessive fiaffectionfl or passion for Julia fichai nsfl Proteus to Verona and produces a dull, fihomely witfl that disrupts their friendship and hinders his friend™s worldly Titus and Gisyppus,fl in The boke named the governour, is perhaps the most famous example during the era. It is also, as noted above, influential to Shakespeare™s comedy. 120 engagement. In a similar manner, Valentine claims that servitude to fiaffectionfl cultivates a fisluggardizedfl life of fiidlenessfl at odds with the fiworldfl of ac tion that forms the gentleman™s education. 117 The detriment of such erratic passion is characterized as fibootsfl or a fiyokefl that impede one™s personal growth (1.3.14-16). This se ntiment is likewise echoed by Pantino, steward to Proteus™s father, Antonio, who implores his master fiTo let him [i.e., Proteus] spend his time no more at home, / Which would be great impeach ment to his age / In having known no travel in his youthfl (1.3.14-16). Regardless of Valentin e™s friendly counsel and the Tudor proverb, attributed to Aristotle, that fil ong voyages depart friendship,fl Prot eus™s desire encourages him to remain fiA home-keeping youthfl rather than a young gentleman who travel s fito see the wonders of the world abroadfl (Wilkinson sig. N5r). 118 Just as the opening words of Valentine broadly establish the detriment posed by excessive passion, Proteus™s soliloquy at the conclu sion of this conversati on explicitly articulates how desire unsettles friendship and destabilizes the care of the self and others: He after honor hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends to dignify them more; I leave myself, my friends and all, for love. Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphosed me: 117 Carroll contends that fithis opening sp eech reflects a common theme for young men in the early modern period: to form themselves by encountering the world of action, rather than becoming shapeless through idleness (which was particularly to be avoided.fl See, 137, f.n. 5. 118 See Wilkinson sig. N5r. As Wilkinson clar ifies, this proverb demonstrates that friendship fishoulde not stande if they [friends] were farre of[f], [as] this maye bee a departing and going out of the mindful frendship.fl 121 Made me neglect my studies, lose my time, War with good counsel, set the world at nought; Made with musing weak, heart sick with thought. (1.1.63-69) For the first time in the play, the audience/reader is presented with a va riation of forgetting oneself that stems from ‚erratic care and co ncern for the other.™ ‚D isturbed by passion and affection™ that Foucault sees as anathema to the general rule of caring for the self, Proteus forgets not only himself, his friends and family, but also his duty as a gentleman, owing to his passion for Julia. Indeed, he claims that desire for Juli a moves him to seek filovefl narrowly for himself rather than the fihonorfl after which Valentine fi hunt[s]fl in order to fidignifyfl his family and fifriends.fl 119 Moreover, filovefl causes Proteus to fileave my self, my friends and allfl as well as shun the fistudiesfl that are sure ly part of what Pantino sees as fiworthy of his youth and nobleness of birthfl and the foundation of his fiprefermentfl as a young gentleman (1.3.33; 1.3.7). Proteus likewise admits to practicing a fo rm of self-love motiv ated by passion and selfishness rather than virtue and goodness dire cted toward his betterm ent; he stays behind not out of duty, but, as mentioned in his soliloquy, becau se of filovefl for Julia. He likewise shuns the duties and responsibilities of a friend and young gentleman, and thus, spurns Epictetus™s contention, iterated numerous times in Tudor friendship materials such as Churchyard™s, that fiaffections [are]–a certain rule to measure duties by.fl Indeed, passion influences Proteus to perform duties contrary to his position as a young gentleman in the making: he fineglect[s] [his] 119 As numerous scholars observe, in early m odern culture, ‚friend™ can also mean family. See, for instance, Lawrence Stone, The Family, Sex and Marriage in England, 1500-1800 (Harper & Row, 1979), 97. Also see, Bray, chapter three in The Friend; Gowing, 16. 122 studies [wastes or] lose[s] [his ] time, / War[s] with good couns el, [and] set[s] the world at nought,fl or neglects his business. As I discuss shortly, the play also repres ents fiWar with good counselfl as an inward affair. One of the more famous soliloquies of Two Gentlemen, where Proteus deliberates on whether he should abdicate his duty as a friend to Valentine, a love r to Julia, and to himself as a young would-be gentleman, aptly demonstrates how excessive passion generates inward anguish. Moreover, the soliloquy illuminates the ficounsel of prudence,fl or reflecting on personal shortcomings and imperfections, that Foucault sees as a fundamental aspect of self-knowledge in caring for the self and Tudor friendship discourse as endemic to tempering unruly passion. First, however, it is important to briefly examine how th e play employs other characters, most notably Valentine and Lance, in its representation of the pitfalls of erratic concern and care. While Proteus™s fiinner struggle and fall form the heart of the dramatic conflict,fl as Sargent observes, to a limited degree, Shakespe are locates the same conflict generated by unruly emotions in other characters. Valentine, for in stance, becomes insensible due to his passion for Silvia and displays the fifolliesfl of a stupefied lover who inwardly struggles to control his emotions (2.1.35). Not only does Valentine exhi bit signs of the inner anguish felt by the heartsick lover who tends, for instance, fito walk alone,–to sigh,–to weep,–to speak pulling,fl but he also recognizes the power that unruly emotions hold over his thoughts. fiLove™s a mighty lord,fl Valentine informs his friend, and it hol ds such powerful sway over him that fiNow, no discourse, except it be of love; / Now can I break my fast, dine, sup, an d sleep / Upon the very naked name of lovefl (2.4.139-40). In a poem to Silvia, Valentine compares the command of these emotions and thoughts to a perverse subj ection where servants ar e granted more freedom than their master: fiI, their king, that thither them importune, / Do curse the grace that with such 123 grace hath blessed them, / Because myself do want my servants™ fortunefl (2.1.19-23; 3.1.145- 47). Valentine™s disruptive passi on, in a manner similar to Proteus™ s, contribute to his fickleness toward his friend and demonstrates Foucault™s claim that forgetting oneself, due to being ‚disturbed by passion and affection,™ can likewise extend to forgetting others Œ indeed, he tells Proteus, fiForgive me that I do not dream on thee, / Because thou seest me dote upon my lovefl (2.4.170-71). It would be remiss however to assume that the problem of the care of the self is limited in Two Gentlemen to the tension between male friendship a nd a female love interest. Indeed, the Lance-Crab subplot offers a nuanced depiction of how erratic concern generates anguish and encourages disproportionate care for the other. The subplot, operating primarily as comic-relief, and possibly composed as an fiafterthought, imperf ectly welded into a plot which originally employed only one comic servant,fl as Barton and other scholars contend, briefly relays the exploits of Proteus™s page, La nce, and his dog, Crab (177). 120 Focusing mostly on Lance™s emotional departure for Milan, discussion with Speed about his anonymous love, and chaotic dinner scene with Silvia and her retinue, the Lanc e-Crab subplot brings attention to the problem of the care of the self from a perspective that de viates from that offered by the titular gentlemen; if Valentine and Proteus serve as exempla of disproportionate selfishness due to disruptive emotions then Lance functions as the play ™s exemplum of excessive selflessness. From his earliest appearance, when he reflec ts with the audience/reader on his emotional response to departing Verona for Milan, Shakespear e presents Lance as predisposed to excessive 120 See, Beadle 13-14; Carroll, 125-7; L eech, xlviii; and MacFaul, 99. Numerous scholars contest the theory that the Lance-Crab subplot is an fiafterthought.fl See, for instance, Brooks, 99, and Masten, Two Gentlemen, 275. 124 passion and irrational impulses. His great fiweeping,fl which Lanc e characterizes as a fifaultfl common to his family Œ indeed, fiall the kind of Lance™s have this ve ry faultfl Œ contributes to the breakdown of Lance™s social relationships, or at least their representation on stage (2.3.1-2). Similar to Proteus and Valentine, Lance™s anguis h results in a literal and comical forgetting of the self as he struggles, in the midst of what Fudge terms his fiemotional confusion,fl to remember which objects and species st and-in for his family and himself: Nay, I™ll show you the manner of it. This shoe is my father. No, this left shoe is my father. No, no, this left shoe is my mo ther. Nay, that cannot be so neither. Yes, it is so, it is so: it hath the worse sole–.Now , sir, this staff is my sister; for, look you, she is as white as a lily and as sma ll as a wand. This hat is Nan, our maid. I am the dog. No, the dog is himself, and I am the dog. O, the dog is me, and I am myself. (2.3.13-22) In an attempt to remember his family, at l east for the convenience of reenacting his emotional departure for the audience, Lanc e™s disruptive emotions foster, as Masten notes, fia complicated mixing, and mixing up, of kinds and species (mother, father, sister, cat, Jew, stone, shoe, hat, maid, man, dog)fl ( Two Gentlemen 276). In addition to Lance™s lament on leaving home, his incessant tears th roughout most of the play highlight a te ndency to be overemotiona l. Not only does Lance filay the dust with [his] tearsfl while Crab remains stoic and fiall this wh ile sheds not a tear nor speaks a word,fl but his later comment to Pantino further limns an inabilit y to curb his emotions: fiWhy, man, if the river were dry, I am able to fill it with my tears; if the wind were down, I could driv e the boats with my sighs (2.3.29-30; 2.3.49-51). 125 Crab™s stoic indifference, embodied by Lance™ s infamous complaint that he fiis a stone, a very pebblestone, and has no more pity in him than a dog,fl ruptures Lance™s benevolence and fidelity due to the absence of reciprocity (2.3.9- 10). It likewise depicts Lance as a fool, both literally and figuratively, for offering his humility and charity in a later scene despite that, as master, his fiservant [has just]–play[ed] the cu r with himfl (4.4.1). A lthough Lance displays the most compelling example in Two Gentlemen of the ‚good man™ who virtuously practices fidelity, benevolence, and selflessness in friendship Œ co re tenets Cicero and Tudor exempla see as endemic to ‚faultless™ friendship Œ his relationship with Crab is also one of the more destructive, since Lance forgets himself and hi s duty as the son venturing out into the world, as servant to Proteus, as well as lover to the unnamed milkmaid. 121 As a result of practicing excessive selflessness when he willingly suffers punishment on behalf of Crab no less than three times, Lance forgets to take care of himself, and in doing so, cancels any hope, security, or future with Crab. 122 This is compounded by the fact that Crab di splays no empathy or interest in Lance, or, as Fudge contends, fiinterest in the world around himfl (192). In the chapte r conclusion, I return briefly to how issues of hope are entwined with th e fiproblem of the care of the self and the care of othersfl in Two Gentlemen. For now, however, I turn my atte ntion to the comedy™s depiction of self-knowledge and self-love as part and parcel of caring for the self. Although Two Gentlemen devotes most of the dramatic action to the conflict engendered 121 Elyot™s Titus and Gisippus as well as Edwards™ Damon and Pythias are the most famous Tudor exempla of the selfless friend will ing to be punished in order to spare the other pain. 122 See 4.4.29-31. Also see Cesar Barber, Shakespeare™s Festive Comedy (Princeton, 2012), 14. 126 by excessive passion, the play likewise suggests th at deliberating on one™s emotions and practicing what Foucault terms a ficounsel of pr udencefl is perhaps the best way to minimize fierratic concernfl for the self or other. The comedy largely stages the import of emotional awareness in the negative, that is, through mome nts where reflecting on em otions are altogether absent or severely limited. On the one hand, th en, the play stages the import of emotional awareness by demonstrating how limited ‚counsel ™ or reflection cultivates selflessness or selfishness. For instance, both Va lentine and Lance™s inward str uggles are kept at arm™s length from the audience/reader; we neve r gain direct access to their thoughts or inward counsel and are only privy to what they willingly narrate. On the other hand, this presentation is in contrast to Proteus, who Shakespeare positions as the central figure of the text through numerous soliloquies and monologues devoted to his inward struggle. Although Proteus fails remarkably at tempering his passion for most of the play, it is nonethele ss important to recognize how he consistently strives to practice what Foucault terms the ficura tive and therapeutic functionfl of caring for the self. For instance, unlike La nce and Valentine, Proteus doe s reflect on his emotions and considers how they might impact ot hers if he is unable to gain fisoverainte of suche lustes,fl to quote Cicero. His ability for reflection, however elem entary it appears for most of the play, also lends itself to his eventual ‚redemption,™ however troubled that word may appear to moderns in the context of the play™s ending. Two Gentlemen readily underscores the import of re flection and emotional awareness in friendship through numerous soliloquies, monologue s, and duologues. On a general level, Shakespeare often links these speeches to instance s where the self deliberates internally, with the audience, or another character, on prevailing te rms of friendship. For instance, in his earliest monologue, Lance deliberates with the audience on si militude in friendship and its relation to the 127 self: fiI am the dog. No, the dog is himself, and I am the dog. O, the dog is me, and I am myselffl (2.3.21-2). Regardless of his limite d reflection, Lance™s stymied attempt at separating himself from Crab Œ illustrated through the mangled fiI am the dog. No, the dog is himselfflŒ foreshadows a tendency to abdicate his own desires in favor of his companion™s. As this monologue and other instances, such as the dinner sc ene monologue in Act 4 scene 4, de monstrate, Lance™s penchant for excessive affection arise from his undisciplin ed emotion Œ indeed, he begins this soliloquy by noting how fiall the kind of Lances have this very faultfl of being overemotional and throughout the play his frequent tears readily attest to the veracity of his observation (2.3.1-2). Characters also use interior speech, along wi th limited conversations with others, to reflect on how their emotions are tethered to friendship practices and, in numerous instances, how their passions impact others. For example, Proteus™s soliloquy on desire considers how his infatuation with Silvia affects his friend, Valentine, beloved, Julia, and himself: To leave my Julia shall I be foresworn; To love fair Silvia shall I be forsworn; To wrong my friend, I shall be much forsworn–. If I keep them, I needs must lose myself. If I lose them, thus find I by their loss, For Valentine, myself, for Julia, Silvia. I to myself am dearer than a friend. (2.6.1-3 & 20-3) Proteus begins his soliloquy by refl ecting on the repercussions of forgetting his duty as a lover, friend, and young gentleman. Indeed, he notes that if he chooses infidelity to Julia and Valentine, he will violate his oath as a lover and friend and be fiforesworn,fl or as Carroll notes, figuilty of perjuryfl (197 f.n. 3). However, although he demonstrates an awareness of the potential 128 repercussions his desire may have on others, as his ability to entertain opposi ng ideas such as fiIf I keep them,– / If I lose themfl illustrate, a surfeit of passion nonetheless motivates his contemplation and eventual actual ization of selfishness. Similar to Lance, Proteus also observes, how excessive passion governs his ac tions: fithat power [i.e., love] wh ich gave me first my oath / Provokes me to this threefold perjuryfl (2.6.3-4). The prominence of the first person pronoun in his soliloquy, coupled with the conclusion that fiI to myself am dearer than a friend,fl foreshadows his later machinations against Valentin e and likewise illuminates the failure of self- knowledge in this instance to strengthen ethical self-love; Proteus practices self-love not to better himself as a ‚good man,™ but in order to selfishly pursue his desires. Proteus™s conclusion fiI to myse lf am dearer than a friend,fl is indicative of more than just selfishness; it also sugge sts the problematic rela tion between a self and a friend. His declaration, in addition to illuminating the dialectical tensio n between self and other, demonstrates a self- consciousness about his status as a subject or, to borrow a phrase from Donald Hall, consideration of fithe question of how and from wh ere identity arises [and] to what extent it is understandablefl (3). In this instance, Proteus™s recognition that identity arises from his status as a desiring subject also underscores ho w the self is tethered to, or as he envisions it, compromised by, his friendship with Valentine. fiIf I keep th em [Valentine and Silvia], I needs must lose myself,fl further limns the conundrum arising from duty to the friend and to the self. This duty to the self, however, is presented as requiring a d ear payment; the detachment or separation from his friend. Indeed, Proteus™s claim that he can on ly fifindfl himself through the loss of his friend is eloquently stated as fiI cannot now prove consta nt to myself / Without some treachery used to Valentinefl (2.6.31-32). In choosing to fiprove cons tant to [him]selffl rather than his friend, Proteus demonstrates how the problem of the care of the self is deeply rooted in the problem of 129 one™s connection and distinction from the frie nd. Indeed, this conundrum, the tension between understanding and forming the self as both an individual and a fr iend, or how one™s subjectivity is frequently perceived as compromised by friendship, drives the narrative of Two Gentlemen . Proteus™s ability to recognize his selfishness, coupled with an earlier reflection on how he will strive to be a ‚good man™ and, fiIf I can ch eck my erring love, I will,fl depicts an inward struggle to improve through self-knowledge (2.4.210) . However weak his effort for betterment may be across the play Œ and it is considerably feeble Œ Two Gentlemen nonetheless suggests that his redemption in the dénouement, when Proteus becomes cognizant of his selfishness after Valentine™s rebuke, is made possi ble by his tendency for self-r eflection. Indeed, immediately following his attempted rape of Silvia, and Valentine™s clai m that fiThe private wound is deepest,fl Proteus confesses to Valentine about forgetting his duty as a friend (5.4.71): My shame and guilt confounds me. Forgive me, Valentine; if hearty sorrow Be sufficient ransom for offence, I tender™t here. I do as truly suffer As e™er I did commit. (5.4.73-77) While Proteus claims to be engulfed or ficonfo und[ed]fl by fishame and guilt,fl he contends to inwardly experience a fihearty sorrow.fl He likew ise claims that the anguish generated by his friend™s rebuke is just as bad, if not worse, than the actual attempted rape Œ fiI do as truly suffer / As e™er I did commit.fl Proteus™ s contrition, however suspect it may be that he employs the figentle spirit of moving wordsfl only to appease Va lentine, nonetheless calls attention to how the care of the self is tethered in th e play to the care of ot hers (5.4.55). I thus br iefly turn to how the dénouement of the comedy demonstrates how taking care of the self, explicitly in terms of 130 curbing inward passion and anguish, allows one to take care of others. The final scene of Two Gentlemen, long seen as one of the mo re problematic endings in the Shakespeare corpus, if not the most troubl esome, focuses on how Valentine™s ire with Proteus swiftly turns to forgiveness once his frie nd apologizes for rape. This moment takes on an even more problematic tone when Valentine™s co mpassion is followed by ‚giving™ Silvia to his friend. Immediately following Proteus™s reflection on figuilt and shame,fl noted above, which results in his contrition, Valentine remarks: Then I am paid, And once again I do receive thee honest. Who by repentance is not satisfied Is nor of heaven nor earth. For these are pleased; By penitence th™ Eternal™s wrath™s appeased. And that my love may appear plain and free, All that was mine in Silvia I give thee. (5.4.77-83) As noted by Michael Dobson, what may seem like a perversion to the m odern audience/reader would be received by Shakespeare™s contemporar ies as fithe romantic celebration of male friendship over love.fl Camille Wells Slight likew ise contends that, to a Tudor audience/reader, fiValentine™s offer to give up Silvia to Prot eus is not boorish but generous, the magnanimous sacrifice of friendshipfl (116). Th is estimation by Dobson and Sli ght is evident in Valentine™s immediate reaction to Proteus; rather than re proach his friend for intending to commit such a heinous act, he instead accuses him of being a fifriend of an ill fashion! / Thou common friend, that™s without faith or lovefl (5.4.61-2). 131 Equally germane to the dénouement is how it demonstrates that caring for the self simultaneously means caring for others. It must be noted, however, that ‚others™ in early modern theories of friendship refers ex clusively to men Œ women were tr aditionally excluded as subjects capable of friendship, since, according to Montai gne, fithe ordinary sufficiency of women cannot answer this conference or communication [i.e., friendship]–nor seem their minds strong enough to endure the pulling of a knot so hard, so fast, and so durable.fl While ear ly modern literature pushes back against such essentialist claims of friendship and caring for the self Œ which I explore in my final chapter on the poetry of Aemili a Lanyer Œ this gesture is mostly absent from Two Gentlemen. Although the play presents the relations hip between Julia and her servant, Lucetta, as an approximation of friendship, it is a relationship rendered unstable by Julia, fiwayward [due to her]–foolish lovefl for Proteus (1.2.57). The contention of Foucault and Tudor friendshi p materials that properly taking care of the self is essential for the health of the comm unity, as I have demonstr ated throughout, hinges primarily on one™s ability to control unruly em otions and reconcile the tension between caring for the self and others. The ending of Two Gentlemen suggests that Proteus™s redemption is the result of his ability to be emo tionally aware and to reflect on how his emotions limn his duties to a wider community. Caring for the self thus reveal s how the affective and po litical dimensions of friendship, similar to the self an d other, are inextricably bound. I ndeed, as Hutter claims in his discussion of fiself-friendshipfl in both classica l thought and industrialized societies, achieving inward concord and resolving one™s emotiona l distress is percei ved in both fiPlatonic- Aristotelianfl and fiStoic-Epicureanfl models as firequire[ing] a ‚ political™ orderingfl ( Virtue 132; 134). Not only does this fi‚political™ orderingfl enta il orientating one™s emotions to a dominant mode of thought, such as, virtue or goodness, but it also requires one to achieve sovereignty or 132 mastery over their emotions. However, as Hutter and Thomas Heilke persuasively contend, such an fiorderingfl should not be construed as proof that friendship arises from politics; rather, it illuminates how fi[p]olitics does not ‚enable™ friendship–friendship begets politicsfl (225). Proteus™s remark on the fallibility of man™s mind and emotions, fiwere man / But constant, he were perfect,fl speaks to Hutter™s claim and li kewise echoes Elyot™s entry on fiSapiencefl in The bankette: A temperate and moderate pers onne, n[e]des must be constant, he that is constant, is quiete of minde, he that is quiete, hath n[o] vexacion, and consequently no greefe or disease: a nd all these thinges no perteine to a wise man wherfore it foloweth, no griefe or disease may be in a wise man. This aphorism, which Elyot attributes to fiTul lius,fl emphasizes how a fitemperatefl mindfulness cultivates a fiquiete of mindefl fr ee from anguish, fivexacion,fl and figreefe or disease.fl This is similar to the emphasis in Foucault and Tudor friendship materials on learning how to fashion oneself a ‚good man.™ Indeed, Foucault claims that mental anguish is radically diminished when one learns mindfulness of dispropo rtionate fipleasures, desires, sorrows, fears, greed, stupidity.fl Cicero echoes this through his contention that the ability for one to figete the soverainte of such lustesfl that encourage selfishness and unethi cal self-love proves to be the foundation of fashioning the self a ‚good man.™ As a result of Proteus gaining fisoverainte of such lustesfl that di sturbed his friendship with Valentine as well as development of a gentleman in the making, the play closes with the two friends making amends. Equally important , however, is the comm unal celebration that Valentine promises will result in the marriages of each friend to his beloved: fiour day of marriage shall be yours, / One feast, one house, one mutual happinessfl (5.4.170-1). 133 fiThe good hope that is to comefl If Lance™s selflessness for Crab form s one of the more moving moments in Two Gentlemen, as scholars often contend, it also presents one of the more pr oblematic instances when read against Tudor friendship discourse. Wh ile Ciceronian accounts of friendship put great stock in the absence of reciprocity, insofar as it renders self-abnegation all the more admirable, they likewise stress the need for reciprocity due to the hope that it fosters the continuation of friendship into the unfores een future. Indeed, in De amicitia Cicero argues th at reciprocity does matter because without it, friendship cannot exis t: fiwhere freendshippe hath in it manie and greate commoditees, yet this exce edeth al the rest, that she fo reco[m]fortes us, with the good hope that is to comefl (Harington si g. L1v). In locating the problem of the care of the self in the Lance-Crab subplot as well as th e friendship between Valentine and Proteus, the play can be read as an attempt to address the conundrum of balancing selfishness and selflessness and also maintaining hope of developi ng as a self and a friend. While this chapter demonstrated how Tudor friendship discourse perceives caring for the self as a series of inward actions, such as emo tional awareness tethered to what Foucault terms a ficounsel of prudence,fl one wonders how these di sparate materials simultaneously explore how the self convinces the other to take care of himself ( Hermeneutics 35). The obligation of the friend to admonish the other in order that he lear n to take care of himself proves a central claim in friendship discourse: friends must, to quote Pl utarch, fishew themselves–bolde to speake their minds and to finde fault, which it one of the be st and surest marks of true friendshipfl(84). However, a general concern of the potential of fiboldefl speech to do more harm than good emerges in discussions of frank speech between friends. Rogers notes how even figood intent–[may] cause infinite hurtesfl when one boldly speaks their mind to the friend: fiRashe 134 counsaile, although sometime it maye have good inte nt,–hath evill success and is the cause of infinite hurtes both private and publikefl (Rogers sig. N4r). John Heywood, in his 1556 allegorical poem The Spider and the Flie, echoes this concern through his contention that friends tend to be more dishonest with one another fo r fear of ficausing infinite hurtes.fl Indeed, according to Heywood: fiNo friende, with friende (in fri endship) will be plaine . /– / Love, to tell trewth, doth ofte for love refraine, /– / Loue, lockth in trewth, least trewth might friend{is} displeasefl (sig. A4r). As I demonstrate in the next chapter, ear ly modern friendship discourse frequently presents a novel way to minimize fiinfinite hurt esfl or fidisplease[ure] while simultaneously allowing the friend to fibold[ly]–speak their minde.fl ‚Tactful antagonism,™ that is, provoking the other to become self-consciou s and critical by deliberately a ngering them, proves one of the best ways to convince the other to take care of himself. Foucault ™s lectures on frank speech or parrhsia help illuminate how the care of the self in early modern friendship discourse is often perceived as reliant on the antagonism of othe rs. The fiethics of anger,fl a provocative idea Foucault raises but never elaborates in his 1983 Berkeley and 1984 Collège lectures on frank speech, proves helpful in this i nvestigation, as does the ‚Englishe d™ translation of Plutarch™s essay on flattery and friendship, as well as Shakespeare™s King Lear, a lengthy meditation, as I read it, on frank speech and ‚tactful antagonism™ ( 375). As a careful consideration of these texts indicate, questions of how to use frank speech in order to ethically anger the other are linked to period questions of how to cultivate and deploy one ™s moral conscience for the benefit of the self and commonwealth. As Thomas Lever notes, in a 1550 sermon, fifalse crafty flatterersfl hinder the development of self-knowledge, prove detrimental to the cultivation of one™s ethos and, more 135 generally, ficontrarye to that reverent zele and faithful love towards God, the king, and the co[m]men wealth:fl if ye use the servise, or hear the advise of false crafty flattere rs, ye shall therewith be so blinded that ye can neither perceive by your selves, nor beleve when as ye be plainely and faithfully tolde, that manye of your owne doinges, comming of mans freyltye, do tend muche unto the disp leasure of God, dishonour of the kinge, and discredit of your selves, being moste contrarye to that reverent zele and faithful loue towards God, the king, and the co[m]men wealth, which zeleand love god of hys goodnes hath grafted in your ha rtes, and the–praise of flatterers, laboreth to deface, pervert and destroyefl (sig. A6v). 136 Chapter Three: fiSpeak what we feel, not what we ought to sayfl: Frank Speech and Tactful Antagonism in King Lear Introduction: figive no credence to [an]otherfl Thomas Lever, in a sermon from 1550, decries how self-interest and flattery, with the aid of Satan, contribute to the di ssolution of communal cohesion a nd charity: filest that Satan banishing al faithful Christians, which should and wo ld provide to helpe one an other, do fil this realme ful of crafty flatterers, which can and will deceive, begile, and spoile one anotherfl (sig. A2v). In a similar vein, Moris on construes the flatter as one of the most fipernitiousefl or malevolent forces in the commonwealth due to the havoc it inflicts on both individuals and communities (sig. D3r). As Morison contends, fi[ a]mong the wilde beastes, there is none more pernitiouse then envie; among the tame, none soo hurtfull as flatteryfl (s ig. D3r). Hugh Latimer likewise identifies the fimalitious hartesfl of th e flatterer as perilous to the commonwealth; indeed, according to Latimer, there is fino greate r mischie[f]es in the commune wealthe then these flatterersfl (sig. N4r). Far from simply d ecrying the threat posed to the stability of the commonwealth, these texts frequently suggest an anodyne to flattery: self-knowledge. Morison, paraphrasing Seneca, claims the ab ility fito know what t hou artfl allows one to be receptive to and simultaneously skeptical of the counsel of others: fi[w]ithin thy selfe, behol d wel thy selfe, & to know what thou art, give no creden ce to otherfl (sig. T2 r). Lever explicates Morison™s advice of when to be receptive and skeptical by noting th e emotional reaction generated by the counsel of a friend versus the flatterer; the c ounsel of a true friend frequently angers the other and causes him to fibe greved because his sore is touchedfl (si g. C6r). Lever continues by juxtaposing anger with the fideceitefull kisses of the haterfl and flatterer: 137 But & if any man be greved because his sore is touched, let him remember the sayinge of the wise man: Meliora sunt uulnera di|l igentis, quam fraudulenta oscula odientis: the woundes of the lover be bette r then the deceit efull kisses of the hater. For the woundes whiche the frinde openeth, be to le[t] olde sores: and the disceitfull kisses of the enemies be to make ne we woundes. I speake plainelye to open the [w]ounde, [t]o roote oute and heale the disease–whiche wold be to the wounded and to every man, c[o]mfort. (sig. C6r) While the previous chapter showed how T udor friendship discourse perceives caring for the self as a series of inward actions and dialectical tensions , such as emotional awareness tethered to what Foucault terms a ficounsel of prudence,fl the current discussion demonstrates how these disparate materials also contend that th is self-consciousness e ngenders an ability to take care of others ( Hermeneutics 35). The imbrication of self a nd other, particularly as regards caring for the self in a manner that will fiproduce or induce behavior through which one will actually be able to take care of othersfl has already been tangentially introduced through the discussion of Foucault™s lectures on the car e of the self in th e previous chapter ( Hermeneutics 198). In a similar manner, the previous chapter gestured toward how ca nonical texts of Tudor friendship discourse, such as Cicero™s De amicitia and late-Tudor pamphlet s on friendship, echo this sentiment through the contention that one must first cultivate an ethical self-love in order to ethically love others Œ a sentiment translat ed by John Tiptoft in his 1484 edition of De amicitia as fia man [must] first make him self a good man a nd thenne seke another like him self.fl As the previous discussion of Shakespeare™s The Two Gentlemen of Verona demonstrated, the need to balance self-regard and self-abnegation in fr iendship underscores the dialectical tension encountered by one™s position as a self and a frie nd. The current chapter approaches this tension 138 from the perspective of frank speech and consider s how the friend employs it in order to stress that the other must take care of himself. Simila r to the dialectical tens ion discussed in chapter two, chapter three examines how friendship materi als stress that candid or ‚plaine™ speech and criticism simultaneously be tempered with rhetoric and tact so as to increase the probability that the other will take care of hims elf while also allowing for one to speak his conscience. While terms such as ‚candid™, ‚plaine™, and ‚frank™ s uggest a form of speech that is transparent and unmediated by culture, and ‚rhetoric ™ or ‚tact™ an instrumental us e of language employed mostly for selfish gain, representations of frank spee ch between friends in early modern culture frequently stress the need to judiciously craft a verbal articulation of one™s conscience or ethos that persuasively encourages the other to realize the folly or errors of his way. In order to adequately elaborate this claim, as well as demonstrate its import to the care of the self in early modern friendship discourse , I first discuss Foucault™s Berkeley and Collège lectures on frank speech. Toward the end of the 1982 lectures on caring for the self discussed in the previous chapter, Foucault gestures toward specific actions one should employ in the care of others. Through his examination of parrhsia in subsequent lectures at Berkeley in the fall of 1983 and the Collège de France in the spring of 1983 and 1984, he significantly expands on how one can help the other realize the need to work on his ethical being. As an act that teaches others how to properly care for themselves, parrhsia fiaims to transform the mode of being of its interlocutor in order that he learns to take care of himself correctlyfl ( Courage 348). As I show in the second and third sections, Foucault™s 1983-84 lectures on parrhsia illuminate how the care of the self in early modern friendship discourse is often perceived as re liant on the antagonism of others. Indeed, early modern friendship discours e frequently presents caring for the self as readily accomplished through the use of tactfu l antagonism, that is, provoking the other to 139 become self-conscious and critical by deliberat ely angering him. The second section examines a central text in early modern frie ndship discourse and discussions of parrhsia: Plutarch™s fiHow to Tell a Flatterer From a Frie nd,fl translated into English by Philemon Holland in 1603 as fiHow a man may discerne a flatterer from a friend.fl 123 Characterized by Troels Engberg-Pedersen as a fitechnical analysis of [parrhsia] or frank criticism–as it coheres with friendship and flattery,fl fiHow to Tell a Flatterer From a Friend,fl I argue, instructs one how to use tactful antagonism in order to admonish and convince the fr iend to take care of himself, or, as Plutarch contends, properly teaches how fione ought to hurt a friend only to help himfl (62; Babbitt 55D). 124 As I demonstrate below, tactful antagonism, like the tactful parrhsia discussed by Foucault and Plutarch, is often employed in an attempt to convince the other to care for the self. Likewise, such antagonism is portrayed as abiding by a discernible ethics. The third section examines parrhsia and the care of the self in Shakespeare™s tragedy King Lear . As a play concerned with frank speech, among other things, King Lear uses tactful antagonism in order to illuminate how caring for the self involves both an ethics of practice and a practice of developing an ethos. Indeed, the figures of Cordelia, Kent, and the F ool demonstrate that speaking frankly entails a knowledge of how to tactfully ch astise the other, while King Lear and Gloucester demonstrate 123 Robert C. Evans contends that Holland™s essay probably circulated in manuscript several years prior to 1603 (3-5). See fiFlattery in Shakespeare™s Othello : The Relevance of Plutarch and Sir Thomas Elyot.fl Comparative Drama 35.1 (2001): 1-41. 124 See Shannon, 191. According to Shannon, Plutarch™s treatise is fia practical, how-to manual [with] and emphasis on skills and techniqu es.fl Unless noted, modernized citations of fiHow to Tell a Flatterer from a Friendfl refer to Babbitt™s Loeb edition. For ease of cross-reference with other modern translations, I ci te the text according to section number and paragraph letter. 140 how the goal of this speech is to make the ot her aware of the need to care for himself. Parrhsia is thus a pivotal part of self- knowledge explored in earlier chapte rs, insofar as it lends itself to the formation of the moral and political subject. While chapter one located self-knowledge in the humanist emphasis on nosce teipsum, most notably, the be lief that it forms the basis of one™s realization that he has a mora l and political identi ty, the second chapter examined how this knowledge, through the care of the self, must be r ealized through continual practice. Chapter two likewise demonstrated how practice is tethered to one™s r ealization that moral and political identities are tethered to communal duties. The cu rrent chapter continues this narrative thread by showing how frank speech cements one™s moral a nd political identity (that is, knowledge and care of the self) through further development of the conscience, most notably by drawing attention to one™s ethos as well as attempting to foist this upon the other through an emphasis that he filearns to take ca re of himself correctly.fl Scholarship has not completely overlooked fr ank speech in early modern literature and culture, as demonstrated by studies devoted exclusively to the to pic, such as those of Diane Parkin-Speer and David Colclough, as well as examinations of parrhsia in more general contexts, such as Andrew McRae™s discussion of satire in early-Stuart culture or Martin Dzelzainis™s examination of gender in the poetry of Andrew Marvell. 125 Both Parkin-Speer and Colclough, for instance, examine a similar corpus of Tudor rhetorics and consider how the era perceives frank speech along with the corresponding political and social ramifications of this 125 See, McRae, Literature, Satire, and the Early Stuart State (Cambridge, 2004), 83- 152; Dzelzainis, fiTruth-telling and Gender in Andrew Marvell™s The Third Advice to a Painter fl in Jennifer Richards and Alison Thorne Rhetoric, Women and Politics in Early Modern England (Routledge, 2007), 111-128. 141 perception. Their examinati ons of Thomas Wilson™s The Arte of Rhetorique (1553), Fraunce Abraham's Arcadian Rhetorike (1588), Henry Peacham™s The Garden of Eloquence (1577), and George Puttenham™s Arte of English Poesie (1589), however, yield diffe rent results. Indeed, for Parkin-Speer, discussions of parrhsia, also referred to during the period as fifree speechfl or speech that is filicentiousfl or spoken with filiberty,fl ficandor,fl and fiboldness,fl frequently emphasize ethical and moral duties over rhetorical applications (66-67). 126 Accordingly, Parkin-Speer sees the frankness of parrhsia, particularly the belief in fifreedom of speech as duty and right,fl as greatly influencing the era™s political culture, as evinced by one of its early proponents, Sir Thomas More, who ficl aim[s] [it] as first right in Parliamentfl (72). In a similar vein, she claims that parrhsia becomes so enmeshed in early modern culture that it eventually ushers in the English Civil War Œ indeed, in Parkin-Speer™s histor ical narrative, fithe concept of the freedom of speech current in the Puritan Re volution originates in the sixteenth century parliaments, rhetorics, a nd theological worksfl (65). Colclough resists reading early modern parrhsia as fiuncover[ing] a teleology of the right of free speech in a recognizable form,fl a nd focuses instead on the social and political conundrums arising from representations of frank speech in early modern rhetorics (15). For Colclough, representing a form of speech filinked so easily to democratic or republican politicsfl poses a fipotential danger to rigid social stratificationfl of the er a Œ a sentiment echoed by Stella Achilleos in her examination of parrhsia and friendship in The Essays of Francis Bacon (1625) 126 See Shannon, 51. fiElyot intermittently uses the phrase ‚liberty of speech™; Holland uses it countless timesfl in addition to phrases such as filiberty of speech,fl fispeaking freely,fl and fifree speaking.fl 142 (41). 127 He contends that as an anodyne to this anxiety, early modern rhetorical handbooks typically present frank speech in one of two ways : as fiboldness of speechfl or as an fiapology for speaking out, rather than the ac t of speaking outfl itself (41). In the first instance, which, according to Colclough, few handbooks employ, frank sp eech is seen as speaking out to a person believed to be beyond reproach, and it is here that the risk of contesting social stratification primarily occurs. The latter instance of pres enting frank speech as an fiapology,fl however, renders it fairly innocuous in that it becomes a rhetorical procedure which is fimore susceptible to intelligible explanation than the figures of thoug ht,fl such as boldness of speech, since fia writer can easily suggest an example or typical formulationfl (46). Though their theses may be questionable (particularly, the telos Parkin-Speer accords to parrhsia), a closer examination of si xteenth-century rhetorics dem onstrates a period perception of frank speech as both an ethical obligation to freely speak one™s conscience and an expression of regret for overstepping social boundaries. Th omas Wilson, a Protestant who fled to the Continent upon the accession of Mary, charac terizes fiFrenesse of speachefl in his 1553 The art of rhetorique as a moment: when wee speake boldely, & without feare, even to the proudest of them, whatsoever we please, or have list to speake. Diogenes he rein did excel, and feared no man when he sawe just cause to saie his mynde. This worl de wanteth suche as he was, and hath over many suche, as never honest ma[n ] was, that is to say, flattere rs, fawners, and southers of mennes saiynges. (sig. Dd2v) 127 According to Achilleos, Bacon™s sugges tion that the friend is a counselor both situates friendship and frank speech in the ficontext of hierarchal relationships of patronagefl and potentially disrupts the social order since supposed social inferiors chastise those believed to be infallible or beyond reproach (643). Also see Shannon, 185-222. 143 Abraham Fraunce (beneficiary of Si dney and admirer of Spenser), in The Arcadian rhetorike likewise depicts filibertie of speachfl as a moral obligation wh ere one courageously and frankly speaks to one fito whome otherwis e wee owe dutie and reverencefl: fiLicence also & libertie of speach seemeth to be a certaine exclamation; wh en in the presence of those to whome otherwise wee owe dutie and reverence, wee speake boldly a nd confidentlyfl (sig E4v). In both instances, frank speech is perceived as an opportunity or fijust causefl for unapologetic criticism; one can fiboldly and confidentlyfl speak their conscience a nd say fiwhatsoever [they] please, or have list to speakefl. The moral fortitude and conviction re quired to ‚speak one™s mind,™ at least according to Wilson, is increasingly rare in a world full of fiflatterers, fawners, and southers [i.e., soothers]fl, and it is this rarity that buttresses the power and moral value of frank speech. While these texts depict frank speech as an external manifestation of one™s conscience, handbooks such as the senior Henry Peacham™s The garden of eloquence or George Puttenham™s The arte of english poesie characterize parrhsia as a rhetorical maneuver expressing regret for speaking out of turn or place. In his definition of fiParrhesiafl, the curate Peacham emphasizes the remorse or contrition one should express for th eir fiboldenessefl: fiParrhesia, when speaking before them whome we ought to reverence and f eare, & having something to say, which either toucheth th[em]selves, or their friends so, de sire them to pardon our boldenessefl (sig. M2v- M3r). The 1593 edition places an even greate r emphasis on the explanatory element of parrhsia, all the while downplaying the moral significan ce of speaking frankly: fiParrhesia is a forme of speech by which the Orator speaking before those whom he feareth, or ought to reverence,–preventeth the displeasure and offen ce that might be taken, as by craving pardon afore hand, and by shewing the necessitie of free sp eech in that behalfe, or by some other like forme of humble submission and modest insinuationfl (sig. R1r). Puttenham places an equal 144 emphasis on fibespeak[ing] pardon before handfl in his discussion of fiParsia,fl and similar to Peacham, underscores the rhetorical and inst rumental maneuvering necessary in order to minimize offence: fiThe fine and subtill perswader wh en his intent is to sting his adversary, or els to declare his mind in broad and liberal speeches, which might breede offence or scandal, he will seeme to bepeake pardon before hand, whereby his licentiousness may be the better borne withallfl (sig. Cc1v). Recent studies on early modern friendship also consider how the era™s discourse intersects with frank speech and rhetoric. Such a focus concentrates, first and foremost, on the figure of the flatterer, characte rized by Sir Thomas More in his Latin poem, fiOn a False Friend,fl as fione™s worst enemy who in the guise of a fr iend deceitfully works mischief by unsuspected guilefl (194). Echoing More, Laurie Shannon observe s how the era™s friendship materials depict the flatterer as one who disrupts or fidisables– friendship™s unityfl by fi[d]irectly disjoining truth and languagefl (47). Through the use of rhetoric, the flatterer adroitly explo its one™s self-love to his own advantage and his opinions and loyalties shift depending on the mood of the other. He is thus chameleon-like and, as Wendy Olmsted notes, frequently portrayed as fihard to see, for he is, above all, changeable, having no anchor in virtue" (fiPlainnessfl 182). In addition to flattery, Shannon and Olms ted demonstrate how the era™s friendship discourse keenly recognizes the frequent need to fashion frank speech for social, political, and ethical purposes. Different from the flatterer who uses rhetoric, according to Olmsted, to fienslave others,fl or the humanist scholar who us es it to achieve upward mobility, as Alan Stewart claims, fashioned speech is fre quently depicted, as it is in Sidney™s The New Arcadia , as 145 a way in which fivirtuous persons govern themselves and others by persuasion.fl 128 Shannon affirms Olmsted™s contention through a readi ng of Francis Bacon™s fiOf Counselfl and fiOf Friendshipfl (1612) as we ll as Shakespeare™s The Winter™s Tale . As she contends, Bacon and Shakespeare demonstrate fithe degree to which frank, truthful speech alone is inadequate to fully perform th[e] officefl of friendship; rather, the friend must learn to practice the ficraftfl of frank speech sensibly and ethically and not be afraid to employ rhetoric when necessary (190). Indeed, according to Shannon, fifriendship™s practical modalities of speech,fl like the polity discussed by Bacon, is a fiscience or craftfl necessary for its maintenance (190; 188). The fifriend, as a prudential practitioner,fl must cultivate a fipracti ce of judging cases, timeliness, circumstances, and the probabilities of efficacyfl when choosing to speak frankly (191-2). Olmsted, in another text on frank speech and friendship, examines how friendship material, as well as a tragedy such as Shakespeare™s King Lear , address the potential failure of frank and fiplain speechfl (fiPlainnessfl 181). According to Olmstead, such a fa ilure necessitates the us e of unethical means, such as disguise or false speec h, in order to maintain one™s et hical bond to the friend. Olmsted contends that in a text such as King Lear , fifriendship [i]s [often perc eived as] a social instrument adaptable to the cultivation of ethical friendshipsfl (181). Building on Olmsted™s essay, I demonstrate how antagonizing and deliberately ange ring the friend is anothe r strategy that Tudor and early-Stuart friendship discourse and Shakespeare™s tragedy suggest should be employed in the maintenance of ethical bonds Œ according to these texts, one angers the friend in order to 128 See Stewart, Close Readers: Humanism and Sodomy in Early Modern England (Princeton, 1997). Also see Lorna Hutson, The Usurer™s Daughter: Male Friendship and Fictions of Women in Sixteenth-Century England (Routledge, 1994), as well as her fiAfterwordfl in Lochman, 239-48. 146 encourage them to take care of the self. Moreover , as Plutarch and Foucault demonstrate, tactful parrhsia is not so much an outright failure of fra nk and fiplain speechfl as it is a fundamental component of the tekhne of parrhsia Œ indeed, Plutarch contends that fiit is necessary [for the friend] to treat frankness as a fi ne art,fl and Holland construes this as the need for one to employ, among other things, figreat discretion and ci rcumspection–in making remonstrances & speaking freely unto friendsfl (74D; sig. K4v). 129 In addition to Olmsted™s essay, Scott Franci s™s astute study of fifriendly antagonismfl in Montaigne and early modern French translations of Plutarch help clarify the fiethics of angerfl glossed by Foucault. It also profoundly informs my reading of tactful antagonism in early modern friendship discourse and Shakespeare™s King Lear. Francis, reading Montaigne™s fiOf the disadvantage of greatnessfl and fiOf the art of discussionfl (c. 1585-88) as chapte rs unified by Plutarch™s treatise on flattery and frank speech, contends that the French skeptic outlines fian ethics of antagonism with repercussions for both friendship and polit icsfl (124). Unlike the flatterer, who employs false speech for fisimple a dulationfl or a superficial fifrankness which is not genuine or beneficial,–anta gonistic friendship may be recogni zed by the pain it causes for the sake of the truth; the truth hurts, but someti mes, a friend must hurt a friend in order to help himfl (124). In terms of politics, Francis claims that fian ethics of antagonismfl is best exemplified through the sovereign-counselor relationship wher e one learns either how to receive frank criticism, as is the case of the ruler fino one ever challenge[s]–in word or deed,fl or how best to 129 Holland clarifies that this fidiscretion and circumspectionfl requires knowledge of fi how much it is the greater and str onger remedie that friendship can use, and hath more need to be used in time and place convenient, and more wisely to be tempered with a meane and mediocrity.fl 147 deliver it, as is the case with his counselor or the one in the precarious situation of challenging the sovereign (125). This latter element, th e firepercussionsfl of fifriendly antagonismfl on sixteenth-century French politics, is of chief concern to Franci s, who examines Montaigne™s two essays for how they query the susceptibility of th e powerful to self-love and flattery as well as resistance to frank speech and guidance Œ a query which Francis reads as Montaigne™s critique of Henry III of France. Francis™s emphasis on the biographical aspect of Montaigne™ s life, most notably, Henry III™s request that he join him as an advisor, while illuminating, overshadows an examination of the firepercussionsfl of fifriendly antagonismfl as regards both the era™s friendship discourse and politics (128). While Francis narrowly views the politics of fifriendly an tagonismfl as that which pertains to the sovereign and hi s or her counselor, and thus elid es, labor, household, or religious relationships in a broader cont ext, he also marginalizes the firepercussionsfl to France™s friendship discourse in the sixteenth-century. Fo r instance, he does not account for how fifriendly antagonismfl complicates the theoreti cally elegant claims of friends hip as a quasi-utopia, where, to quote another essay by Montaign e, fiOf friendship,fl there is a figenerall & universall heat, and equally tempered, a constant and setled heat, al l pleasure and smoothnes, that hath no pricking or stinging in it.fl In a similar vein, Francis refrains from considering at length how fifriendly antagonismfl ruptures the belief in the friend as an alter ego, where, to quote Montaigne once again, a ficomplete fusion of–willsfl occurs. It w ould benefit a study of early modern friendship discourse to consider how it depicts frank speech and responds to the idea of fifriendly antagonism.fl Indeed, how is the idea of one fiwho venture[s] to criticizefl and anger the friend received in Tudor and early-Stu art friendship materials? Is it, as Montaigne claims, fia remarkable act of friendship,fl or is it perceive d as insidious and unbecomi ng of the friend? Is it 148 perhaps a hybrid of these two positions? How do these materials respond to Plutarch™s advice that one recognize that speaking fr ankly is always bound to a rhetor ical situation where one must tactfully admonish the friend? Is this advice construed as unnecessarily making ficoncessions to self-love,fl as Francis claims in his reading of this treatise, or is it perceived, as Plutarch contends, as aiding in self-knowledge and improv ement of the other (125)? More important, how does the idea of fifriendly antagonism,fl and more specifically tactful antagonism, manifest in discussions of caring for the self and others in early modern English literature and culture, in terms of friendship and the main tenances of one™s conscience? Parrhsia and fithe art of lifefl: Foucault at Berkeley and the Collège de France While Foucault focuses on clarifying in the 1982 spring lectures how caring for the self contributes to the formation of the ethical subject, toward the end of the year, he begins to gesture toward specific actions that one should employ in the care of others. In subsequent lectures at Berkeley in the fa ll of 1983 and the Collège de Fr ance in the spring of 1983 and 1984 he significantly expands on this idea of how one can help the ot her realize the need to work on his moral being. Published posthumously as Fearless Speech, The Government of Self and Others, and The Courage of Truth respectively, Foucault™s emphasis on parrhsia, or ‚frank™ and ‚free speech,™ illuminates his ear lier claims from spring 1982 that caring for the self involves fian attitude towards the self, others, and worldfl ( Hermeneutics 10). Indeed, the care of the self discussed in the 1982 lectures is also, in the Berkeley and later Collège lectures, to borrow a quote from Frédéric Gros, fia care fo r truth-telling, which calls for courage, and especially a care for the world and for othersfl (Courage 349). As Foucault claims in The Courage of Truth , according to Socratic and other philosophical sc hools, most notably, Platonism, Epicureanism, and Stoicism, parrhsia is an attempt at fitruth-telling whos e final objective and constant concern 149 [i]s to teach men to take care of themselvesfl (110 ). As an act that teache s others how to properly care for the self, parrhsia fiaims to transform the mode of bei ng of its interlocutor in order that he learns to take care of himself correctlyfl (348). Toward the end of the 1982 lectures, Foucault broaches a topic that comes to occupy most of the publicly expressed thought of his final years: parrh sia. Broadly characterized in a lecture dated March 10 as a form of figovernme nt of oneself or of othersfl and a fimoral quality–demanded of every speaking subjec t,fl Foucault provides an overview of parrhsia in antiquity that he will exponentially expound upon in the Berkeley and 1984 Collège lectures (Hermeneutics 404). 130 According to Foucau lt, fi[e]tymologically, parrhsia is the act of telling all (frankness, open-heartedness, plain speaking, speaking openly, speaking freely)fl (366).131 As such, he initially contends that parrhsia is construed as speech fireleased from the rules [believed to govern social interactions and hi erarchies and] freed from [their corresponding] rhetorical procedures,fl though he later demonstrates the import of rhetoric to frank speech (406). While parrhsia is typically thought of as speech from below, insofar as a subordinate speaks frankly to a superior or one perceived to be beyond reproach, it can also occur, as Foucault demonstrates, between anyone willing to fitake a risk fl (16). As such, orators, politicians, strangers, and friends can be said to use parrhsia in a variety of circumstances. For instance, Foucault observes how an orator runs the risk of endangering his fipopularity because 130 Also see fi3 March 1982: Second Hour,fl 366-68 and fi10 March 1982: First Hour,fl 371-391. 131 While Foucault mostly uses the Greek te rm even when discussing Roman and early Christian thought, he notes that fi[t]he Latins generally translate parrhsia as libertas fl (Hermeneutics 366). For a succinct history of parrhsia in antiquity, see Fearless Speech, 11-24. Also see Colclough, 16-37. 150 his opinions are contrary to the ma jority™s opinions,fl or a stranger, his safety when in a new city (16). In terms of friendship, Foucault notes how it is t horoughly imbued with parrhesia: fi[w]hen, for example, you see a friend doing some thing wrong you risk incurring his anger by telling him he is wrong, you are acting as a parrhsiastesfl (16). Duty is another central feature of parrhsia and, like taking a risk, it too demonstrates how frank speech is not confined solely to speech from below. Indeed, drawing on the ex ample of the friend, Foucault shows the broad applications of frank speech beyond the subject- sovereign relationship and simultaneously points to the ethical import underpinning parrhsia: "to criticize a friend or a sovereign is an act of parrhesia insofar as it is a dut y to help a friend who does not recognize his wrongdoing, or insofar as it is a duty towards the city to help the king better himself as a sovereign. Parrhesia is thus related to freedom and dutyfl (19). The perc eived association of friendship and frank speech is a topic of considerable import to Plutarch™s di scussion of flattery, a text , which as noted in the introduction, leaves an indelible mark on early modern friendship disc ourse similar to Cicero. Later, I discuss how early modern friendship di scourse, drawing largely on Plutarch, envisions the role of parrhsia between friends. I likewise discuss in a later section how Foucault™s claim that fi[p] arrhsia is thus related to freedom and dutyfl ma nifests in early modern discussions of the conscience, most notably, as it rela tes to earthly and heavenly duty. The parrhsiastes, or the one prompted by conviction to courageously speak ‚truth™ to power, likewise embodies a ficommitment to a bondfl between speech and ficonductfl (406). Indeed, on a fundamental level, the parrh siastes ficommits himself to do what he says and to be the subject of conduct who conforms in every way to the truth he expresses,fl which, simply put, means that his speech and action align (406). In this way, parrhsia fulfills in antiquity what Foucault terms a fipedagogicalfl and fipsychagogicalfl function (407). As a fipedagogicalfl 151 function, parrh sia fiendows any subject whatsoever with aptitudes, capabi lities, knowledges, and so on, that he did not possess before,fl meaning that the other learns different ways to act Œ ways that the parrhsiastes views as more ethical Œ through hearing one frankly speak (407). The perceived extent and nature of these skills, as we ll as how they solidify the relationship between both speaker and auditor, depend on the school of thought. For instance, according to Epicureanism, most notably that of Philodemus, parrhsia generates benevolence and reciprocity since one is grateful to/for the other and his frank speech. 132 According to Stoic philosophers like Seneca, parrhsia illuminates the import of transparent and eloquent speech since the parrhsiastes must be mindful of the othe r™s precarious situation if he wishes to successfully teach one to care for the self. 133 As I demonstrate below, the concern that the parrhsiastes must employ tact when speaking frankly can also be found in the work of Neoplatonic philosophers such as Plutarch a nd thus causes pause to consider how Foucault™s contention, in the 1982 Collège lectures, that parrhsia is fireleased from the rules [of]–rhetorical proceduresfl surfaces in early modern friendship discourse as well as in his later 1984 lectures (406). Foucault contends, however, that parrh sia is far more than a transmission of knowledge; in fact, it demands a transformation of the audito r, or the one to whom frank speech is directed. Foucault terms this demand the fipsychagogicalfl function of parrhsia, which, as he observes, is a requirement to fimodify the mode of being of the subject whom [the speaker] addressesfl (407). As he clarifies in the Berkel ey and 1984 Collège lectures, in late-antiquity, this function 132 See his discussion of Philodemus, 387-90. 133 See his discussion of Seneca, 400-404. Also see, Lucius A. Seneca, Epistles , vol 1-3 (Loeb, 1917). 152 emphasizes the import of fi askesis,fl or a fikind of pr actical training or exercise,fl where one cultivates, among other things, fia specific rela tionship to oneself Œ a relationship of self- possession and self-sovereigntyfl (Fearless 143).134 In six lectures delivered at UC Berkeley in the fall of 1983, Foucault explicates aspects of parrhsia first introduced in the earlier 1982 Collège series. 135 In particular, he examines how parrhsia functions as a frank account of one™s inwar dness, free from unnecessary rhetoric, and arising from a conviction and dut y to the self and others. Fou cault reiterates the general claim that parrhsia is frankness of speec h, although he is more explicit about how the parrh siastes feels compelled to give a full account of his c onscience Œ indeed, Foucault contends that the parrhsiastes fiis someone who says everything he has in mind: he does not hide anything, but opens his heart and mind completely to other people through his discoursefl (Fearless 12). This is readily accomplished through the use of transparent speech where one eschews fiany kind of rhetorical form which would veil what he thinks,fl and aims, rather, to fimake it manifestly clear and obvious that what he says is hi s own opinionfl Œ an opinion which the parrhsiastes sees as tantamount to the ‚truth™ (12). 136 Foucault likewise clarifies that parrhsia entails a 134 For Foucault™s definition of askesis, which, as he contends, radically differs from fiChristian asceticism,fl see Fearless, 143-45. In this context, fiaskesisfl refers to: (1) fiself-possession" rather than "renunciation of the self;" (2) engagement with the world, rather than "detachment;fl and, (3) practical advice fo r living, rather than theoretical. 135 In his preface to Fearless Speech, Joseph Pearson notes that fithe lectures were given as part of Foucault™s seminar, entitled ‚Discourse and Truth,™ devoted to the study of the Greek notion of parrhesiafl (7). 136 fiThe parrhsiastes says what is true because he knows that it is true; and he knows that it is true because it really is true. The parrhsiastes is not only sincere and says what is his 153 commitment to one™s opinion in spite of danger and that the parrh siastes is readily identifiable as fia speaker [who] says something dangerous Œ di fferent from what the majority believesfl (15). Parrhsia is thus linked to conviction and ficourage in the face of da ngerfl where one takes a risk of one form or another, whethe r it be of friendship, political standing, or even life. (16). Of greatest import, however, is the fact that frank speech arises from one™s integrity and commitment to fia moral duty instead of self-interest or moral apathyfl (20). Parrhsia tethered to one™s ethos or moral character distinguishes ficourage ous speechfl from a fipejorative sense of the word not very far from ‚chattering,™ and which c onsists in saying any- or everything one has in mind without qualificationfl (13). The courageous speech of the parrhsiastes, grounded in a risk of incurring the anger of another, is thus depicted as arisi ng from acts such as informing one of the need to modify behavior or declaring his thinking or action wrong, though in some instances, the parrhsiastes may also make a confession to a person of power. The ethos of the parrhsiastes, as well as the inherent risk of speaking frankly, thus limns a fispecific relationship to [the] self [where the parrhsiastes] prefers himself as a truth-teller than as a living being who is false to himselffl and to others (17). In the latter part of the Berkeley series, Foucault discusses at length the relation between parrhsia and the practice of caring for the self Œ a relation which he cont ends illuminates how frank speech is an integral part of fian ar t of lifefl promoted by ancient philosophy (23). fi‚[P]hilosophical™ parrhsia,fl characterized as the political and ethical dimensions of frank opinion, but his opinion is also the truth. He says what he knows to be truefl (14). While Foucault™s exhaustive discussion of ‚truth™ is a crucial part of his 1982-1984 Collège lectures, I tangentially broach the topic through my examina tion of the alignment of speech and action in parrhsia. See Fearless Speech, 13-15, for a succinct discussion of ‚truth™ at odds fiwith the modern (Cartesian) conception of evidencefl (14). Also see, Courage, 2-3, 8-9, and 218-220. 154 speech, is conceived finot primarily [as] a concep t or theme, but [as] a practice which tries to shape specific relations individuals have with themselvesfl (105-6). 137 As a practice, fiphilosophical parrhsiafl encourages one to forge an ethos where one is ficourageous in his life and in his speechfl (101). This practice is heavily predicated on an ability to align speech with action, or as Foucault observes, fito show [throug h frank speech] that there is a relation between the rational discourse, the logos, [one is] able to use, and the way that [one] live[s]fl (97). Foucault terms this ability to couple frank speech with the ethical action it demands an ability fito ‚give an account™ of oneself,fl and he broadl y defines it as an alignment of one™s fi biosfl and filogos,fl rather than a ficonfessionfl or an fiautobiographical accountfl (96). It would be remiss, however, to claim that parrhsia is solely a fispecific relationship to [the] selffl as this would overlook the other fihuman relationships fl Foucault aligns with frank speech; namely, ficommunity life,fl fipublic life,fl and fiindividual personal relationshipsfl (108). As an exemplum of ethical speech and action through his logos and bios , the parrhsiastes employs frank speech fito convince someone that he must take care of himself and of others; and this means that he must change his lifefl rather than simply hi s opinions or beliefs (Fearless 106). This defining characteristic of fiphilosophical parrhsia,fl similar to Foucault™s 1982 Collège lectures, illuminates how the care of the self and others are inseparable Œ indeed, the parrhsiastes™s imperative for one to fi change his lifefl centers on a direc tive for another to fichange one™s style of life, one™s relation to ot hers, and one™s relation to oneselffl (101). It is equally important to recognize the ro le of rhetoric that Foucault assigns to 137 See Fearless, 169-173. Foucault™s concluding remarks on the lecture series underscore the political import of critical, frank speech. This is mo st evident in his discussion of the fiproblematizationfl of parrhsia in fiSocratic-Platonicfl thought (172). 155 parrhsia in his later lectures as this illuminates how frank speech, as a fimoral qualityfl that contributes to one™s ethos, is also a skill or, to an extent, a tekhne (Hermeneutics 377). Indeed, contradicting claims by scholars th at Foucault presents frank speech as completely divorced from rhetoric, he amply demonstrates in his Collège and Berkeley lectures how the parrhsiastes often strategically employs frank speech when criticizing others Œ this is particularly true in late- antiquity with individuals such as the rhetorician Quintillian. 138 According to Foucault: What characterizes parrhsia is above all that basically it is not so much defined by the content itself Œ which, it goes without saying is give n, is the truth Œ but that it is a specific, particular practice of tr ue discourse defined by rules of prudence, skill, and the conditions that require one to say the truth at this moment, in this form, under these conditions, and to the individual inasmuch, and only inasmuch as he is capable of receiving it, and receiving it best, at this moment in time. (Hermeneutics 384) In this passage, while ficontent itself fl undoubtedly forms a significant part of parrh sia, the manner in which one employs firules of prud ence [and] skillfl when speaking frankly and ‚truthfully™ proves to be of greater im port. Accordingly, what ficharacterizes parrhsiafl and one™s ability to skillfully and prudently speak ‚t ruth to power™ is an awareness of ficonditions,fl such as the action that elicits frank speech, the social occasion where censure occurs, and, most important, emotional sensitivity toward th e individual to whom it is addressed. This latter component encourages a mindfulne ss of speech in hopes that it will increase 138 See Hermeneutics, 381-83 for his discussion of Quintillian, tekhne, and parrh sia. Also see Fearless, 20-21. 156 the likelihood that the one to whom the parrhsiastes speaks is ficapable of receivingfl criticism and, equally important, changing or transforming his life. Thus it is sometimes necessary for the parrhsiastes to utilize rhetoric or a fitactic of parrhsiafl in order to compel the auditor to take care of himself Œ indeed, Foucault argues that while fi parrh sia is fundamentally freed from the rules of rhetoric, it [nonetheless] takes up rhetor ic obliquely and only uses it if it needs tofl (385- 86). 139 Although tactful use of rhetoric by the parrhsiastes increases the likelihood that the auditor will be receptive to criticism, it also raises concerns of unethical use of frank speech. This is particularly true as concerns flatte ry, which Foucault characterizes as the fimoral adversary of speaking freelyfl (Hermeneutics 373). Although tactful parrhsia is often helpful in admonishing the friend, frequently, firhetoric is–its [i.e., flattery™s] ambiguous partner [since]–the privileged instrument of flattery is of course the technique, and possibly the tricks of rhetoricfl (373). 140 The antagonism between rhetoric as possible handmaiden to flattery or frank criticism is central to a canonical text on parrhsia and friendship in antiquity and early modern England: Plutarch™s fiHow to Tell a Fl atterer From a Friendfl Œ translated into English by Philemon Holland in 1603 as fiHow a man may discerne a flatterer from a fr iend.fl Foucault characterizes 139 Also see Hermeneutics, fi10 March 1982: First Hour.fl Foucault reiterates the relationship between parrhsia and rhetoric: fiSpeaking freely mu st free itself from rhetoric, but not only or solely so as to expel or exclude it, but rather, by being free from its rules, to be able to use it within strict, always tactically defined limits, where it is really necessaryfl(373). 140 See The Government of Self and Others: Lectures at the Collège de France 1982-1983 (Macmillan, 2010), 302. fi [P]arrh sia™s shadow, its bad and dubious imitation. It is what is called flattery.fl 157 this essay as fientirely taken up with an analysis of parrhsia, or rather of the two opposed, conflicting practices of flattery, on the one hand, and parrhsia (free-spokenness) on the otherfl (Courage 7). While Plutarch devotes considerable at tention to the outward signs that allow one to discriminate the friend from the flatterer, among which is included the tendency of the flatterer to use fiplaine and free speech [that is] neither sincere and naturall,fl he likewise implores the reader to learn how to tactfu lly correct and admoni sh the other through the use of frank speech (sig. H3r). The treatise is divided in two, with the first part devoted to flattery and the latter part frank speech. Plutarch™s dual interest in fashi oned speech, while emphasizing how it can be used instrumentally for selfish and selfless ends, si multaneously fiexhibits a certain anxiety over the flatterer™s ability to mimic the behavior of a true friend,fl to quote David Konstan (98). 141 Indeed, Plutarch contends th at fiflattery, which blends its elf with every emotion, every movement, need, and habit, is hard to separate from friendship,fl sin ce it draws from fithat frankness of speech, [which] by common report and be lief, is the language of friendshipfl (51B; 51D). Although current scholarship on early m odern friendship astutely identifies the slipperiness in the era™s discourse between the flatterer and the friend, as well as flattery and frank speech, the centrality accorded to rhetorical antagonism, as noted in the introduction, has garnered little discussion. Plutarch™s treatise, which as Laurie Shannon observes, fihas a readily visible impact on period thoughtfl Œ most notably, the advice genr e of the ‚prince™s mirror,™ as 141 Also see Konstan, fiFriendship, Frankness, and Flatteryfl in Friendship, Flattery, and Frankness of Speech: Studies on Friendship in the New Testament World (Brill, 1996), 7-20. While Konstan does not consider how rhetoric can be used tactfully by the parrhsiastes to antagonize the auditor, and thus increase chances that he will learn to take care of himself, he does rightly observe how the flatterer uses rhetor ic for instrumental purposes. In Plutarch, the task of fidiscriminate[ng] friends from flatterers remain[s] on the level of rhetoric and overt behavior [particularly] the [flatterer™s] excessive compliance with the companion™s desiresfl (18). 158 well as friendship discourse in general Œ also elaborates on a facet of frank speech partially absent from Foucault™s lectures on the care of the self: anger (191). 142 While Foucault discusses the danger posed to the one who speaks frankly, which ranges from losing a friend or political advantage to losing one™s freedom or life, a detailed account of anger is surprisingly absent from his lectures on parrhsia.143 A rare instance can be found in a lecture dated March 10, 1982 on the fitwin adversariesfl of frank sp eech, that is, flattery and rhetoric (373). Here, anger is tangentially di scussed as an emotion fr equently fipaired withfl flatteryŒ indeed, Foucault notes th at in classical discussions of parrhsia, fianger and flattery go togetherfl (374). He also contends that similar to flattery, anger is an important component in fithe practice of the self,fl insofar as it poten tially teaches one fiself-control and command over othersfl (374). That is, anger, when encouraging self-reflection and positive action, can instruct one on how to exert power over the self and others in an ethical and moderate manner. Foucault defines anger as fithe uncontro lled, violent rage of someone towards someone else over whom the former, the angry person, is entitled to exercise his power, is in a posi tion to do so, and who is therefore in a position to abuse his powerfl (374). Similar to the discussion of emotional awareness in the 1982 Collège lectur es, anger is perceived to origin ate from an absence of self- consciousness and will. Accordingly, fithe question of anger [is the question] of being carried away by anger or the impossibility of controlling oneselffl (374). 142 Examples of the fiprince™s mirror,fl or speculum principum , include Desiderius Erasmus™s The Education of a Christian Prince (1516), Sir Thomas Elyot™s The Boke Named the Governour (1531), and Niccolò Machiavelli™s Il principe (1532). Also see Judith Ferster, Fictions of Advice: The Literature and Politics of Counsel in Late Medieval England (University of Pennsylvania, 1996). 143 See, Fearless Speech 16-19. 159 In early modern friendship discourse, particular ly discussions of fla ttery and anger, fiself- controlfl focuses on tempering ex cessive self-love wh ich, to quote Plutarch, works to minimize fiself-conceit and opinion of his owne,fl and thus make one less susceptible to flattery, while anger is broadly seen as potentially teaching on e how to master their pa ssions and improve their moral being Œ Foucault refers to this as the abil ity to attain fisovereignt y over oneselffl (sig. G8v; 374). The fiethics of anger,fl a provocative idea F oucault raises but refrains from elaborating on in his Berkeley and Collège lectures, manifests in Plutarch™s discussion of frank speech where anger is presented as fruitfully encouraging th e other to care for the self when judiciously invoked by the parrhsiastes, or one who speaks frankly Œ ind eed, Plutarch claims that fia man may offend his friend with intentio n to doe him goodfl (375; sig. H4v). 144 By learning how to ‚properly™ fihurtfl or fioffend a fr iend,fl and thereby make the othe r aware of the import of caring for the self, the parrhsiastes thus becomes, in a reoccurri ng analogy in Plutarch, a physician who administers fia sharpe rebuke, as–some bitter or tart medicine, to save or p[r]eserve the life of his patientfl (sig. H4v). 145 The following section, which outlines the import of Plutarch to early modern friendship discourse, focuses on how frank speech is presented as a tekhne where one learns to use fithe sharpe rebukefl tactfully to anger the friend. A fr equent concern of Plutarch™s treatise is to impress on the reader how fiit is necessary to trea t frankness as a fine art,fl as Babbitt™s modern translation eloquently phrases it, where one pr actices figreat discretio n and circumspection–in 144 See 55D. fiFor one ought to hurt a friend only to help him; and ought not by hurting him to kill friendship.fl 145 See 55D. Babbitt refers to this fisharpe rebukefl as the fistinging word.fl 160 making remonstrances & speaking freely unto friends ,fl to quote Holland (74D; sig. K5v). fiHow a man may discerne a flattere r from a friend,fl along with ot her early modern friendship materials, demonstrates how frank speech broadens the rhetorical and emotional repertoire of caring for the self and others, and thus calls for a broader reading of the treatise than has historically been the case in early modern literary and cultural studies. Tactful Antagonism in Plutarch Similar to ‚vulgar™ tran slations of Cicero™s De amicitia , which, as the previous chapter demonstrated, appear in a variety of cultural settings and provide a fr amework for the era™s friendship discourse, Plutarch™s treatise on flatte ry and frank speech, taken from a miscellany of seventy-eight essays on ethics known as the Moralia , also proves influen tial to early modern English culture and friendship theories. Like De amicitia , the Moralia is used extensively in lower and higher form curriculums to teach gr ammar and, more importantly, ethics, as T.W. Baldwin and Martha Hale Shackford observe. 146 For instance, John Ch eke, tutor to a young Edward VI, more or less adheres to a general sc affolding of teaching moral philosophy in the era when he has students read the Moralia immediately after the Gospels and Proverbs. 147 Nicholas Udall, in his forward to Apophthegmes (1536), an ‚Englished ™ version of Erasmus™s Adages, echoes humanist pedagogues and scholars such as Cheke and Erasmus through his contention that finever hath there been among the Greke writers (especially as touching matters of virtue and 146 See William Shakespeare™s Small Latine & Lesse Greeke (Illinois, 1944), 1:208-09; 1:406; 1:535; 1:540. Also see Shackford, Plutarch in Renaissance England, with Special Reference to Shakespeare (Wellesley, 1929), 22. 147 Cheke echoes the advice of Erasmus th at after students read the Gospels, Ecclesiastes, and Proverbs, they should then firead the Apophthegmata of Plutarch and then his Morals, for nothing can be found purer than these works.fl See Baldwin 1:208-09. 161 good behavour) any one more holy then Plutarchus, or better worthie of al men to bee readefl (qtd in Shackford 23). While fireferences to Plut archan texts,fl such as those made by Cheke, Udall, and Erasmus, fiare legion in the Renaissa nce,fl to quote Shannon, one may also locate specific references to fiHow to Tell a Flatte rer From a Friendfl (191). Although, as Shannon rightly asserts, a llusions fiinvoking his Lives (first translated into English from French by Thomas North in 1579) are perhaps easiest to document,fl texts such as Erasmus™s Education of a Christian Prince (1516), Elyot™s The boke named the governour (1531), Stephen Gosson™s The ephemerides of Phialo (1579), Sir Thomas H oby™s translation of The Book of the courtier (1561), and Sir Thomas More™s poem cited above, incorporat e or allude to Plutarch ™s treatise on flattery and frank speech (191). 148 Additionally, Philemon Holland™s 1603 The philosophie, commonly called, the morals , provides the era with an ‚Englished™ version of Plutarch™s treatise. Holland, whose father, John, fled to the Continent with Miles Coverdale duri ng the reign of Mary, produces the only English transla tion during the era, a lthough it is used heavily in lower form and university curriculums well in to the Interregnum (Lee 152). As the title of Plutarch™s treatise suggests, he outlines how to distinguish a false friend and sycophant from a true friend and parrhsiastes. The flatterer, charac terized as a fickle fiChamoelionfl who feigns unanimity with the other in mood, opinion, and speech, simultaneously presents himself as inferior to the friend and freque ntly blames himself as well as 148 For discussions of texts where fiHow to Tell a Flattererfl app ears, see: Colclough, 192; Shannon, 48; and Shackford, 24-28. For an overview of Shakespeare™s use of Plutarch™s Lives, see Stuart Gillespie, English Translation and Classical Reception: Towards a New Literary History (Blackwell, 2011), 47-59. 162 others for the friend™s sh ortcomings (sig. H3v). 149 Furthermore, as Babbitt succinctly observes, Plutarch™s fiessay is not concerned with the imp ecunious and dependent a dherents (parasites) of the rich, but with the adroit flatterers of a higher standing who worm their way into the confidence of great menfl (263). Thus, unlike para sites such as Sir Toby, the flatterer fikeepeth not companie nor sorteth with poore folke, or such persons as live obscurely & are of no abilitie;fl rather, he attaches himself to figreat housesfl and fimighty States ,fl and, like Gaveston or Iago, is always fisober,–hath an oare in every boat, [and]–hath a minde to be privie and partie in all deep secretsfl concer ning the friend (sig. H1r-H1v). While a common perception contends that it is fia difficult matter–to discerne a flatterer from a friend, seeing there is no difference between them, either in doing pleasure or, or yielding praise [and thus]–a right hard ma tter it is to know the one from the other,fl Plutarch nonetheless identifies two ways to discoverer the sycophan t: inconstancy and ‚soft™ or inoffensive frank speech (sig. H1v). For instance, keen awareness of the fiuniforme equalitie in all [the flatterer™s] intentions and actionsfl across time, including fithe course of his former lifefl Œ or as Babbitt eloquently translates it, fimode of lifefl Œ pr ovide a window through which one may determine whether the friend fichanges his shape to fit his receiverfl or maintains a fairly consistent ethos (sig. H2v-H3r; sig. 52F). 150 The flatterer™s use of frank sp eech, which is rarely used to admonish, but almost always to praise, agree wit h, or entertain the friend, offers another method 149 For instance, see 60B-E & 61E-F; 53D; 64E-65E. 150 fi[F]rankness of speech, by common report and be lief, is the language of friendshipfl (51C). 163 of discovery. Plutarch warns that one must be fiin suspition the conversation and acquaintance of such, as never doe or say any th ing but that which is pleasing, continually keeping one course without change, never rubbing where the gall is , nor touching the sore, without reproofe and contradictionfl (sig. H5r). This is not to say th at pleasure is antithetical to friendship, a point Plutarch and other classical texts on the subject readily concede; rather, it is to claim that disagreement and rebuke, that is, the figall,fl firepr oofe,fl or fistingfl of friendship, is construed as a cornerstone of friendship si nce it improves the other™s ethos when judiciously practiced: fihe [the flatterer] is of the opinion that he ought to do all for to be pleas ant, whereas the true friend doing alwaies that which his dutie requireth, many times pleaseth, as often againe he is displeasantfl (sig. H4r). 151 When the flatterer does employ a sembla nce of the fistingfl of frank speech however, it is not to be fidispleasantfl in hopes of encouraging moral growth in the other, but only to encourage fithat part which is voide of reason and full of passionsfl and provoke negative emotions such as envy, temper, bitterness, para noia Œ indeed, fiif a man looke neerely and have good regard unto a flatterer, he sh all never finde that all the word s he useth, minister or procure one jot of good to him that is wise and governed by reason, but feed fooles with the pleasant delights of love, kindle and augment the fire of inconsiderate anger, provoke them unto envie, breed in them an odious and vain e presumption of their owne w it, and increase– their diffidence and distrustfulnesse of othersfl (sig. J2v). Plutarch envisions th e tempering of pleasure with rebuke as a form of great felicity in friendship, st ating, fiwe are to thinke well of friendship when it is pleasant, delightsome and cheerful, if othe rwhiles also it can displease and crosse againefl 151 See 54D-E. 164 (sig. H5r). In other words, one should find the bitterness and antagoni sm of admonishment palatable if it ultimately improves one™s ethos and strengthens their bond with the friend. Not only does Plutarch discuss how to detect a sycophant, but he also advises how to avoid becoming one in friendship. An emphasis on fra nk speech in the latter part of his treatise, most notably how to properly use it so that the fifriend assistenth evermore the better part [of man™s ‚rational nature™], in givi ng counsell and comfort, even as an expert and skilfull Physition,fl proves to be of great import to his advice (sig. J2r). 152 Indeed, unlike the flatterer, who fiappeereth like a botch [i.e., a tumor], rising estsoones upon the corrupt, diseased or inflamed parts of the soul,fl the friend who has learned to responsibly wield frank speech fithat aimeth alwaies at the maintenance and encrease of health,fl aids the othe r in learning to care for themselves (61F). As I demonstrate shortl y, a common claim in early modern friendship discourse is that the best way to ensure fithe ma intenance and encrease of healthfl in the friend, or as Babbitt translates it, the ability to fifoster growth,fl is through the use of rhetorical antagonism, that is, using frank speech to deliberately ange r or emotionally move the other in hopes that he improve his moral being (sig. J2r; 61E). Echoing Foucault™s statement of the firules of prudencefl governing frank speech, albeit in greater detail, Plutarch in structs the reader on the necessary tact that the parrhsiastes must employ. According to Plutarch, fiit is necessary to treat frankness as a fi ne art.fl As such, the tekhne of frank speech includes: knowing the fitime c onvenientfl to admonish the friend so as to 152 The influence of Neoplatonism should be ev ident here, most notab ly in Plutarch™s claim that the fisoule consisteth of two parts, whereof the one is addicted to the truth, loving honestie and reason; the other mo re brutish, of the owne nature unreasonable, given to untruth and withall passionate.fl 165 fitake away the excessive vehemencie and force of sharpe words;fl employing fia certaine kind of elegancie and civilitiefl where one fipurge[s] cleane from [their frankness] all contumelious [i.e., insulting] and injurious words, [s uch as] laughter, scoffes, and sc urrile tauntsfl; clarifying that one does not speak out of self-interest but only as fitouchet h those errors & misdemeanors only which concerne others,fl includi ng the friend; strategically choosi ng what reason, trait, or action to admonish, reserving frank censure for figreater and more grosse faultsfl; ensuring that one be fimost readie to praisefl before admonishing th e other; and finally, r ecognizing that sometimes when one is fidesirous to inci te and stirre them forward unto good things–there would be practiced a cleane and contrarie coursefl, most no tably fibe[ing] vehement, inexorable and never giv[ing] over nor yield[ing]fl in speechfl (sig. J5r; sig. J8r; si g. K3v; sig. K4r-v). The most important skill of the parrh siastes, however, is the ability to alle viate the fistingfl of speaking frankly by ending with fimore mild and pleasant discourses [that] aswage their [i.e., the other™s] grief and refresh their hart agai n that is caste downe and discom fortedfl (sig. K4v). In order to illustrate this point, Plutarch again draws on th e example of figood Physicians and Chirurgians, [who] when they have made [an] incision or cut any member, th ey leave not the place in paine and to[r]ment still, but use certaine fomentations and lenitive infusions to mitigate the anguishfl (sig. K4v). In a similar manner, the parrhsiastes must ensure that admonishment is immediately followed by moderate speech that calms and fiaswa gesfl the chastised friend Œ indeed, like the surgeon who must apply an anodyne to the aggravated area, fithey that after a civill maner have chid or rebuked,–[must] chang[e] their maner of sp ech [and] entertaine thei r friends thus galled or woundedfl (sig. K4v). Such ‚after-care™ is of great import to the success of future admonishments, the friendship itself, and the succe ss of convincing the other to care for the self because fia man stung and nipped once, or t ouched to the quicke by some objurgatorie 166 reprehension,–is ever afte r hardly quieted or reclaimed, and no consolation will serve the turne to appease and comfort him againefl if his passions , including choler, is not kept reasonably at bay (sig. K4v). Teaching the friend to control his passions and correct his faults, that is, to care for the self, is the ultimate aim of the parrhsiastes. Unlike the flatterer, who prevents the other from cultivating self-awareness, and thus fiopposite he is alwaies and contra rie to this precept– Know thyselfe, causing a man to be abused and deceived by his owne selfe, yea and to be ignorant of the good and evill things that be in him,fl the parrhsiastes speaks frankly in order to encourage critical, self-reflection in the fr iend (sig. H1v). As Plutarch c ontends, fithe true and friendly libertie of speech indeed, taketh hold of those that are delinquentfl (sig. J1r). Generally, these errors of the fidelinquentfl are construed as emanating from ex cessive self-love such as the conceits and desires mentioned by Plutarch in the beginning of his treatise. The parrh siastes thus urges that fievery man would la bour and strive with himselfe to roote out that selfe love and overweeningfl because both make one less susceptible to flattery and also increase one™s ability to recognize fihow in all things we ought to es teeme that oracle of [Apollo™s] which commandoth us [t]o know our selves [and] to search into our owne nature and exam ine withall our nouriture and educationfl (sig. J7r). The im perative to care for the self by eliminating vainglory fosters self-knowledge, most notably, of one™s shortcomings , and likewise underscores the necessity of a friend who speaks candidly rather than insincerely: fiif we would looke into our selves and ever and anon consider, how many gro sse vices, troublesome passions, imperfections and defects we have, surely we shall finde that we stood in great neede, not of a false friend to flatter us in our follies, and to praise and extoll us, but rather of one that would frankely finde fault with our doings, and reproove us in those vi ces that ech one privately and in particular doth commitfl (sig. 167 J7r). Likewise, the more one becomes atten tive of his emotional investments, however figross–[or] troublesomefl they may be, the less likel y he is to fall victim to flattery. Plutarch contends that this is a fundamental product of self-knowledge: fiif we be not altogether ignorant of our selves, and wilfully blinde, not seeing that we be covetous, shamelesse, timorous and base minded, we cannot choose but start and finde out a flatterer; neither is it possible that he should escape usfl (sig. I2v). To underscore how frank speech encourages the ot her to care for the self, Plutarch likens the parrh siastes and his counsel to the physician and his medi cine. Crucial to th is analogy is the perceived astringent and restorative qualities of frank speech. According to Plutarch, fia man may offend his friend with intention to doe him good [a nd] he ought (I say) to use a sharpe rebuke as a Physician doth some bitter or ta rt medicine to save or p[r]eserv e the life of his patientfl (sig. H4v). 153 Given that the filibertie of speech where of [Plutarch] speake[s], is [perceived as synonymous] of the nature of a medicine,fl the parrh siastes admonishes the other, not because he feels querulous or vindictive, but because the office of friendship construes this as the surest way to correct fimisgovernment of [the] selfefl and convince one to care for the self : fithe true friend doing alwaies that which hi s dutie requireth, many times plea seth, and as often againe he is displeasant: not that his intention is to displeas e at any time; howbeit if he see it expedient and better so to do, he will not sticke to be a little harsh and unpleasantfl (sig. J6r; sig. K1v; sig. H5r). Frank speech, like a medicine designed fito purge a nd clense the bodie, or to heate and chafe it, or else to incamate and make new flesh to come,fl may be a bitter pill for the friend to swallow, 153 See 55D: fifor one ought to hurt a friend only to help him.fl 168 but it surely proves to be the one of the most fiexpedientfl ways to temper fiignoran[ce] of [the] sel[f]fl and increase knowledge of one™s fiown secret consciencefl (sig. H5r Œ H6r). Early modern friendship materials are aptly attuned to the efficacy of fithe sharpe rebukefl between friends. While this is most evid ent in Holland™s 1603 ‚ vulgar™ translation, as well as the aforementioned texts by Erasmus, Elyot , etc., texts on friendship, such as ‚Englished™ translations of Cicero™s De amicitia and Michel de Montaigne™s Essays, in addition to the late- Tudor friendship pamphlets discussed at length in the previous chapte r, make much of the fisharpefl and fistingingfl word. Echoing Plutarch ™s claim about the e xpediency of frank admonishment in urging the other to care for the self, Cicero cont ends that fithe Aucthoritie of Freendes (giving sou[n]d counsel) beare great sway and force in Friendship, and let the same be used to warne one another, not onely plainly, bu t (if occasion so serve) sharplyefl (Newton sig. C5v). 154 Montaigne also observes the frequent necessity of spea king fisharplyefl and fiboldlyefl to the friend, and characterizes such speech as the hallmark of fitrue friendshipfl and fitruly- perfect lovefl: fi A man had neede of long-tough eares, to heare himselfe freely judged. And because there be few that can endure to heare it without tingling: those which adventure to undertake it with us, shew us a singular effect of true friendship. For, that is a truely-perfect love, which, to profit and doe good, feareth not to hurt or offend .fl Walter Dorke, in his 1589 pamphlet on friendship, lists among the fiArticles, pr ecepts, or statutes of the lawe of Amitiefl the duty of 154 Also see Tiptoft (sig. B5v) and Haringt on (B7v). The marginal gloss in Newton further qualifies this passage by noting that fiFrendes maye not flatter but freelye & boldlye advertise & counsel one an other.fl 169 the friend to deliver fran k counsel to the other fiboldly and freel yfl: fiFriends must not flatter, but boldly and freely advertise, admonish, and counse ll one anotherfl (sig. A4v-r). Finally, Walter Breme, in another late-Tudor fioccasional publ icationfl on friendship, contends fi[g]ood counsell is of great efficacie in a friend,fl and that, similar to Plutarch™s call for fit act and urbanity,fl fi[i]n counsell that thou shalt give, be not affectionate: be not presumptuous or severe against them you may commandfl (Shannon 5n. 15; sig. C4r-v). An array of texts on topics such as mela ncholia, pedagogy, and civil conduct also draws on Plutarch™s discussion of frank sp eech, most notably the analogy of the parrhsiastes as physician. Robert Burton, in his exhaustive 1621 compilation, The Anatomy of Melancholy , observes that frank speech is like a medicine th at tempers the fiheart-eating passionsfl of the other. According to Burton, fiwhen the patient himself is not able to resist or overcome these heart-eating passions, his friends or Physician must be ready to s upply that which is wantingfl (472-3). William Kempe, in his 1588 The education of children in learning , applies the tactics of the parrhsiastes in friendship to the pedagogue in the classroom, noting that: [to] allure Schollars to vertue, and to drive them from vice, which, as Plutarch counselleth, must be used by turne, some time to the one, and sometime to the other, after the fashion of a loving nurse, who when she hath made her child weepe for his fault, giueth him the teat to still him againe: which resembleth also the discretion of the cunni ng Physician, that temperet h his bitter medicines with sweete and pleasant drinke. (sig. D3v) Stephen Gosson likewise draws on this familiar analogy in his 1579 The Ephemerides of Phialo , most notably, in his discussion of the fimethod which [on]e ought to follo w that desireth to 170 rebuke his freend, when he seeth him swarve , without kindling his cholerfl (sig. C4r). 155 Like the advice dispensed by Plutarch, and repeatedly stressed in the aforementioned texts, Gosson contends that the parrhsiastes can increase the likelihood that his reprobation will be received by his friend through the use of rhetoric, sp ecifically, fiby tempering thy speaches with commendationsfl : in making thy friend acquainted with his faulte, too use a shadowe, may bee done by tempring thy speaches with commendations. The Phisition is more desirous too cure his Patient by sleepe, then by Rubarbe– So shal it behooue thee in reforming thy friend, and purging the humo r whiche hurteth him most, too take away the bitternesse of thy Lozinge, with sweete Syrops, commending him for that he hath done wel, auoyding comparisons, bycause they are odious.fl (sig. C4r-v) While Gosson is keen to stress th at one not anger or fikindl[e] [t he] cholerfl of the other when speaking frankly, as I demonstrate in the next se ction, dramatic representations of frank speech, similar to the friendship materials quoted above , frequently contend th at anger is a vital component in attempts to teach the other to care for himself. However, as the previous sections on Foucault and Plutarch demonstrate, and which Kempe echoes in his advice to pedagogues, the parrhsiastes must employ a degree of tact and rhetoric when speaking frankly, that is, he must fitempereth his bitter medicines with sweete and pleasant drinke,fl if he wishes to convince the other to transform his moral being. The next s ection thus considers how Shakespeare™s tragedy presents frank speech, to reiterate a claim Foucau lt makes in his 1984 Collège lectures, as a form 155 See Mills, 192-196 for a discussion of this text as well as Gosson™s debt to Lyly. 171 of tactful fitruth-telling whose fi nal objective and constant concern [i]s to teach men to take care of themselves.fl King Lear and Tactful Antagonism While the language of Plutarch and Foucault previously discussed is generally absent from recent examinations of Shakespeare™s tr agedy, contemporary criticism tangentially echoes the general spirit of their theories of friendshi p, frankness, and caring for the self. Kenneth J.E. Graham, for instance, contends th at frankness or fiplainnessfl in Lear can be viewed from the perspective of justice as fithe pr inciple that permits the rediscove ry of ‚commonplace™ truths in corrupt and skeptical surroundingsfl (218). 156 While Graham refrains from an explicit discussion of parrhsia and the parrhsiastes, his emphasis on fiplainne ssfl of speech as the catalyst by which one fifinds new ways to perform the conviction of lovefl in this firediscoveryfl nonetheless resonates with Plutar ch and Foucault, particularly as regards conviction and conduct tethered to one™s speech as well as bond to the other (218). In a similar vein, and without explicit discussion of caring for the self, Enid Welsford and Jay Halio discuss how the play emphasizes developing a critical attitude to ward modes of life. For Halio this involves the play™s emphasis on the renaissance commonplace nosce teipsum (‚know thyself™) in order to underscore that fiKing Lear is first and foremost about self-knowledg efl (1). According to Welsford, the play™s incorporation of fifool li teraturefl conventions, most notably the fool as fian ‚all licensed™ critic 156 All citations of King Lear refer to the third Arden edition, which is a conflation of the quarto and folio versions of the play, particular ly Q1 of 1608 and F1 of 1623. For an overview of the idiosyncrasies of these texts, as well as the merit in considering Q and F as different authorial versions of Lear, see R.A. Foakes, fiThe Texts of King Lear,fl in Jay Halio Critical Essays on Shakespeare™s King Lear (G.K. Hall, 1996), 21-34. Also see Gary Taylor and Michael Warren The Division of the Kingdoms (Oxford, 1983). When warranted, I note how Q and F idiosyncrasies render diff erent interpretations. 172 who sees and speaks the real truth about the people around him,fl illuminates how Lear™s Fool functions as fia vehicle for a reasoned criticism of lifefl (103). In both Halio and Welsford, observations about the centrality of self-consci ousness and fiplainnessfl of speech and criticism resonate with Foucault and Plutarch™s empha sis on the bond between frank speech and other fihuman relationships,fl such as ficommunity life,fl fipublic life,fl and fiindividual personal relationships.fl It likewise unders cores Foucault™s observation, im plicit in Plutarch, that frank speech is a directive for the other to fichange his life,fl rather than simply his opinions or beliefs, by learning to care for the self. Criticism on the play also tangentially bro aches the import of tact in friendship, most notably, in terms of admonishment and disguise. Wendy Olmsted reads King Lear as a text that addresses how to admonish a friend, and, perhaps more important, the lengths to which one may go, regardless of the danger or moral dilemma, in maintaining an ethical bond to the other. According to this reading, the play fidramatizes the costs of losing the space where friends speak freelyfl (181). Not only does this entail a liter al loss of friendship, as evinced through Lear™s severing of his relationship with Kent or sudde n departure of the Fool, but it also illuminates how friendship, when under duress, is frequen tly compromised in order to paradoxically maintain it. The exemplum in King Lear, according to Olmsted, is the disguised Kent, who as Caius, fireshapes friendship as a social instrume nt in order to move towards virtuous friendshipfl (182). Michael Warren, in his essay on the dramatic fifunctionfl of Kent in Q and F versions of the play, also notes how his disg uise is an emblem or fipower ful image of love, loyalty, and fidelityfl to the choleric Lear (61). Warren likewise contends that Kent™s disguise serves an instrumental purpose insofar as it provides him with further opportunities to try and convince Lear to curtail his passion, or, echoing the F ool, it provides fithe mean s by which the dog Truth 173 can avoid going to the kennel in the vicinity of Learfl (61). 157 However, as Warren astutely observes, an emphasis on Kent™s disguise in both ve rsions diminishes as the play progresses, and greater attention is once more devoted to his frankness. Indeed, Warren contends that fiKent is no longer [portrayed as] interesting for what he doe s so much as for what he saysfl (63). As I demonstrate in the following section on the numerous parrhsiastes in King Lear, with the exception of Cordelia, whose filov e™s / More ponderous than [her ] tongue,fl the play presents parrhsia as a combination of tact and frankness (1.1.78). The tekhne of frank speech in Shakespeare™s tragedy encompasses both verbal a nd visual realms, and while emphasis is placed on the import of disguise, equal, if not greater, attenti on is devoted to the ve rbal rhetoric of the parrhsiastes. Echoing Plutarch and Foucault, King Lear presents a common concern of the parrhsiastes: tactful antagonizing of the other in order to become self-conscious and critical. While this is met with mixed results in the play, as evinced by the tragic events of the dénouement, an emphasis is nonetheless attached to the import of frank speech and caring for the self. Indeed, to quote Edgar, the tragic outcome that befalls Lear underscores that by striving to fi[s]peak what we feel, not what we ought to sa y,fl one learns to minimize suffering and reign in unruly passion, so that, unlike Lear, fi[t]he olde st [who] hath borne most; we that are young / Shall never see so muchfl (5.3.323-325). However, this is not to suggest that to fi[s]peak what [one] feel[s]fl is synonymous with unimpeded speech, that is, the ficha tteringfl that Foucault aligns with the fipejorative sensefl of parrhsia, since this can potentially be just as destructive as 157 See 1.4.109. Scholars have long noted how Kent™s faithfulness and loyalty to Lear manifests in the name of his adopted persona, Ca ius, as an obvious reference to John Caius, author of De canibus Britannicis, a late-sixteenth century treatise on dogs translated by Abraham Fleming in 1576 as Of Englishe dogges. For a discussion of Kent™s ‚dog-like™ faithfulness,. 174 speaking fiwhat [one] ought to sa y;fl rather, it is to ground candid speech and fiwha t we feelfl in ethos of deliberation, action, and tact. 158 Added to this emphasis on the influe nce of one™s spe ech on others in King Lear is an examination of the murky territo ry of friendship, most notably its overlap with other social relationships such as kinship, se rvice relations, and political subjects. Holla nd, in his prefatory commentary to Plutarch™s essay on flattery, contends that the Greek philosopher is essentially interested in the effect of speech on another™s ethos: fifor that our nature is proud and blind withall, having the need of good frie nds to guide and direct it, he [P lutarch] describeth with what maner the eie and eare we ought to see and heare t hose that procure our goodfl (sig. G7v). As the division scene suggests, Lear™s vanity and pride encourages a blindness to the frank counsel of Cordelia and Kent and his fieie and earefl prefer ence for the flagrant sycophancy of Regan and Goneril. However, in addition to an emphasis on the figli b and oily artfl of flattery in the opening scene, an emphasis on frank counsel also suggests that friendship is inextricably intertwined with an array of social relations (1.1.226). The stag ing of frank counsel in this scene exploits Plutarch™s image of the friend who speaks out of duty in order to bring attention to the other™s fimisgovernment of himselfefl by aligning it with the dutiful subject (K ent and Cordelia) who speaks frankly to his or her sovere ign in order that he learn to ru le better, or th e dutiful daughter (Cordelia) who speaks to her father in order that he learn to be a better parent (sig. K1v). In addition, this multivalent staging of duties presen ts a series of ethical situations for the 158 See R.A. Foakes, Hamlet Versus Lear: Cultural Politics and Shakespeare™s Art (Cambridge, 1993), 213-14. 175 spectator/reader that drive home a similar point; namely, the import of cultivating an inward ethos and conscience that manifests in outward ac tion and speech. It likewise sets the state for the political and social dimensions of frie ndship explored throughout the play by bringing attention to the heterogeneous function of friendship (640). A focus on the self-consciousness and fra nk speech of Cordelia and Kent not only illuminates how friendship is grounded in an ethics of responsibility (that is, what Derrida refers to as the present and future ficommitmentfl unde rpinning friendship where one is obliged to ‚fianswer for,™ ‚answer to,™ [and] ‚answer before™ ...a moral, legal, or political communityfl), but more importantly, it addresses the issue of wh ether daughters and subjects can be considered ‚friends™ and therefore be releva nt to categories like parrhesia w ithin friendship discourse (637- 38). 159 A central feature of King Lear is its contestation of friends hip as a purely affective and apolitical bond between two priv ate persons. This is readily acc omplished, as Olmsted notes in her discussion of instrumentality and disguise in King Lear, by the play figoing beyond Cicero [and] Plutarch–to produce a sear ching inquiry into the intersection (or lack of it) between Ciceronian virtuous friendship and social efficacyfl (184). Indeed, Olmsted points to the valence of the term in the play: for Edgar, ‚friend™ refers to fihis allies and helpmatesfl; Gloucester uses it in deference to strangers, such as the Old Ma n and Casius, to signify figood will but nothing morefl; and Albany uses the word ‚friend™, simila r to Edgar, to fiinclude family members and 159 According to Derrida, fi[t]hese three moda lities are no juxtaposable; they envelop and imply each other. One answers for , for oneself or for something (for someone, for an action, for a thought, for a discourse), before, before another, a community of others, an institution, a tribunal, a law. And always one answers for, or before , by answering first tofl (638). 176 alliesfl (185). 160 Lawrence Stone, in his magisterial tome on kinship in early modern England, also notes how the term ‚friend™ frequently refers to fia loved one,fl particularly when fi[u]sed in the singular,fl as well as, when used in the plur al, fito someone who could help one on in life, with whom one could safely do business, or upo n whom one was in some way dependentfl (97). This versatility of friendship discourse in the play, which ranges from political associates to the polite greeting of st rangers to parent-child as well as master-servant relations, exploits the broad adaptability of the category ‚friend(s)™ dur ing the period. Indeed, added to the contestation of friendship is a contestation of the friend as a coherent and si ngular social identity separate from an array of other roles. In terms of cont esting friendship and the friend as a singular social identity that is private and apolitical, the play, to appl y Shannon™s shrewd reading of The Winter™s Tale to the current discussion, portrays figures such as Cordelia, Kent, and, to an extent, the Fool, as fia mingling of politi cal and personal relations,–two ro les (counselor and friend) in one person rather than one role refracting betwee n twofl (204). Such a fracturing of friendship in the play mirrors the network of embedded relations widely enco mpassed by friendship discourse during the era. Indeed, Bray contends that ki nship, broadly conceived during the period as a relation based on more than blood or marriage, such fihouseholdsfl, fifraternities and trade guildsfl, fihouses of callfl occupied by iterant ar tisans and actors, fiadopti onfl, and lastly, fithe movement of adolescents betw een families to act as servants in other households,–readily 160 See (4.5.2.44-46; 4.1.15; 2.2.13; 3.4.149; 5.3.276-78). One may find resonances of Olmsted™s claim in Bray, particularly his em phasis on the public and private functions of friendship. Among the former, he includes the pub lic use and consumption of the rhetoric and countenance of friendship as well as public acknowledgment of the friend transforms the body into a gift. See Bray, chapter two. 177 overlapped and created the web of obligations and friendship that held the soci ety of England togetherfl (105). Shakespeare™s King Lear has much to say about frank speech and the formation of one™s ethical being at the center of caring for the self. Aside from its central parrh siastae, Cordelia, Kent, and the Fool, Shakespeare uses minor ch aracters, most notably Cornwall™s servant and Lear™s knight, to underscore frank speech and its relation to one™s ethos.161 As the division of the kingdom in the opening scene demonstrates, Le ar™s vainglory and penc hant for flattery set the tragic events of the play in motion and hinder his devel opment of self-knowledge. Lear™s preface to his daughters before the di vision invites some of the traged y™s earliest, if not greatest, instances of flattery: fiWhich of you shall we say doth love us mo st, / That we our largest bounty may extend / Where nature doth with merit chal lengefl (1.1.51-53). Lear™s offering the filargest bounty,fl or parcel of his kingdom, to the daughter who can, as Cordelia candidly observes, fiheave / [their] heart into [their] mouth,fl and fisay [who] love [him] most,fl encourages the flattery of Goneril and Regan that immediately follows (1.1.91-92). His vanity likewise gestures toward a self-love predicated on conceit and pl easure in contrast to the ethical self-love, discussed in the previous chapte r, perceived as increasing self- knowledge and the ab ility to care for the self. Indeed, Lear™s vanity stokes his choler and obscures the practice of nosce teipsum that early modern humanists envision as vital to the care of the self. 162 Vanity not only causes 161 See 3.7.71-81; 4.2.74-79; and, 1.4.49-64. 162 See1.1.294-95: fi™Tis the infirmity of his age, yet he hath ever but slenderly known himself.fl Also see the introduc tion of my dissertation for Nosce teipsum in early modern literature and humanist thought as well as its relation to the care of the self. 178 dissonance between how Lear exp ects to be treated by his daught ers and how they treat him, which he envisions as a literal forgetting of the se lf (fiWho is it that can tell me who I am?fl), but it also produces extreme choler that limits his abi lity for self-reflection and care Œ that is, vanity creates a fitempest in [Lear™s] mind / [that] doth from [his] sense take all feeling elsefl (1.4.221; 3.4.12-13). The figure of the parrhsiastes also fuels Lear™s choler in the opening scene and, as the play progresses, contributes to the limited grow th of his self-consciousness. While Goneril and Regan use flattery to exploit Lear ™s vanity during the division of the kingdom, Cordelia and Kent deploy frank speech to achieve different ends. For Cordelia, parrhsia reverberates with the speech act characterized by Foucault as fireleased fr om the rules of rhetorical procedure,fl insofar as she gives a frank account of her inwardness to Lear and speaks out of duty to her conscience rather than duty to the rhetorical situation crea ted by her father and to which her sisters eagerly respond. Indeed, Cordelia™s earliest aside, where she asks herself, fiWha t shall Cordelia speak? Love, and be silent,fl responds to Goneril™s bomb astic proclamations that love renders speech ineffectual: fiSir, I do love you more than word can wield the / matter–A love that makes breath poor and speech unablefl (1.1.54-62). 163 Her second aside is likewise an interior response to Regan™s sycophancy where Cordelia again affirm s that her love outweighs the flattery and rhetoric of her sisters: fimy love™s / More ponderous than my tonguefl (1.1.77-78). These reflections ultimately give way to the succinct response of Cordelia to Lear™s command to fi[s]peakfl adulations in exchange for the fimore opulentfl portion of his kingdom: 163 See James E. Hirsh, Shakespeare and the History of Soliloquies (Fairleigh Dickinson, 2003), 22. Hirsh provides a nice overview of asides in fitheatrical historyfl as well as Shakespeare. 179 Cordelia: Nothing, my lord. Lear: Nothing? Cordelia: Nothing. Lear: How, nothing will come of nothing. Speak again. Cordelia: Unhappy that I am, I cannot heave My heart into my mout h. I love your majesty According to my bond, no more no less. (1.1.87-93) Cordelia™s courage to speak to L ear contrarily, as evinced by his astonished reply of fiNothing?,fl as well as her multiple refusals to obey his command to fi[s]peak againfl and fi[m]end her speech a little, / Lest [s]he may mar [he]r fortunes,fl underscores how parrhsia operates as a specific relationship to the self (1.1.87-94). Likewise, her claim to filove your majesty / According to my bond, no more no lessfl, reiterates the versatility, as previously noted, of friendship discourse. As parrhsiastes, Cordelia™s fiplainnessfl of speech es chews the figlib and oily artfl due to her integrity and commitment to fia moral duty in stead of self-interest or moral apathy,fl to reiterate a remark Foucault makes in his Berkeley lectures (1.1.30). While Cordelia never gives a full account of why she speaks frankly, that is, why she ficannot heave / [her] heart into [her] mouthfl like Goneril and Regan, her motivation derives mostly from the import she attaches to an ethos where speech and action align. Through her emphasis on truthful action and speech, Cordelia displays what Foucault terms a ficommitment to a bondfl between ficonductfl and speech, or Plutarch, fiuniforme equali tie in all intentions and actions .fl Indeed, one of the clearest reasons she gives Lear for why sh e speaks frankly is virtue and loyalty Œ she ch aracterizes her fiheartfl as fiSo young, my lord, and true,fl to which Lear replies that fitru th then be thy dowerfl 180 (1.1.108-09). 164 France also suggests that Cordelia™s frank speech is a virtue, since he, unlike Burgundy, agrees to take her hand and her fiv irtues–seize uponfl after being impressed by her exchange with Lear (1.1.254). Cordelia™s insisten ce that she speaks frankly because fisince what I well intend, / I™ll do™t before I speak,fl further limns the source of her courage as parrh siastes, as does her remark that fi[a] still soliciting eye and such a tongue [as Goneril and Regan] / That I am glad I have notfl (1.1.227-233). In contrast to Goneril and Regan, who flatter Lear with filarge speechesfl that later prove to be meaningless, Co rdelia places great import on speech and action. An emphasis on aligning one™s bios and logos, to reiterate Foucault and Plutarch™s general claim about the parrhesiastes , is restated by the banished Kent as he exits the throne room. In a manner reminiscent of Cordelia, Kent proclaims to Regan and Goneril: fiAnd your large speeches may / your deeds approve, / That good effects may spring from words of lovefl (1.1.184-6). Whereas Cordelia speaks frankly to Lear in order to shape the re lationship she has with herself, namely, her ethos or what France refers to as the fivirtuesfl which make her fimost rich being poor,fl Kent™s candid speech arises prim arily from his relationship with Lear (1.1.252.54). This is not to suggest that Kent, as parrhsiastes , is detached from his ethos; rather, it is to underscore that Kent speaks frankl y in hopes that it will convin ce Lear to reflect on his own actions and curtail his folly and rashness. In short, Kent employs parrhsia so that Lear will learn to take care of himself. In this instance, parrh sia is less about the conscience or ethos of the speaker Œ that is, what Fou cault characterizes as a fispecific relationship to [the] selffl Œ and more about the speaker™s concern for the other™s in terior and moral being Œ that is, what Plutarch 164 France™s earlier exchange with Burgundy cements this reading. See 1.1.214-224 and 1.1.237-243. 181 envisions as the fundamental charac teristic of frank speech to fiassi steth evermore the better part [of the other™s ethos], in giving counsell and comfort.fl Kent™s status as a different kind of parrhsiastes, more akin to a counselor than one who objects because they perceive their moral being and conscience compromised, is evident through the language of rebuke and insistence that Lear reflect on his ethos. Regardless of this distinction, however, Kent, like Co rdelia, reminds the spectator/r eader that without friends who speak boldly and bluntly, albeit with a degree of t act, society rapidly unravels. In a world such as Lear™s, where ethical subjects are replaced w ith calculating and sycopha ntic individuals who prioritize personal gain over community cohesion, th ere is an even greater need, to return to Edgar™s closing remark, to fi[s]peak what we f eel, not what we ought to sayfl. Moreover, Kent, like the other parrhesiastes, serves as a reminder, to quote Lochman and Hutson, fithat in tyranny, where friends cannot speak freely, friendship cannot existfl (24). The versatility of friendship discourse in the play, particularly as regards the fimingling of political and personal relationsfl, is readily apparent through Cordel ia and Kent™s stress on fidutyfl (1.1.97). Both likewise demonstrate the multivalen ce of friendship discourse, most notably its embeddedness in an array of social relations, by speaking from multiple positions as daughter, servant, subject, and friend. Cordelia and Kent ™s relationships with Lear, to quote Bray™s discussion of the imbrication of fivoluntary ki nshipfl with early mode rn friendship discourse, illuminate how fi[t]he outline of these friendships Œ a friendship that signified a kinship Œ unlocks the larger whole of which their friendship s were perceived to be a partfl (104). While both Cordelia and Kent speak frankly to Lear from several positions or fidut[ies]fl Œ Cordelia from her fidut[ies]fl as a daughter subject and Kent from his fidut[ies]fl as a subject, servant, and friend Œ it is Kent who advises Lear to change his firelation to others 182 and–[him]self,fl to quote Foucault (1.1.148). 165 Likewise, it is Kent who recognizes, to reiterate Plutarch, how the fitrue friend doing alwa ies that which his dutie requireth, many times pleaseth, as often againe he is disp leasantfl in his speech to the other. Kent™s initial attempts to be a measured voice of reason embody the apology for parrhsia Colclough sees as endemic to the era, and Plutarch envisions as frequently necessa ry for the fielegancie and civilitiefl of effective frank speech. It is only after Lear™s fuming dismissa l of Kent™s advice to temper his self-love and refrain from royal divestment that the Earl is moved to speak bluntly and boldly. Kent first attempts to gingerly disrupt Le ar™s anger with the composed fiGood my liege,fl and when Lear rejects this effort to challenge his self-love with the forceful fiCome not between the dragon and his wrath!,fl Kent tries to preface his admonishme nt by noting a history of steadfast obedience and deference: fiRoyal Lear, / Whom I have ever honoured as my king, / L oved as my father, as my master followed, / As my great patron thought on in my prayers Œfl (1.1.122-123; 1.1.140- 143). Lear™s interruption a nd warning to Kent to fimake from the shaftfl of his anger, lest he be injured politically or physically, provides the impetus for the blunt and fiunmannerlyfl speech of Kent: Let it fall rather, though the fork invade 165 For valence of the term ‚friend™ in earl y modern England, see Olmstead, fiPlainnessfl 184. Olmstead, quoting Lawrence Stone, notes duri ng the period fi[t]he category of friends included relatives, members of the household ‚such as a steward, chaplin or tutor, or a neighbor; or a political associate sharing a common part y affiliation.fl Also see Thomas MacFaul, Male Friendship in Shakespeare and His Contemporaries (Cambridge, 2007). Mich ael Neill notes a similar valence surrounding the term ‚service™ and ‚servant.™ As Neill observes, fi‚service™ in the early modern period was a remarkably inclusive c oncept, embracing in its most elastic definition virtually all forms of social relationship Œ since even the bonds between husbands and wives, parents and children involved the same principles of authority and obedience.fl See Neill 162 as well as David Schalkwyk, Shakespeare, Love and Service (Cambridge, 2008). 183 The region of my heart: be Kent unmannerly When Lear is mad. What wouldst thou do, old man? Think™st thou that duty shall have dread to speak, When power to flattery bows? To plainness honour™s bound When majesty falls to folly. Reserve thy state, And in thy best consideration check This hideous rashness. (1.1.145-152) Kent™s contention that he has an obligation to dispense with fielegan cie and civilitiefl and be fiunmannerly / When Lear is madfl and has fa ltered in caring for the self and others, frames the speech where all decorum is immediately dispat ched. Indeed, he boldly addresses Lear as an inferior through his use of fithou,fl which as Ge raldine Byrne and numer ous scholars note, is often fia term of reproachfl during the period as well as a marker of social distance and superiority when invoked by the speaker (xxxi). 166 Kent uses fithoufl and the determiner fithyfl no less than four times in this speech, and an additional dozen times across the remainder of the exchange in the first Act, to emphasize his mora l superiority and highlight the intimacy between the king and his Earl. Unlike Lear , whose mind is clouded by narc issism and the sycophancy of 166 For discussions of the thou/you distinction in early modern English culture, see Penelope Freedman, Power and Passion in Shakespeare™s Pronouns (Ashgate, 2007). Also see Terry Walker, Thou and You in Early Modern English Dialogues (John Benjamins, 2007). Walker notes that fithose of greater status would tend to address those of lesser status as THOU, but receive YOU. In addition, the greater the social distance and/or formality, the greater the likelihood that You would be used, while strong emotion is said to encourage the use of THOUfl (2). 184 Goneril and Regan, Kent sees with clarity the error of divestme nt and anger with Cordelia for her honesty. Abiding by Plutarch™s advice that the parrhsiastes must firoote out th[e] self-love and overweeningfl in the other, Kent observes the problems arising from instances where fipower to flattery bows,fl particularly, how the narcissism ru ling over Lear causes his fimajesty [to] fall to folly.fl Moreover, sycophancy and Lear™s fihide ous rashnessfl create th e characteristic that Plutarch envisions as the hallm ark of flattery: fiignoran[ce] of our selves and wilful[l] blind[ness]fl to our ethos. Indeed, Kent™s rhetorical questions to Lear attempt to elucidate why he speaks candidly and simultaneously generate se lf-consciousness in hi s fiking,fl fifather,fl fimaster,fl and fipatron.fl Asking L ear, fi[w]hat wouldst thou do, old ma n?fl if self-lov e drives the other to fimad[ness],fl fifolly,fl and firashness,fl Kent makes a case for the necessity of being fiunmannerlyfl in speech. He likewise clarifies th at he does not shirk from fiduty [nor]–have dread to speakfl candidly when L ear abdicates his responsibilities; rather, Kent is fito plainness honour™s / boundfl as a subject and friend in such a situation. In this brief passage, Kent embodies the stereotypical parrhsiastes who, in the name of fiethi cal friendship– gives loving and frank advice in the name of the heare r™s good,fl as Shannon observes of early modern friendship discourse (51). His pos ition as a subject and servant likewise attests to the period perception that friendship encompasses an array of social relations beyond the affective, singular, and apolitical friend. In one respect, this is ap parent through Kent part icipation in friendship discourse, most notably his use of a speech act not only accorded preeminence among the fiArticles, precepts, or statutes of the lawe of Amitiefl discussed by the numerous occasional pamphlets, cited above, as well as Plutarch, Montaigne, and Ci cero. Perhaps more importantly, however, is Kent™s direct addres s to his sovereign, a clear and po litical act that both commixes 185 his social fidut[ies]fl as subject, servant, and frie nd and ruptures the supposed private, affective, and apolitical space occupied by the friend. Likewise, Kent™s participation as a subject and servant in friendship discourse reiterates the claim made through this section, and which I elaborate in the concluding discussion of the cons cience and its relation to earthly and heavenly authority, that the friend occupi es a political space where self-fashioning occurs. Indeed, Kent perfectly embodies Shannon™s as tute observation that early modern friendship discourse, understood broadly, articulates the filaw of the subject Œ but not of his subor dinationfl (6). Not only does Kent readily apply this filawfl to his ow n conduct, particularly as a friendly counselor and servant, but perhaps more impo rtant, to his insistence that Lear, his sovereign, reform his ethos through critical self-reflection. In attempting to correct Lear™s fimisgovern ment of [the] selfe,fl Kent repeatedly encourages critical self-refl ection. Echoing the import Plutarch attaches to the fiprecept– Know thyselfe ,fl most notably as an anodyne to th e fidece[ption]–and–ignoran[ce] of the good and evill thingsfl arising from self-love, Shakespeare invokes the fiesteeme[d] oraclefl Apollo: Kent: See better, Lear, and let me still remain / The true blank of thine eye. Lear: Now by Apollo Œ Kent: Now by Apollo, King, Thou swear™st thy gods in vain (1.1.159-161) While Lear invokes Apollo, the god of archery, in order to conti nue the image, introduced a few lines earlier, of his anger as a fibow that is bent and drawn,fl Ke nt turns the invoc ation on its head to refer to Apollo as the oracle fiwhich comm andoth us [t]o know our selves,fl as Plutarch contends in his essay. In this way, Kent empha sizes how Lear does not fisee betterfl due to his self-love and choler, nor is he willing to accept th e advice of his loyal Ea rl, fithe true blank of 186 thine eye;fl rather, Lear fiswea r™st thy gods in vainfl since his anger emanates from folly not wisdom and narcissism not ethical self-regard . Shakespeare further underscores how Lear™s choler obscures self-knowledge and fosters firashnessfl and fifollyfl toward Kent by the sovereign™s cry of fiO vassal! Miscreant!fl (1.1.162). This res ponse, coupled with Albany and Cornwall™s fiDear sir, forbear!,fl as well as Kent ™s defiant fiDo, kill thy physician,fl suggests that Lear™s reaction to frank speech and sound advice is bodily violence rather than the patience accorded to the supposed wise and benevolent ruler (1.1.163-65). 167 Indeed, Lear™s choler is depicted in this instance as so extreme that he foolishly perceives his servant as a firecreant,fl or fione who breaks faithfl as Foakes notes, rather than a trustworthy friend, acting in a manner synonymous with a counselor or figood Physician and Chirurgianfl, who seeks to check his folly and preserve his well-being (1.1.168; 1.1.168n.). The analogy of the parrhsiastes as an fiexpert a nd skilfull Physitionfl is invoked through Kent™s characterization in this exchange. Kent™s statement of fiD o, kill thy physician, and thy fee bestow / Upon the foul disease,fl cl early envisions Lear™s self-love as an illness that can best be cured through frank speech (1.1.64-65). It likewise calls attention to the import of tact that Plutarch and Foucault envision as necessary to ac hieve the restorative qua lities of frank speech. As Plutarch contends, it is vital that the friend know how to skillfully use fia sharpe rebuke, as–some bitter or tart medicine, to save or p[r] eserve the life of his patient.fl However, Kent™s failure to convince Lear to temper his choler, reflect on his actions, and ultimately his relationship with himself Œ that is , to take care of himself Œ sugge sts the centrality of rhetorical 167 As Foakes observes, fistage tradition suggestsfl Albany and Cornwall™s utterance refer to action that fiprevent[s] Lear here from draw ing his sword or doing violence to Kent.fl See Arden edition 169. Also see Bratton 73 and Rosenberg 72. 187 tact and skill needed for the friend™s frank speech to be effective. Indeed, this need can be found in the visual rhetoric that Ke nt and Edgar adopt through their personas of Old Tom and Caius, which to a certain degree, prove to be of greater assistance in teaching Lear and Gloucester to care for themselves, although Kent appears to be more successful in encouraging self-reflection in Lear than Edgar in his venture to aid hi s father. As Edgar later observes in an aside commenting on his father™s suicide attempt, fiWhy I do trifle thus with his despair / Is done to cure itfl (4.6.33-34). Undoubtedly gr otesque, and to an extent, comi cal, there is a degree of truth to Edgar™s statement and actions in feigning to lead Gl oucester to his death; often, the surest way to help the other improve their ethos is through skillful antagonism. However, any success is short lived given Gloucester™s later comment in this scene on be ing robbed of his sovereignty through an inability fi[t]o end [him]self by deathfl (4.6.61). His later request for Oswald to kill him by filet[ting] thy friendly hand / Put strength enough tofl the sword fi[t]hat must destroyfl Gloucester, as well as his lament to Edgar th at fia man may rot even he refl during Cordelia™s failed invasion, suggests that too much visual deception, while appearing closely synonymous with tactful antagonism, is in no way a sure substitute (4.6.226-227; 5.2.8). While Kent and Edgar, with the help of thei r disguises, prove fair ly adept at helping others become self-conscious, alth ough, as noted above, this adeptn ess is in no way as sufficient as their speech, the Fool is one of the more interesting figures of tactful antagonism in King Lear. Indeed, the Fool, perhaps more than the othe r characters, helps Lear gain a limited degree of self-consciousness by deliberating angering hi m. The Fool likewise complicates the play™s depiction of frank and fashioned speech as mutu ally exclusive speech acts through his word play and numerous jests, the latter almo st always at Lear™s expense. 188 On the surface, King Lear appears to position the fashioned speech of the flatterer in opposition to the frank speech of the parrhesiastes. However, on closer examination, the distinction between crafted and candid speech colla pses, particularly when characters encourage the other to care for the self. This is not to claim that characters such as Cordelia, Kent, or Edgar use fithat glib and oily artfl of flattery. As pr eviously demonstrated, Cordelia and Kent fail to convince Lear to reflect on his ethos primarily because they speak without the tact and urbanity that Plutarch and Foucault align with the parrhesiastes ; that is, they speak too bluntly and do not necessarily employ a tekhne of frank speech, although Kent st rives to encourage reflection through his deliberate and antagonistic questions. As I have suggest ed, however, Kent and, to an extent, Edgar, prove to be more successful in th eir efforts once they begin to fashion both their appearance and speech. Likewise, as Kent notes in his reentry as Caius, the fashioning of oneself, unlike flattery, but in a manner similar to tactful antagonism, is undertaken so as to assist the other in improving his moral being: If but as well I other accents borrow That can my speech diffuse, my good intent May carry through itself to that full issue For which I razed my likeness. Now, banished Kent, If thou canst serve where thou dost stand condemned So may it come thy master whom thou lov™st Shall find thee full of labours. (1.4.1-7) Although the Fool does not literally disgui se himself and draw on fiother accentsfl or firaze [his] likeness,fl he nonetheless proves to be fifull of laboursfl and figood intentfl for his fimasterfl Lear. Steeped in a tradition of playful, yet insightful, ambiguity of the fool common to 189 many of Shakespeare™s plays, the Fool uses fif orms of folly [to] variously inspire [and] confoundfl Lear to reflect on his ethos, as Robert H. Bell characterizes the general function of the figure in Shakespearean tragedies (4). Regardless of outlining for Kent the import of fashioning speech and action to please Lear Œ fian thou canst not smile as the wind sits, thou™lt catch cold shortlyfl Œ the Fool tactfully antagonizes his finun clefl through a mixture of allusion, clever word play, and frank speech (1.4.99-100; 1.4.104). For instance, in one of their earlier interactions, the Fool alludes to Lear™s divestment as an act of folly that rivals a ny of his own: fiIf I gave them all my living [i.e., the Fool™s hypothe tical two daughters], I™d keep my coxcombs myself. There™s mine; beg another of thy daughtersfl (1.4.106-7). Lear™s threatening response to fiTake heed, sirrah, the whip,fl is followed by the Fool™s obs ervation that Lear does not tolerate counsel counter to his vainglory and pomp osity (1.4.108). In an allusion to Lear™s banishment of Kent and Cordelia for candidly speaking their conscience, as well as rewardin g Regan and Goneril for their flattery, the Fool also envisions himself as a parrhsiastes: fiTruth™s a dog that must to kennel; he must be whipped out, when the Lady Brach [i.e., bitch] may stand by the fire and stinkfl (1.4.109-10). Later in the scene, the Fool again suggests his propensity for speaking the truth and inability to flatter Lear: Fool: Prithee, nuncle, keep a schoolmaster that can teach thy fool to lie; I would fain learn to lie. Lear: An you lie, sirrah, we™ll have you whipped. Fool: I marvel what kin thou and thy daughter s are. They™ll have me whipped for speaking true, thou™lt have me whipped for lying, and sometimes I am whipped for holding my piece. I had rather be any kind o™thing than a fool, and yet I would 190 not be thee, nuncle. Thou ha st pared thy wit o™both si des and left nothing i™the middle. (1.4.170-78) As a fipestilent gall tofl Lear, the Fool conti nually employs jest and song to tactfully anger his finunclefl in hopes of aiding him to learn to care for the self. 168 Indeed, Lear™s plea for someone to fitell me who I am,fl is roundly an swered by the Fool, w ho readily identifies as fiLear™s shadowfl (1.4.221-22). However, in claiming to be fiLear™s shadow,fl the Fool does not simply claim to be Lear™s alter ego, fithat is, another himself,fl to quote Dorke, although he is making the claim that Lear too is a fool (Dorke sig. B2r). Nor does he claim to mirror Lear in a manner similar to that of the sycophant who Plutarch condemns: fiI have no neede of such a friend, that will alter as I doe, and follow me ever y way (for my shadow can do that much better) I had rather have one that with me will foll ow the truth, & judge according to it and not otherwisefl (sig. H3r). Rather, the Fool underscore s his bond to Lear, to whom he is tethered like a shadow until his sudden disappear ance, and through the us e of rhetoric and jest he attempts to help Lear fifollow the truth & judge according to it and not otherwise.fl Indeed, the Fool later admits this bond to Kent. Lear™s fair-weather fr iends fiWill pack when it begins to rain, / And leave thee in the storm; / But I will tarry, the f ool will stay, / And let the wise man fly: / The knave turns fool that runs away, / The fool no knave perdyfl (2.2.269-74). However, the Fool™s sudden disappearance in Act 3 suggests that pe rhaps he too is a fai r-weather friend who must leave when the fitempest in [Lear™s] mindfl shows no sign of abating or when his finunclefl proves unwilling to reflect and work on his ethos. 168 Also see 1.4.134-169 and 1.4.180-90. 191 As the play progresses, Lear gains limited empathy, as well as brief moments of insight into the errors resulting from his folly, due to the Fool. A key moment in Lear beginning to meditate on the need to care for himself, particularly, how his ethos and conscience are tethered to the just treatment of others, occurs afte r much antagonizing by the Fool and the feigned concern of Goneril. As Lear begins to reflect on the fifollyfl of dispossessing Cordelia, he observes: O, most small fault, How ugly didst thou in Cordelia show, Which like an engine wrenched my frame of nature From the fixed place, drew from my heart all love And added to the gall. O Lear, Lear, Lear! [striking his head] Beat at this gate that let thy folly in And thy dear judgement out. (1.4.258-64) Although Lear still perceives Cord elia™s speaking truthfully as a fismall faultfl that fiugly didst–in Cordelia show,fl he nonetheless acknowledges what the Fool has been antagonizing him to long recognize: that hi s choler, self-conceitedness, and figallfl caused him to rush to judgment and act in fifolly.fl Lear ™s contention that his figall– /– let thy folly in / And thy dear judgement outfl readily affirms this acknowledgement. Later, he reiterates th is realization to the Fool through the simple, yet powerful, declarative, fiI was wrongfl (1.5.24). Lear™s limited empathy, along with his extremely limited self-consciousness, manifest at other moments. While on the heath, Lear meditate s on his guilty conscience, those fiClose pent- up guilts,fl and proclaims the need to recognize and come to terms with the damage wrought by his follies (3.2.57). Lear™s realization that he must acknowledge the injuries and those 192 fiundivulged crimes, / Unwhipped of justice,fl he has inflicted on others, particularly since his figuiltsfl breach and fiRive [the] concealing continen tsfl that comprise his conscience, point to an emerging sense of the need to care for the self (3.2.52-53; 3.2.58-59). I ndeed, Lear™s emerging perception that he needs to work on his ethos and fichange his life,fl particularly as regards fione™s relation to others, and one™s rela tion to oneself,fl is the hallmark of the caring for the self as discussed by Foucault and Plutarch. However, Lear™s recognition that his speech, conduct, and conscience must be more fully al igned is not altogether realize d, as demonstrated by the lines that immediately follow his call to probe his guilty conscience and ficry / These dreadful summoners gracefl (3.2.59). Indeed, regardless of the moment of inward clarity just experienced, Lear still perceives himself as fia man / Mo re sinned against than sinningfl (3.2.59-60). Even though Lear™s self-consciousness is se verely limited by self-l ove and choler, he partially displays empathy and the ability to care for others while on the heath. One such instance occurs when Lear, Kent, and the Fool find the hovel during the ficontentious stormfl (3.4.6). In a simple and quiet gesture that recognizes the needs of another, Lear insists that the Fool enter the hovel ahead of him. Despite the implied protests, L ear is resolved that the Fool go ahead of him: fiIn boy, go first. You houseless / poverty Œ / Nay, get thee in. I™ ll pray, and then I™ll sleepfl (3.4.26-27). Another instance of empathy occurs in the hovel when L ear encounters Edgar disguised as Poor Tom. Simulta neously insightful and problematic , Lear again proves capable of pity for another, although it is an empathy that he can only understand in relation to his own suffering. Indeed, as far as Lear is concerned, Poor Tom has be en reduced to fisuch a lowness [by] his unkind daughtersfl: fiDidst thou give all to thy two da ughters? And art thou come to this?fl (3.4.48-49; 3.4.70). 193 Any empathy or clarity on the need to care for the self and others garnered by Lear on the heath disappears as the play progresses. As demo nstrated by Lear™s imprisonment with Cordelia, the king falls back to his own ways of self-l ove and abdication of the suffering of others. Envisioning their imprisonment as joyous opport unity to rekindle their relationship, Lear proclaims to Cordelia: fiCome, let™s away to pr ison; / We two alone will sing like birds i™the cagefl (5.3.8-9). Lear™s refusal to acknowledge the suffering of Corde lia and the severity of their imprisonment is met by a further retreat inward Œ indeed, his speech is peppered with the ‚royal we.™ The tragic events of the end illuminate how car ing for the self is a lifelong practice that one must continually cultivate, rather than a si ngle and lasting moment of clarity fostered by another Œ indeed, frank speech may act as a catal yst, but it is no replacement for caring for the self. In many respects, this creates the greatest tragedy in the play give n Lear™s inability to sustain critical self-reflection, maintain his ethos, and be receptive to the speech of others. fi[T]he friend hath lost his friend / And th e best quarrels in the heat are cu rsed / By those that feel their sharpnessfl (5.3.56-58). Though Edmund speaks these words in reference to the recent civil war, and in order to buy his assassin time, an emphasis on the fisharpnessfl of the sword as well as poignancy of losing a fifriendfl resonates with Lear™s social forfeitures throughout the play, particularly those that arise fr om his fuming reaction to the frank speech of family, servants, and political allies. Indeed his loss of friends, understood widely to include both affective and political relationships (or fiachievedfl and fiascr ibedfl bonds), embodies the tragedy of Edmund™s words and the play in a double sense. On the on e hand, any self-consciousness Lear gained from the fiheatfl and fisharpnessfl of Cordelia, Kent/Casiu s, or the Fool™s frank speech is ephemeral and not fully fife[lt]fl, thus suggesting that their fiquarrelsfl were made in vain due to Lear™s vanity. 194 On the other hand, and recalling that friendship in cludes more than one party, the fisharpnessfl of the sword, like the fisharpe rebukefl discussed by Plutarch and Fou cault, is fife[lt]fl by the speaker and encourages self-awareness. In this instance, the loss of a fifriendfl th rough fiquarrelsfl that are ficursedfl by unfiltered antagonism both clarifies the need to balance fi[s]peaking what we feel, [partially with]–what we ought to sayfl. fiSpeak what we feelfl Throughout this chapter, an ex plicit concern has addresse d how the period, through the lens of friendship discourse and its emphasis on frank speech joined to action as well as rhetorical tact, perceives the way in which one™s conscience an d ethical identity manifests. Furthermore, the role of gender, both in rega rds to frank speech and early modern friendship discourse have barely been broached, and thus both merit examination. Toward the beginning of Foucault™s inaugural Berkeley lecture on parrhsia, a member of the audience inquires about the predominance of masculine pronouns in his description of frank speech. As Joseph Pearson, the editor of these lectures, not es, fi[r]esponding to a student™s question [about the absence of female pronouns], Foucault indicate[s] that the oppressed role of women in Greek society generally deprive them of the use of parrhsia (along with aliens, slaves, and children)fl (12, f.n. 4). Aside from Pearson™s gloss, F oucault has very little to say about the relation of gender to the practice of frank speech during his Berkeley and Collège lectures, although the work of Euri pides™ and the Christian Bible (t wo texts he discusses later in his lecture), offer numer ous examples of female parrhsiastae. 169 By the same token, the Tudor 169 See Fearless Speech , 34-35 and 74-75. 195 rhetorics discussed in this chapter virtually present parrhsia as exclusively a male concern. 170 In the rare instance that these period handbooks do include women as parrhsiastae, or those who speak frankly and with courag e, it is to underscore a conf ession of misconduct and plea for male forgiveness, rather than moral objection or conscientious resistance to authority. Such is the case with Abraham Fraunce, who in his 1588 Arcadian Rhetorike , cites as one fiexamplefl of filibertie of speechfl Queen Gynecia™s confession before Euarchus in Book 5 of Sidney™s Arcadia. 171 As the discussion of parrhsia in King Lear illustrated, however, early modern literature frequently depicts women using frank speech to vocalize moral resistance rather than to demonstrate the supposed fidegen era[cy]fl and fishamefl of th eir sex fostered by period conceptions of gender (Fraunce si g. E4v). In the case of drama tic characters, Shakespeare™s Cordelia, Constance, and Paulina serve as a few examples of ‚positive parrh sia,™ that is, they embody the ficourageous speechfl previously discusse d where speech is seen as an external manifestation of one™s moral conscience and ethos defiantly directed toward a supposed social 170 See Henry Peacham™s 1577 The Garden of Eloquence , sig. M2v-M3r, as well as sig. R1r in the 1593 edition. Also see George Puttenham™s 1589 Arte of English Poesie , sig. Y5r, and Thomas Wilson™s 1553 The Arte of Rhetorique, sig. Dd2v. 171 fiI therefore say to thee, o just Judge, that I, and onlie, I, was the worker of Basilius death: they were these hands that gave unto him that poisonous po tion, that hath brought death to him, and losse to Arcadia. It was I, and none but I, that hastned his aged yeares to an unnaturall end, and that have made all this people orphanes of their royal father: I am the subject that have killed my Prince: I am the wife that have murdered my husband: I am a degenerate women, an undoer of this Countrey, a shame of my childrenfl (sig. E4v). See The Countesse of Pembrokes Arcadia (John Windet, 1593), sig. Qq4v. Also see Katherine Duncan-Jones edition of The Old Arcadia (Oxford, 1985), 330. On the sincereity and truthfulness of Gynecia™s claim, see Colclough, 51-52. 196 superior. 172 To return to Edgar™s closing remarks, the need for the inhabitant s of Lear™s England to fi[s]peak what we feel, not wh at we ought to say,fl resonates wi th two core concerns addressed thus far in this project: self-knowledge and concord. To return to an issue broached in the intr oduction of my disserta tion, the necessity of concord across various social cla sses proves essential to early modern articulations of the social landscape of the commonwealth and friendship. Indeed, Ciceronian influenced accounts of friendship stress the need for fib ettersfl and fiinf[e]riour sfl to form friendshi ps absent of class- resentment; according to these accounts, friends s hould not be willfully blind to differences in status, however, they should also not be jealous or resentful, lest they sow social discord. As Cicero notes, fi[t]herfore as those whiche in fr eendeshippe be the betters in degree, ought to equall theim selves with their in f[e]riours, so ought inf[e]riours not to be greeved, if either in 172 While social rank, in many respects, provide s these women a privilege of speech not afforded to those of lesser rank (although characters such as Helena in All™s Well That Ends Well and Mary Frith in The Shoemaker™s Holiday complicate the extent of this exclusion), nevertheless, their actions lay claim to degrees of political subjecthood that could potentially be available to others Œ indeed, a ha llmark of frank speech is that it is speech from below. Female writers hailing from the gentry, such as Anne Askew, and those of the middling-sort, such as Rachel Speght, Isabella Whitney, and Aemilia Lanye r, also serve as instances of positive female parrhsia and, more broadly, fema le political subjecthood. See Elaine V. Beilin™s edition of The Examination of Anne Askew (Oxford, 1996). One must approach Askew™s Examination with trepidation, given that its publication by John Bale (1546), and later incorporation by John Foxe in his Book of Martyrs (1563), make it nearly impossible to separate their textual embellishments from Askew™s narrative . See Thomas S. Freemand and Sarah Elizabeth Wall, fiRacking the Body, Shaping the Text: The Account of Anne Askew in Foxe™s ‚Book of Martyrs™fl Renaissance Quarterly (Winter 2001): 1165-1196. Also see Barbara Kiefer Lewalski™s The Polemics and Poems of Rachel Speght (Oxford, 1996), 1-42. Speght™s A Mouzell for Melastomus (1617) and Certaine Quqeres to the Bayter of Women (1617) are two interesting examples of what I term ‚positive female parrhsia™. 197 witte, either fortune, either worship, their free ndes doe excede theimfl (Harrington sig. F6r). 173 In a similar manner, writings on the commonwea lth, particularly those that stress Christian charity or caritas , stress the need for concord between disp arate social hierarchies. For instance, Lever, drawing on the image of the flock and shepherds, where commoners are equated with fiChristes shepefl and fiofficers–[as] shepherds of the fold and stewardes,fl stresses a concord fostered by Christ and imbued w ith the power and aut hority of fiGoddes woorde :fl fiIs not everye Christen commonwealthe the folde of Christes shep e, the house of his fam ilye? Be not then all officers in a Christen commonwealthe named by G oddes woorde sheppeherdes of the fold, and stewardes of the familye of Chryste?fl (sig. C3 r). Regardless of this stress on concord across social hierachies, texts on the commonwealth like wise articulate an anxiet y about the potentially disastrous outcome if hierarchies were erased. Indeed, as briefly mentioned in the introduction, and which I shall now turn to in my final chapter on female caritas in the poetry of Aemilia Lanyer, a common concern in commonwealth texts centers on the danger when men fientending therby to make all alike, do utterly dest roy–the misticall body e of Christ–and the commonwealth,fl to quote Lever (sig. B4v). As I shall demonstrate in the final chapter, commonwealth texts also see ambition (taken in La nyer™s poetry to include both female and class parity), as a grave threat to the moral, social , and political stability of the commonwealth. As Lever notes, fiwhen as they hunt after the same immoderatly, not according to the rules of wisedome, they are counted ambitious, and pricked thereunto because they woulde be in the eyes of men gratious, not for any good they meane to the common weale.fl Thus, the next chapter explores some of the concer nsembedded in one of the more famous friendship proverbs 173 See Tiptoft, sig. C4r. 198 championed by Erasmus and others: fiAmong Friends all things should be commonfl (Dorke sig. A4v). 199 Chapter Four: Caritas and Feminine Ethos in the Salve Deus Rex Judæorum Introduction: fithere must nedes be divers me[m]bersfl Sir Thomas Elyot, in The boke named the governour , claims social subordination as the bedrock of a healthy and godly fiPublic Wealfl: [I]t is only a Public Weal, where, like as God, hath disposed the said influence of understanding, are also appointed degrees and places, according to the excellence thereof...which also impresseth a reverence and due obedience to the vulgar people or commonality, and without it that can be nore said, that there is a Public Weal, than it may be affi rmed, that a house without its proper and necessary ornaments, is well and sufficiently furnished. (1:7) 174 Drawing on the analogy of a well-ordered fihousefl fitted with fiproper and necessary ornamentsfl in their appropriate places, Elyot emphasizes the importance of the fidegrees and placesfl of social hierarchies, as well we the ce ntrality of fiobedience,fl in the fiPublic Weal.fl Hierarchy, as Elyot claims, cultivates concor d through the promotion of fireverence and due obedience [of] the vulgar people or commonality fl to their betters and the governing class; a fiPublic Wealfl lacking either fi reverence [o r]–due obediencefl is not a fiPublic Weal.fl Moreover, Elyot argues that ther e must be a clear social or der of subordina tion, lest one contradict God™s design or invi te social upheaval: "Where all things are common, there lacketh order: and where order lacketh, there all things are odious and uncomely" (1:7). 174 Elyot favors the term fipublic wealfl over ficommon wealfl due to the fact that the latter emphasizes an equality that he sees as un realistic when compared to the social reality of hierarchies. Elyot contends that England cannot be a common weal, since this term requires either that "the commoners must only be wealth y...or else, excluding gentility, all men must be of one degree and sort" (1:3). 200 Elyot™s insistence on subordination also manifests in the wr itings of the ficommonwealth men.fl Indeed, regardless of a tendency to argue for economic and spiritual equity, the ficommonwealth menfl emphasize the importance of social hierarchy. For instance, Thomas Lever, in a sermon delivered in December of 1550, declares such a sentiment through his emphasis that fithere must nedes be divers me[m]bersfl in the commonwealth lest concord become decentered and duties murky: And they that wolde have like quantitie of every thing to be gi ven to everye man, intending therby to make all alike, do utterly destroy the congregacion, the misticall bodie of Christ, wher as there mu st nedes be divers me[m]bers in diverse places, havinge diverse dueties. For as Pa ul saith: if all th e bodye be an eye, where is then hearing? or if all be an eare, where is then smelling? meaning therby, that if all be of one sorte, esta te, & roume in the come[n]wealth, how can then diverse dueties of diverse necessarie offices be done? (sig. B4v) Robert Crowley echoes Lever™s contention that an erasure of hierarchies undermines the integrity of concord in spiritual and ear thly communities by noting how a desire for fiall things in communefl frequently manifests when lawlessness a nd a lack of self-knowledge of duties exist (142). According to Crowley, not only do such men fiknow not themselves [and]–regard no lawes, [but more importantly], they would ha ve no gentlemen, they would have al men like themselves, they would have al l things in commune!fl (142). When ficommonwealth menfl do broach the topic of equity and economic fairness, it is done so in regards to spiritual equality. As Hugh Latimer declares in his 1550 sermon, fi[t]he poorest ploughman is in Christ equal with the greatest prince,fl and thus it is the duty of gove rnors to provide fisufficient [goods] to maintain them and to find them their necessaries.fl However, lest one imagine Latimer radically forward 201 thinking, he takes pains to clarify that, nonetheless, inferiors should not desire additional material wealth since Christ has provided all they need; any more would encourage ficovetousness [which] is the cause of rebellion,fl and work to undermine social hierarchies. As the ficommonwealth menfl argue, ambition and covetousness sow the seeds of discord and rebellion and undermine the fireverence and due obediencefl of which Elyot and, as earlier chapters note, friendship materials echo. Lever warns that through fivainglory, covetousness, & ambicio[n]fl of the lower sorte, th e commonwealth could cease to ex ists (sig. A6r). As he sternly declares, fiye shal cause covetous, sedicious, proude, & vicious England, sodenly, miseraliy, yea & shamefully in the sighte and judgement of the world, to vanish awayfl (sig. A6r). Likewise, Elyot characterizes fi[a]mbition [a]s a subtill mi schiefefl that fosters vice and discord in the commonwealth and fia privie poison, a covert pest ilence, the forger of deceite, the mother of hypocrisie, the nourice of envie, the fou[n]taine of vicesfl ( Sapience sig. A5v). Furthermore, Elyot contrasts the ills of fi[a]mbitionfl with the amity wrought by charity, or caritas (that is, a love of God redirected towards members of a community). According to Elyot, charity, as the wellspring of concord, promotes self-abnegation, humility, tranquility of mind, obedience, and, implicitly, class harmony: ficharit ee is pacient & ge[n]til. Charit ee hath envy at no man, it doth no thing amisse, it is not puffed up with pride, it is not ambicious , she seketh not hir profite, she is not moved, she thinketh none ill, she rejoyseth in no mischief, sh e joyeth with truthe, all thing she suffereth, all thing she beleveth, all thinge she hopeth, all th ing she beareth, Charitee never failethfl (sig. A6r). Using, as a point of departure, these discussions of charity as a promoter of concord and the concernsof decentering social hi erarchies due to ambition and covetousness, the final chapter considers how both themes manife st in Amelia Lanyer™s discussion of female friendship in her poetry. 202 In this chapter, I read Lanyer™s 1611 poem, Salve Deus Rex Judæorum , and her 1610 country house poem, fiDescription of Cook-ha m,fl alongside early modern texts on female friendship and charity. As I de monstrate, Lanyer™s poems, th rough a steady application of caritas, challenge an early modern orthodoxy that claims women as spir itually and morally inferior and incapable of forming meani ngful friendships. Throughout both poems, Lanyer employs caritas to refute misogynist interpretation of the Bible and to promote an image of social harmony among women of disparate classes. Indeed, she uses friendship to acknowledge a community of women brought together through th e love of Christ and comprised not only of patronesses, but readers of the ge ntry, middling-classes, and those fiof the meaner sortfl (4 line 50). However, faultlines in both poems put consid erable pressure on the notion of a community of women as a community of equals in terms of caritas. As I argue, divisions and faultlines that are mostly class-based pressure the utopian idea of friendship among women put forth by Lanyer. In order to support this thesis, I first examine how the era perceives the difference between female and male as well as how this su rfaces in the friendship materials. In the first section, I broadly examine period assumptions of gender, a term which, Valerie Traub succinctly defines as, fithose meanings derived from the divisi on of male and female, and thus the attributes considered appropriate to each: ‚masculine™ an d ‚feminine™fl (fiGenderfl 129). Of particular import, is the supposed physical and moral defi ciencies that set women apart from men, the miscellaneous ways in which these ideas are di sseminated in early modern culture, and the frequent contradictions and ambiguities of wo men™s supposed inferiority. Having established a broad historical and cult ural frame of reference, I turn to the era™s friendship materials, most notably the occasional pamphlets and translations of classical antecedents, in order to examine 203 how they construe these differences as disqua lifying women from formi ng virtuous or ‚perfect™ bonds of friendship. In the second section I examine Salve Deus and consider how Lanyer envisions friendship as caritas . I also consider how her critique of misogynist exegeses of the Bible, which she characterizes as a fiFalsehood [that] beares the shew of formall Rightfl in interpretations of the Fall as well as in the acti ons of Adam and Pontius Pilate, is central to understanding caritas as that which encourages virtue bu t is also fragile given the constant assault on female friendship by ea rthly forces. This section al so examines her country house poem, fiDescription of Cook-ham, fl and considers how it simultaneously praises Cook-ham and female friendship as utopian sites where class c eases to denote difference as well as a sacred, class-based place built around exclusi on of the lower social order. Up to this point, my examination of friendship and the care of the self in the preceding chapters has commented little on the implicit gende r bias of early modern friendship discourse, though, as I will show shortly, this bias is fre quently explicit as well. Indeed, early modern friendship discourse assumes frie ndship to be solely a mascu line endeavor from which women are disqualified due to a host of supposed inte llectual and moral deficiencies. As Tom MacFaul observes, a consistent attribute of fithe Renais sance praise of friendshi p [is a] tende[ncy] to emphasize its importance for a man™s lifefl while remaining fairly silent on its significance in the lives of women (3). According to Alan Bray, theo ries of friendship based on a male paradigm of intimacy underscore how the period™s knowledge of friendship is narrated, first and foremost, fiin men™s voices and about male concernsfl (11). Th e implicit gender bias and fimasculinity of 204 Renaissance ideas of friendship,fl as Laurie Shannon notes, fiis almost as proverbial as the description of the friendship pair as ‚one soul in bodies twain™fl (55). However, Bray observes that while early modern friends hip discourse is de cidedly male-centered, and thus mostly excludes women from its mentalité or attitude towards intimacy and ethics, we should not assume that the practice of frie ndship is strictly confined to men. Echoing Sara Heller Mendelson and Patricia Crawford, Bray stresses how the visibility of evidence can generate a false impression of early modern friendship pract ices. He likewise cautions scholars against replicating the kinds of unfounded qualitative clai ms directed toward women in early modern friendship discourse: fiit may be more visible to men, but that it was restricted to them is another matterfl (175). In rare instances that these materials include or address thos e of the opposite gender, as in the case of Cicero and Montaigne, they typically draw on fithe pere nnial allegation of a disabling womanly weaknessfl to underscore how fia woman will not have the capacity to perform the friendship rolefl (Shannon 58-9). Typically, these allegations result, as Albrecht Classen observes in her survey of representations of female frie ndship in premodern and early modern culture, in fifriendship among women [a]s mos tly excised, ignored, or cast in to a shadow of doubt since only men [a]re regarded as strong enough to main tain the serene, mostly rational, idealistic friendship with another personfl (8 1). Thus, a partial aim in this chapter is to demonstrate how concepts central to theoretical and practical representations of early modern friendship introduced in chapters one through three are also predicated on period unde rstandings of gender, and that when this is taken into account and read closely in the poetry of Lanyer, not only does a more nuanced narrative of friendship, caring for th e self, and political subjectivity emerge, but it does so without falling back on an either/or na rrative of purely suppr essed or resistant 205 women. 175 Lanyer™s Salve Deus proves invaluable for demons trating this approach to a patriarchal discourse of friendshi p, insofar as she demonstrates in great detail that women can form a polity of friendship, regardless of the opin ion of men such as Montaigne who claim this impossible due to be woman™s ‚natural™ inability to be figuided by vertue and conduct of reasonfl (sig. J7r). Gender, Friendship, and the Care of the Self Before proceeding to an examination of gende r in early modern friendship materials, it would be helpful to broadly establish how the era perceives gender as well as how the concept is disseminated across the cu lture. I make no pretense that th e following is an exhaustive account (obviously, a few pages cannot do justice to such a vast and complex topic); rather, an overview of early modern accounts of gender is important in order to emphasize its historicity, cultural diffusion, and contradictions. As Valerie Traub notes, fithe terms of gender change over time,fl and hence, ideas of what it means to be a woma n or man, as well as ‚feminine™ and ‚masculine,™ differ radically from our own (fiIntroductionfl 4). 176 Janel Mueller, writing about Lanyer and 175 Remarking on the positive product of such a both/and approach to female writers of the era, which acknowledges how women frequently both work within patriarchal discourse and simultaneously contest it, Barbara Smith and Ursula Appelt contend that fi[r]ather than either bewailing the reality of patriarchal oppression or lauding valiant efforts at resistance, [we should] consider women poets™ efforts to engage, respond to, and problematize cultural injunctionsfl (x). 176 For more thorough accounts of gender in early modern cutlure, see Thomas Laqueur, Making Sex: The Body and Gender from the Greeks to Freud (Harvard, 1990). Also see Susan Dwyer Amussen, An Ordered Society: Gender and Class in Early Modern England (Columbia, 1988); Laura Gowing, Gender Relations in Early Modern England (Routledge, 2012); Kim Hall, Things of Darkness: Economies of Race and Gender in Early Modern England (Cornell, 1995); Katherine U. Henderson, Half Humankind: Contexts and Texts of the Controversy about Women in England (University of Illinois, 1985). 206 fithe cultural embeddednessfl of ge nder, reminds us that fiessentialist ideas of ‚feminine™ and ‚masculine™ as innate features of the female and male sexesfl are culturally constructed and contingent on a specific time a nd place rather than natural, universal, and immutable (101). Moreover, as Traub observes, due to its fipr ovisional and contradictory nature, gender itself continually must be reproduced,fl thus making it equally important to briefly consider, in the current section, the social structures and cultura l channels through which this primarily occurs (4). Lastly, given that gender is culturally fashioned, and is ar ticulated in numerous texts from ‚high™ sonnets and learned treati ses to ‚low™ ballads, pamphlets, and jest books, it is equally important to recognize a few of the significant c ontradictions and ambiguities occurring in early modern accounts of women. While the era understands differences betw een woman and man to be manifold, as demonstrated, for instance, by a perceived dispar ity in the sexes as re gards fiintellectual and physical capacity, sexual and emo tional self-control, and the ability to reason,fl to quote Amanda Flather, the current discussion focuses narrowly on the supposed physical and moral differences of woman, even though, as it implicitly demonstr ates, most of the above characteristics are inextricably entangled with di scussions of woman™s corporeal and spiritual condition (20). Indeed, the anonymous author of the 1617 The worming of a mad dogge , a response to Joseph Swetnam™s misogynist pamphlet, The arraignment of lewd, idle, froward, and unconstant women, sardonically declares woman to be fihal f humankindfl in terms of her physical and spiritual condition while also noting the power and responsibility bestowed unto her by God for bringing new life into the world (sig. C1r). Although meant to be taken ironically, this characterization of woman as ‚naturally™ less than man is taken seriously by most during the era, 207 and is widely promoted in medical and theo logical discourses, to name only a few. As Mendelson and Crawford note in their magister ial study of women in the long seventeenth- century, of the many sites where claims to fiwoman™s otherness, weakness, inferiority, and passivityfl occur, the female body and its spiritual condition are two of the most significant (18). The female body, believed to be comprised of humors that fostered fidifferent temperaments [in] the two sexesfl (e.g., fiman was hot and dry,fl and thus understood to be closer to perfection, and fiwoman cold and moist,fl and thus given over to nu merous deficiencies), is also perceived as the force behind the different fiqualities and virtuesfl in each (19). 177 Accordingly, fiman [i]s [not only] active and woman submissive,fl due to the radical difference in humors, but fiman [i]s energetic, brave, and strong, wh ile woman [i]s gentle, tender , kind, and timorousfl (19-20). In addition to humoral theory, the narrative of woma n™s otherness is also promulgated by cultural reactions to other biolog ical functions such as menstruation (w omen are seen as toxic, fipolluted and pollutingfl), lact ation (milk is blood transformed), and fip arturitionfl (women fi[a]re by nature insatiable for sex and childrenfl) (21; 26). Early modern humoral theory is not only the explanatory force behind the ‚natural™ physical and emotional differences between woman and man, but, as Gail Pa ster Kern astutely observes, it also envisi ons the body as a fivessel of liquidsfl where choler, blood, black bile, and phlegm are fiimbued with moral density and spiritual importfl (4; 6). Thus, the otherness narrated by the female body is, according to Protestant theology and humo ral theory, inextricably linked to woman™s supposed spiritual and moral inferi ority. According to early modern theology, the central narrative that rationalizes this weakened physical and spiritual state in woman, and 177 Also see Flather 17-20. 208 simultaneously promotes what Mendelson and Cr awford label a culture of fimale spiritual hegemony,fl is Eve™s condition in Genesis 2:18 and 3:16, where she is seen, to quote William Gouge™s treatise, Of domesitcall duties , as the fiweaker vesselfl of God™s creation (32; qtd in Flather 17). 178 Eve™s secondary creation from Adam, as well as her perceived principal role in the Fall, is seen as having figeneral conseque nces for succeeding gene rationsfl of women, among which includes fithe assumption that the female se x [i]s subject and subordinate to the male sexfl in addition to an alleged fimoral and intell ectual weaknessfl (32). Indeed, a significant consequence for woman, according to the narrative of Eve™s transgression in Genesis, centers on the pain of childbirth and rearing, and more important, loss of power, independence, and political subjecthood. 179 It was frequently argued that while Christ had made redemption of woman possible through his crucifixion, his sacrifice on the cross did not restore her prelapsarian political state. As the theologian Fr ancis Dillingham contends in his 1609, Christian Oeconomy, or Household Government : fimany women might thinke that by reason of religion, all were equal–but–Christ hath freed men and women fr om the bondage of sinne and death, and not from outward subjectionfl (qtd in Mendelson and Crawford 31). Representation of woman™s ‚n atural™ physical, moral, and spiritual weakness is not confined to theological and medical treatises, bu t can also be found in an array of ‚low™ or ‚popular™ texts like ballads, jest books, and proverbs. 180 For instance, ballads such as fiA new 178 Other important verses include 1 Corint hians 11:7-10, 1 Timothy 2:14, and 1 Peter 3:1-7. 179 See Mendelson and Crawford, 33-34. 209 Song of a Young mans opinion, of the differe nce betweene a good and bad Women,fl jokingly characterizes woman as a social pestilence, give n her intellectual and moral inferiority to her male betters: fiThis Maxem oft hath past in Schole s / Our greatest plagues are women fooles.fl It likewise contains the ever popular joke, reiterated in ballads such as fiHow the Devill, though subtle, was guld by a Scold,fl of th e nag or shrew who exhausts Sa tan with her incessant chatter and scolding: fiBe her tongue so truely evil l / That well might tire the very Devillfl. 181 Contemporary proverbs, as M.P. Tilley demonstrat es in his exhaustive ca talogue, also promote notions of woman™s subordinate st atus. Indeed, fiA woman is the weaker vesselfl or fiwoman is the woe of manfl echo biblical ac counts of Eve as a feeble creature crafted by God, while fiNature miscarries when she brings forth Women,fl comment on the perceived physical and moral inferiority of woman arising from other ‚natur al™ processes (qtd in Mendelson and Crawford 60- 61). Although this overview may give the impressi on of a coherent denigration of woman across a variety of cultural venues, like any overdetermined representation, there existed numerous contradictions and ambiguities as rega rds this ‚weaker vessel.™ For instance, while woman were expected to remain silent and obedien t, through the teachings of Protestantism, she 180 Mendelson and Crawford also include fifolklore, charms and rhymes, ballads and songs, jokes and anecdotes, ‚old wives tales™, and nursery and fairy tales.fl They likewise group visual texts such as fiemblem books, woodcuts fo r ballads and broadsheets, engravings, and frontispiece illustrations [as texts that] helped de fine beliefs about gender attributesfl (59). 181 For further information on how jest books re spond to period assumptions of gender, see Pamela Allen, Better a Shrew than a Sheep: Women, Drama, and the Culture of Jest in Early Modern England (Cornell, 2003), 1-29. 210 was likewise encouraged to speak frankl y when moved by God and her conscience. 182 Thus, Anne Askew is, on the one hand, esteemed for her disobedience even though, on the other hand, she is expected, as a woman, to be subservien t. In a like manner, early modern friendship discourse contains similar incongruities a nd ambiguities. While woman is excluded from friendship due to her ‚naturally™ substandard intell ectual and moral status (a topic which I turn to next), friendship is frequently characterized in feminine terms, such as that by Thomas Churchyard, who claims friendship to be fithe mother and nurse of mutual lovefl (sig. C1r). Now that a concept such as gender has b een broadly situated in its cultural milieu, I now turn my attention to investigate how it manifests in early modern friendship materials. Similar to Pearson™s gloss on the student™s i nquiry, the marginal status of women in early modern friendship materials, most notably the o ccasional pamphlets and translations of classical antecedents discussed in earlier chapters, is mostly evident through the predominance of masculine pronouns, though it also manifests in e xplicit explanations of what makes women unsuitable for virtuous friendship. While a cursory glance of occasional pamphlet titles readily affirm this claim, as evinced, for in stance, by the subtitle of Breme™s 1584 The mirrour of friendship: both how to knowe a pe rfect friend, and how to choose him , canonical proverbs, such as fi Friendship is onely among good menfl or fiA faithfu ll Friend is as a man™s owne selfe,fl likewise illustrate period assumptions of friendshi p as exclusively a male prerogative (Dorke sig. A4v).183 A poem Churchyard uses as a prologue to his pamphlet on frie ndship, wherein it is 182 See Woods, xxxi. Also see Mendelson and Crawford, 16-17. 183 One may likewise turn to any arbitrary page in these pamphlets and compare the use of masculine and feminine pronouns. 211 likened to a tree that once esta blished in figood ground to growe upon, / It takes sound roote, and spreads his braunches out,fl encapsulates how the language of early modern friendship discourse is fundamentally male-centered (A4v). Discussing fithis tree [of friendship, which] in breast must needs be shrined,fl Churchyard repeatedly emphasizes a conception of friendship as naturally masculine: Where Friendship findes, good ground to growe vpon, It takes sound roote, and spreads his braunches out: Brings foorth fayre fruite, though spring be past and gon, And bloweth where, no other grayne will sprout: His flow'rs are still, in season all the yeere, His leaves are fresh, and greene as is the grasse, His sugred seedes, good cheape and nothing deere, His goodly barke, shines bright like gold or brasse: And yet this tree, in breast must needes be shrinde, And liues no where, but in a noble minde. (sig. A4v) As this excerpt demonstrates, through his use of masculine pronouns, Churchyard fashions his analogy of friendship and the proc ess of its regeneration after men. Not only is fiFriendshipfl imagined as a tree composed of decidedly male fibraunches,fl fiflow'rs,fl fileaves,fl fisugred seedes,fl and figoodly barke,fl but Ch urchyard™s insistence that friend ship filiues no where, but in a noble mind,fl read in conjunction with the numerous instances of fihisfl/flHis,fl implies a moral status conceivably available only to men. Churchyard™s suggestion that only the minds of men are capable of receiving and 212 realizing friendship is a common topic of discussion in early modern friendship materials, particularly translations of cl assical antecedents on the topic by Cicero, Plutarch, and Aristotle. Unlike Churchyard, however, these materials are frequently explicit in their dismissal of a woman™s capability to form mean ingful bonds of intimacy with ei ther women or men. Generally, these materials disqualify women from virtuous fr iendship due to supposed ‚natural™ differences in their gender of intellect, virtue, and strength. 184 Indeed, Montaigne™s 1580 essay, fiOf friendship,fl while not a translati on of classical antecedents, is heavily influenced by Aristotle, argues that women have long been excluded from friendship mostly as a result of their supposed inability to be figuided by vertue and conduct of reason,fl although he also identifies historical precedent as an additional contributing factor (si g. J7r). In reference to the classical antecedents from which early modern literature and culture de rive their theories of friendship, Montaigne observes that fithis sex could neve r yet by any example attaine unto it [i.e., friendship], and is by ancient schooles rejected thencefl (sig. J4v). 185 According to Montaigne, the female tendency to be fickle and feeble minded re nder them incapable of forming and sustaining intimate bonds of friendship: fiSeeing (to speake truly) that the ordi nary sufficiency of women, cannot answer this conference & communication, [and] the nurse of th is sacred bond: nor se eme their mi ndes strong enough to endure the pulling of a knot so hard, so fast, and durablefl (sig. J4r). Similarly, period translations of De amicitia contend that enfeebled persons l acking this capacity, strength, or 184 For the gendered dimension of the term ‚virtue,™ most notably its etymology and connotation of ‚manliness,™ see Allison Johnson™s dissertation, fi‚Virtues Friends™: The Politics of Friendship in Early Modern English Women™s Writingfl (Univers ity of Miami, FL, 2008), 8-9. 185 See Shannon, 60, f.n. 13, for classical antecedents that discuss female friendships. 213 fisufficiency,fl that is, those whom he terms the fiweykest and of leest power,– sholde– seke out grettest frendshippis or the frendshippe of grettest menfl (Tiptoft sig. B5r). 186 While he originally includes men in this category of thos e who need political patr onage and friendships of utility the most, Cicero makes it clear that this ar rangement is of particul ar import to women: fievery man [who] is weykest and of leest power, so sholde he seke grette st frendshippis or the frendshippe of grettest men. And by this meane as I trowe, that Sely wymmen sholde rather desire the helpe of frendship than men. And also th ey that were nedy, rather than they that were riche, & they that were wretched, than they that were welefulfl (sig. B5r-B5v). As Cicero fitrowe[s],fl that is, as he has the utmost trust or confidence in his claim, fiSely,fl miserable, or poor creatures such as fiwymmenfl have a remarkable need or fidesirefl for the fihelpe of [male] friendshipfl more fithan men.fl Indeed, according to Cicero, not only are fiwymmenfl apparently incapable of forming friendships for the ethical r easons outlined in chapter two of this project, but due to the ‚natural™ weakness of their ge nder, they are also morally bankrupt like the fiwretchedfl poor and lack the same degree of ag ency found in the more fiweleful.fl Plutarch, by the same token, also confines hi s discussion to fifriendship am ong menfl in the essays fiHow a Man may discerne a Flatterer from a Friendfl a nd fiOf the Pluralitie of Friends,fl and while elsewhere in the Moralia he does entertain the possibility of female friendship, he does so narrowly and in support of patriarchal power (s ig. H2r). In his essay fiOf Love,fl Plutarch ridicules those who believe wome n incapable of friendship, stati ng that fito holde, that being by nature not indisposed unto ot her vertues, they are untoward for amitie onely and frendship, (which is an imputation laid upon them) is altoge ther beside all reasonfl (sig. Eeeee2r). While 186 See Harington, sig. D8v, and Newton, sig. C5r. 214 Plutarch appears to diverge from Cicero™s es timation of fiSely wymmen fl by making a case for their possibility to enter into virtuous fiamitie,fl as well as reprimand those absent of fiall reasonfl for believing that women, like Montaigne contends, filack minds strong enoughfl or are finot indisposedfl to fifriendship,fl in reality, to quote Valerie Wayne, he firelates friendship to marital affection,fl and thus makes an implicit claim for female subordination to men, rather than parity (16). Indeed, following Aristotle™s contention in the Nicomachean Ethics that marriage can sometimes (though rarely) be a perfected form of friendship, and keeping with early modern humanism™s stress on conjugium as the linchpin of marriage, Philomen Holland™s Plutarch writes, in this instance, of the ficonjunction of man and wife, filos [beloved or dear], that is to say, amity and friendshipfl (Eeeee2r). 187 In seeing marriage as fithe best and most pleasurable form of love and the most beneficial form of friendship,fl as Wayne observes of the essay fiOf Love,fl Plutarch, similar to Aristotle and Cice ro, subjugates women to husbandly, or in the case of the latter, male, authority (17). 188 In The Taming of the Shrew , Katherine™s instruction to the 187 See The Nicomachean Ethics, 1162a. Also see Wayne, 24. As Wayne observes in her introduction to Edmund Tilney™s 1568, The Flower of Friendship, conjugium was fia term humanists often used to identify marriage–.T he word emphasizes the marital union of husband and wife, spiritually as well as physically, and their reciprocal responsibilitiesfl (24). 188 In stating that fithe family is an earlier and more funda mental institution than the State,fl Aristotle characterizes the husband as ruler of the household. He likewise classifies women as the weaker of the sexes in descri bing how the fidivision of laborfl in marriage demonstrates that fiman and woman have different functionsfl and that each perform work according to their gender. See 1162a.7-8. Also see Robert Cleaver, A godlie forme of householde government for the ordering of private families (London, 1598), sig. F8r and sig. K4r, for a period example that fuses friendship discourse with that of marri age and also draws upon models of government to discuss familial organization. 215 other women demonstrates a period understanding of conjugium as articulated by Plutarch and Aristotle: fiThy husband is thy lor d, thy life, thy keeperfl (5.2.150). Narratives of fiidealistic friends hipfl frequently depict wome n as a token that solidifies male bonding, as is the case with the nameless maiden of Elyot™s fiThe wonderfulle historie of Titus and Gysippusfl (referred to as Sophrone in ballad versions of the tale), or as a wedge that comes between men, such as Lucilla in Lyly™s Euphues: The Anatomy of Wit , Bellaria in Greene™s Pandosto: The Triumph of Time , and Emilia in Shakespeare™s The Two Noble Kinsmen (just to name a few). 189 These instances demonstrate how women are often characterized in friendship narrat ives as mediators, fifacilitators, or enemies, of male bonding,fl rather than active participants, as Laura Gowing and others note (132). 190 However, even when women are perceived as fienemies of male bonding,fl such as in Euphues and Noble Kinsmen, they are also presented as the pa rty that ultimately reconciles stri fe between male friends. This is represented as easily achieved in these narratives when women are reduced to a gift or a fisign of love and friendshipfl that circulates among men, as Lorna Huts on notes in her research on friendship and service in the sixteenth-century (2-3). 191 Notwithstanding the marginal status of women in these occasional pamphlets and translations, one would gi ve a false impression of the era™s friendship discourse to claim that 189 See Wyllyam Walter™s 1525 ballad, Here begynneth ye hystory of Tytus & Gesyppus translated out of latyn in to englysshe by Wyllyam Walter . 190 See Bray 175 and Mills 430. 191 Also see Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick, Between Men: English Literature and Male Homosocial Desire (Columbia, 1992). 216 representations of female friends hip are altogether missing. This is certainly not the case when attention is directed towards early modern litera ture, where one may locate sporadic instances of active friendship between women often fused with representations of them as tokens or enemies of male friendship. For instance, Th omas Lodge, in his prose romance Rosalynd, has the titular character proclaim to Alinda , despite their banishment by Torismond, not fito be melancholy, when thou hast with thee Alinda a friend, who wil be a fathful c opartner of al thy misfortunes, who hath left her father to follow thee, and chooseth rather to brooke al extremities then to forsake thy presencefl (sig. D2v). Lodge draws on various motifs of fr iendship, particularly the classical exempla of virtuous male friends such as Damon and Pythias or Orestes and Pylades, as well as what Bray refers to as fithe epithet of ‚bedfellow,™fl in order to stress the amity of Alinda and Rosalynd: ficheerly woman, as wee have been bed fellowes in royaltie, we wil be felow mates in povertie: I wil ever be thy Alinda, and thou shalt ever rest to me–so shall the world canonize our friendship, and speake of Rosalynd and Alinda, as they did of Pilades and Orestes. (sig. D2r; 153). 192 Shakespeare echoes this sentiment in As You Like It, his adaptation of Rosalynd, through Rosalind and Celia™s relationsh ip. Similar to Lodge™s treatment, however, the ultimate fate of Rosalind and Celia™s filove / Which teacheth thee that thou and I am onefl is highly problematic since both are eventually married o ff to men, thus suggesting that women who make good friends make even better wive s, or, to put it another way, that same-sex friendship prepares women for heterosexual marriag e and subservience (a theme to which I shall return in my discussion of fiCook-hamfl below) (1.3.92-93). 193 A Midsummer Night™s Dream , 192 See Hanes Walton, Jr™s m odernized edition of Rosalynd (Edinburgh, 1995), 47. 217 provides a more nuanced view of female friends hip, though it too is not without its share of problems. Indeed, the friendship of Hermia and Helena, which the latter characterizes, drawing on the proverb ‚one soul in bodies twain,™ as a fiwarbl ing of song, both in on e key, / As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds / Had been inco rporate,fl suffers a fate similar to that of Rosalind and Celia in As You Like It (3.2.206-208). In an interesting twist on the trope of women as enemies of male bonding, however, heterosexua l love, particularly that of Hermia and Lysander, drives a wedge between female friend ship. Titania™s friendship with the deceased mother of the changeling is a more compelling repr esentation of female fr iendship that refuses to conform to period unders tandings of gender and friendship. I ndeed, friendship with the departed fuels Titania™s sense of duty to care for the child: fiAnd for her sake do I rear up the boy, / And for her sake I will not part with himfl (2.1.136-137). 194 Titania™s commitment to the changeling™s mother, especially the respect a nd honor she bestows on their friendship, echoes a fundamental and exalted proverb of virtuous ma le friendship in early modern culture: fi amicitia etiam post mortem (friendship extends even beyond death)fl (S tretter 347). Finally, in refutation of the belief in women™s inability to form me aningful bonds with others, Donne™s elegies for Lady Markham and to Lady Bedford argue that women too are endowed with the virtue and agency friendship demands of men. Indeed, fiAn Elegy upon the Death of Lady Markham,fl can 193 For Shakespeare™s interpretation of the brief dialogue on friendship between Rosalynd and Alinda, see 1.3.90-94. Also see Hyme n™s officiating of the wedding of Rosalind and Orlando at 5.4.107-114 and 5.4.124-139 for instances where the discourse of marriage draws on that of friendship. 194 See 2.1.121-137 for Titania™s memory of her friendship . Also see Montaigne™s fiOf friendshipfl for discussions of friendship with the dead. Friendship with the dead in early modern literature and culture is a topic that me rits further examination at length. 218 be read as a direct response to individuals such as Montaigne who declare the supposed womanly weakness of mind and body as traits that dis qualify women from activ ely participating in friendship. Donne, writing of Lady Ma rkham™s virtue or figood[ness] in all her titlesfl as woman, wife, and widow, contends such traits fiTo have reformed this forward he resy: / ‚That women can no parts of friendship befl (56-58). In fiElegy: To the Lady Bedford,fl written for the Lady on the death of a close friend, he draws on familiar tropes of virtuous friendship, most notably that of ‚one soul in bodies twain™ and ‚friendship extends even beyond d eath,™ to present the friendship of these two women as comparable to the male exempla known to Alinda and Rosalynd, as well as many others during the era: And since you act that part, as men say ‚Here Lies such a prince,™ when but one part is there, And do all honour and devotion due Unto the whole, so we all reverence you. For, such a friendship who would not adore In you, who are all what both was before Œfl (lines 15-20) 195 Aside from addressing, as Shannon notes, fithe strange post-mortem economies familiar from Montaigne,fl and, I would add, Cicero, and Shakespeare™s Midsummer, Donne also fienvisions female friendship as fully commensurate with the masculine normfl outlined in the occasional pamphlets and translations (87; line 4). However, it is troublesome that according to Donne, female friendship is only admirable or intellig ible through a male paradigm, that is, only when women fiact that partfl commensurat e to men or when they abide by the culturally scripted duties 195 Also see lines 1-14 for further use of friendship proverbs. 219 of maid, wife, or widow should fiw e all reverencefl them. This is to say nothing of the fact that it is a man who authorizes these attributes of Bedford and Markham as constituting virtuous friendship respectively. Nonetheless, Donne™s poem is remarkable fo r envisioning the friendship of women, and the subsequent fireform[ation of] this forwar d heresy,fl as analogous to the upheaval of a tyrannical power. While in his eulogy for La dy Markham this fireform[ation]fl concerns a transformation of received wisdom of what constitutes friendship, as well as who can participate, his poem to Lady Bedford references the apocr yphal story of Judith, a woman who literally overpowers a tyrant, Nebuchadnezzar, by beheading his general Holofernes. 196 Lanyer includes Judith as one example of fipower[ful]–wise and virtuous womenfl that other females should emulate. Remarking on this reference to Judith in Donne, which can easily be extended to his comment on the upheaval of the popular opinion of friendship, Shannon argues that finothing less than an image of a tyrannical force undone by a pair of women seems to be the proper compensatory contemplation for a Lady mourning her friendfl (89). While a survey of female friendship offers a more comprehensive account than that narrated by the era™s friendshi p discourse as a whole, it al so illuminates many of the contradictions and ambiguities that stem from claims about gender. However, simply to catalogue instances of female friendship in early modern friendship materials is ultimately of slight value to our study of the era Œ indeed, we must make something of these representations, 196 For the biblical significance of Judith, see the Book of Judith 8-13 . In a sermon delivered March 4, 1625, Donne says of Judith, that upon her killing the Assyrian general Holofernes: fiSo the priests and the elders come to Judith, and they say to her: ‚Thou art the exaltation of Jerusalem, thou art the great glory of Israel, thou art the rejoicing of our nation, thou hast done all these things by thy hand.™fl See f.n. 44 in Donne. 220 contradictions, and ambiguities in relation to the wider culture. As Penelope Anderson notes in a recent review of scholarship on early modern friendship, fithe writing of the female body back into the narrative of friendship is not the boldest claim an author can make for female friendship. The boldest claim is instead that for the language of friendship, the public, ethical significations of friendship™s tropes and historyfl (250). 197 With an eye toward the critical significance of female friendship, most notably as regards its fipublic , ethical significations,fl the next section turns to the poetry of Lanyer and considers how sh e employs friendship and the care of the self in order to comment on the cultural constrai nts placed by men on a community of women. As the next section on the Salve Deus demonstrates, Lanyer freque ntly aligns the plight of Margaret, Eve, and Christ, with male tyranny in a double sense of men™ s deliberate misreading of the Genesis narrative and the history of th eir abuse of earthly power. In doing so, Lanyer characterizes the friendship of wo men, envisioned as joined through caritas , as endangered by a tyrannous biblical interpretation that disregards how Adam, abdi cating his friendship with God and Eve, as well as Pontius Pilate, with his wi fe and his conscience, are akin to forms of despotism. Lanyer depicts such misinterpretation and despotism as decidedly male and as a form of fityrannical rule [in which o ccurs] a negation of reason, restrain t, virtue, and law in favor of the lawless regime of abandonment to passion,fl to borrow a quote from Shannon™s discussion of Elizabeth Cary™s The Tragedy of Miriam (74). Lanyer contrasts instances of tyrannical rule in the Bible, as well as misapprehension of Scripture, with moments where the friendship of women is strengthen through their commit ment to God, such as in The teares of the daughters of Jerusalem 197 Also see Traub, fiGender,fl 129-131. 221 or Sidney™s female utopia. Moreover, she depicts caritas as that which encourages virtue but is also fragile given the constant assault on female friendship by earthly forces. Tyranny, Caritas, and Feminine Ethos in Lanyer As a topic frequently used to emphasize inor dinate self-love or a deficient conscience, early modern friendship discourse makes considerab le use of the figure of the tyrant. As evinced by Cary™s The Tragedy of Miriam, Edwards™s Damon and Pythias, and Shakespeare™s Macbeth , the tyrant is often used to sign ify myriad characteristics, such as excessive passi on that overrules reason, a hardened conscience, or a usurper who works against the laws of God and ‚nature.™ 198 Indeed, friendship discourse, particularly Cicero™s De amicitia , likens the friend who refuses the other™s counsel to a tyrant: fiIt is not all one to live with a tiraunt and to live with a frende.fl Likewise, friendship materials frequently em phasize a Christianized form of friendship, caritas, or ‚charity™ as it is sometimes called, in order to underscore a spiritual a nd tripartite relationship where one™s filove addressed to God [is] redirect ed to fellow humans only via his intermediate position,fl as Klaus Oschema characterizes it in premodern society (qtd in Classen 19). The fourth book of Spenser™s The Faerie Queene is undoubtedly one of the best examples in early modern literature of friendship as caritas, as is George Herbert™s The Temple and most of Donne™s corpus. 199 Caritas and the belief that fi Deus amicitia est fl [God is friendship] broadly 198 See Cary 1.6.453-54. The tyrant also signifies one who refuses frank counsel and opts instead for flattery. See Shannon 52-53; 73-74; 86-89; and 108-113. Also see Mills 142-44 and 173. 199 Similar to the topic of gender, caritas is rather complex and what is presented here is extremely simplified. For greater detail, see Bray™s discussion of Aelred of Rievaulx™s twelfth century text, De Spiritali Amicitia [Of spiritual friendship], 254 Œ 261. Also see Mary E. Laker™s translation of Spiritual Friendship (Cistercian, 1977). Matthew 18:20 clarifies why caritas is a 222 underpins the Salve Deus, most notably in terms of an emphasis on a friendship with Christ as that which unifies a community of women and prom otes their inward virtue as well as outward political agency, as evinced by the female utopi a in the dedication to Mary Sidney, the numerous addresses to Margaret, and the section on Pilate™s wife (qtd. in Bray 257). 200 Furthermore, Lanyer presents the tyra nt as a necessary oppositional figure and textual practice that threatens the possibility of caritas, and female ethical and political agen cy in particular and simultaneously provides opportunities for its creation and expression. Throughout the Salve Deus , Lanyer gestures toward tyranny several times, where she sporadically depicts it as a natural phenomenon necessary fo r the redemption and grace of mankind. Through Lanyer™s early address to Margar et, tyranny is first in troduced as a natural force, the fityrant Time,fl that brings the ruin of earthly and superficia l beauty fiunaccompanied with virtuefl and subsequently elevates a fiHeaven ly gracefl in its wake that fidoth all imperfect Thoughts controule, / Directing thee to se rve thy God aright fl (187; 248-251). Her characterization of fityrant Timefl as a force necessa ry to raise fiHeavenly gr acefl resurfaces in the end of her narrative of the Passion through her observation that the death of Christ™s earthly body allows him, as well as the community of believe rs, to transcend such material power as fiThat prowd insulting Tyrantfl death: fiBeing dead, he killed Death, and did survive / That prowd tripartite relationship between two believers and God. Wh ile the brothers Triamond, Priamond, and Diamond are born of Agap , that is, the spiritual communit y, kinship, or brotherhood formed through the love of Christ, the period often conflates agap and caritas. 200 Also see the discussion of community formed by dwelling fiwithin [Christ™s] Tabernaclefl in lines 129-136. 223 insulting Tyrant in whos e place / He sends bright Immortalitie to revive / Those whom his yron armes did long embracefl (1209-1212). Although Lanyer depicts tyranny as a force that ultimately buttresses caritas and virtue, insofar as the community and ethos cultivated through Ch rist arise as a response to tyranny, she nonetheless explicitly conde mns it as an act against God. This is most evident in her discussion of Pilate, whose actions she characterizes as fiwrong, [and committed] with tyrannie, and mightfl (844). She does, however, include Adam in this category, whose eating from the Tree of Knowledge Lanyer perceives as an act of amb ition that defines everything a Christian should strive to avoid, choosing rath er to emulate and improve upon the moral condition embodied by Eve (844). According to Lanyer™s accusation of Adam™s tyranny, if tyranny can be construed as a sovereign™s annulment of responsibility, reason, and law in exchange for what Laurie Shannon terms an fiabandonment to passion,fl then his acti ons can reasonably be perceived as tyrannous. Indeed, in Lanyer™s interpretation, Adam™s trespass fican not be excused,fl since fiBeing Lord of allfl on earth, he abdicates his responsibility to God and Eve in order to pursue his own passions: But surely Adam can not be excused, Her fault though great, yet hee was most too blame; What Weaknesse offerd, Strength might have refused, Being Lord of all, the greater was his shame: Although the Serpants craft had her abused Gods holy word ought all his actions frame, For he was Lord and King of all the earth, Before poore Eve had either life or breath. (777-784) 224 Reiterating in the couplet that G od had bestowed sovereignty unto Adam as fiLord of all,fl which is doubly emphasized through the title fiLord and King of all the earth,fl Lanyer stresses the severity of his trespass. Indeed, although Ad am should have refused Eve™s offer through fiStrengthfl of will as well as knowledge of, and in accordance with, the law of fiGods holy word,fl Lanyer suggests that he selfishly gave into passion rather than wi sely rule. As the next stanza clarifies, he willingly chose to disobey the law due to his desire™s appetite: Who being fram™d by Gods eternall hand, –And from God™s mouth receiv ™d that strait command, The breach whereof he knew was present death: –Yet with one Apple wonne to loose that breath Which God had breathed in his beauteous facefl (787-791). Ultimately, Lanyer posits that Adam™s hunger for th e inherent power of the fruit, not Eve™s persuasion or Satan™s guile, provides the reason for his disobedience: fiThe fruit being faire perswaded him to fall: / No subtill Serpents falsehood did betray him, / If he would eate it, who had the powre to stay him?fl (798-800). As the final line of the couplet suggests, a sinister motivation for Adam arises from a lust for even greater power Œ indeed, fiIf he would eate it, who had the powre to stay him?.fl Marginalia to this passage in the Geneva Bible supports such a reading, noting that Adam was moved to eat the fr uit fiNot so much to please his wife, as moved by ambition at her persuasion.fl However, though Lanyer perceives Adam™s abdication of responsibility to God as subject and Eve as sove reign as a grievous act of ambition, she places a great emphasis on the tyranny of P ontius Pilate, characterizing it as greater than fiIf many worlds would altogether trie, / By all their sinnes the wrath of God to getfl (821-822). 225 Lanyer™s critique of Pilate, whom she epitom izes as fia faultie Judge [who] condemnes the Innocent,fl occupies a central place in her Passi on narrative, and it is here that she offers an extended critique of tyra nny of the few and the many directed against Christ Œ a critique, which I show shortly, she also extends to a community of women and caritas (938). Similar to her discussion of Adam™s culpability for the Fa ll of humankind, where tyranny is expressly perceived as fian abandonment to passionfl at the expense of reason and responsibility for the care of others under the law, Lanyer presents Pilate as captive to his hardened heart, as well as the multitude, and thus unable to partake of frie ndly counsel. Lanyer draws on a variation of the tyrant prevalent in friendship discourse as one who fifears or prohibits ‚f riendly™ communications of a different view,fl as Shannon aptly characte rizes this archetype (52). Indeed, the tyrant typically fifails to see the virtue of a counselor speaking the sharp language of a healthy truth in the exercise of liberty of speech,fl choosing instead to remain steadfa st (or in this case, absolutely silent), in his obstinacy and depr avity (52). Lanyer depicts Pila te™s fimost worthy wifefl as the counselor or parrhsiastes who, unlike Adam in his refusal to use fithose sharpe words, which he of God did hearefl in order to chastise Eve, r eadily relays to her husba nd the holy wisdom she received from Heaven: fiWitness thy wife (O Pilate) speaks for all; / Who did but dreame, and yet a message sent, / That thou should™st have not hing to doe at all / With that just manfl (751; 834-837). She employs a range of approaches in her attempts to frankly counsel Pilate and steer him from tyranny, including rhetorical questions (fiArt thou a Judge a nd asketh what to do, / With one, in whom no fault there can be found?fl) , comparisons to infamous tyrants (fiWhy wilt thou be a reprobate with Saul?fl), tactful rebuke (fiThou art agains t all truth and right, / To seale this act– / With blood, and wrong, with tyranni e, and mightfl), and st ern disapproval (fiLet barb™rous crueltie farre depart fr om thee, / And in true Justice ta ke afflictions part; / Open thine 226 eies, that thou the truth mai™st see, / Doe not the thing that goes against thy heartfl) (857-858; 838; 842-844; 751-756). Lanyer compounds the individual tyranny of Pila te with that of fi[ t]his rude tumultuous routefl demanding the crucifixion of Christ (754). As Lanyer observes, fithese sinful peoplefl further embolden Pilate to ignore his responsibil ity to fitrue Justicefl and abandon himself to his passions, fimalice,fl and fisinnefl (841; 816; 823). On the one hand, Pilate™s cr uelty is depicted as partially arising from his inability and unwillingness to listen to his consci ence Œ indeed, his wife perceives his tyranny as so great that even fithine owne conscience seeks this sinne / to shunnefl (864-865). However, Lanyer also suggests that the tyrant paradoxically rule s out of fear of the crowd, and thus earthly power and a fibase dejection of this Heavenly Lightfl or authority occupy a greater part of his conscience and decision fiThe multitude–to appeasefl: Yea, so thou mai™st thes e sinful people please, Thou art content against all truth and right, To seale this act, that may procure thine ease With blood, and wrong, with tyrannie, and might; The multitude thou sleeke st to appease, By base dejection of this heavenly Light. (841-846) She further underscores this through the discussion of the fiThree feares [t hat] at once possessed Pilates heart,fl among fithat which proov™d the deepest wounding dart, / Is Peoples threat™nings, which he so much feares, / That he to Cæsar could not be a friendfl (913; 917-919). This picture is complicated by demonstrating how, ultimately, fi Pilate thou art proov™d a painted wall, / A golden Sepulcher with rotten bones,fl that cannot fu lly rise to execute an act of tyranny against Christ and his own conscience (921-922). Ca lling upon Herod, who as Shannon notes, is fian 227 archetypical despotfl in early modern literature a nd culture, Lanyer presents this as necessary in order for Pilate fiTo reconcile thy selfe [and conscience] by tyranniefl (876). Adam and Pilate are not the onl y examples of male tyranny in Salve Deus, however. Lanyer locates tyranny throughout the poem, most not ably in the fiHigh Prie sts and Scribes, and Elders of the Land, / Seeking by force to have their wicked Wilsfl (489-491). Indeed, she draws on much of the same language used to describe Pilate and Adam in her castigation of the Pharisee: they are fistony hearted,– /–void of Pitie,–full of Spightfl a nd with great fiZeale, Lawes, Religion, now they doe pretend / Against the truth, untruths they seek to framefl; (508- 509;548-549). Although she depicts th e unjust actions of these men and fitheir wicked Wilsfl as directed toward persecuting Christ, she simulta neously locates a resonance in the biblical interpretation of contemporary men that fault woman as the reason for the Fall as well as her subsequent moral and intellectual in feriority. As alluded to in the introduction to this chapter, the significance of this parallel is established in the dedication fiTo the Vertuous Readerfl where fievill disposed menfl who speak ill of woman are likened to fiV ipers [that] deface the wombs wherein they were bredfl (48 lines 19; 22-23). Lanyer positions these fimen, [who]–unjustly lay to their chargefl the inferiority of woman as ak in to the Pharisee who unjustly persecuted Christ and his community of believers: fiSuch as these, we re they that dishonoured Christ his Apostles and Prophets, putting them to shameful deaths. Th erefore we are not to regard any imputations, that they undeservedly lay upon us , no otherwise than to make use of them to our owne benefits, as spurres to vertue, making us flie all occasions that may colour their unjust speeches to passe currantfl (48-49 lines 24-30). Throughout Salve Deus, Lanyer demonstrates how male tyranny directed against women, whether terrestrial or text ual, actually strengthens caritas by providing women opportunities, or 228 what she refers to as fispurres to vertue,fl to exercise political agency and solidarity. She provides copious examples of biblical, ap ocryphal, and real women whose virtue, heroism, and friendship with Christ prove the fiimputationsfl leveled against women by fievill disposed menfl erroneous. For instance, Pilate™s wife contests assert ions of woman™s culpability for the Fall and introduction of sin into the worl d, stating that it is absurd and hypocritical of men fito lay the fault on Patience backe, / That we (poore women) must endure it allfl (793-794). In a similar manner, Lanyer writes ficontrary to this custom efl of denigrating women by appealing to biblical authority (48 line 4). Her reading is populated w ith fiwise and virtuous women [charged] to bring down th[e] pride and arroganciefl of male tyrants as well as misogynist interpreters of the Bible (48 line 4; 49 lines 31-33). Claims of woman™s marvelous responsibility to act on behalf of God and check men who fihave tempted the patience of God himselffl are most evident in her catalogue of virtuous and heroic women previously mentioned (49 line 31). Indeed, Lanyer presents her readers with a history of woman rife with exampl es of courageous females who ha ve been divinely ordained to protect the community of believe rs on earth. For instance, Lanye r uses the figure of Deborah, depicted in the Old Testament as a divinely inspired champion who defended the oppressed Israelites, to emphasize how G od imbues woman with power and political agency in order to make his love manifest on earth: fiWise Deborah that judged Israel, / –God did his will reveale, / And gave her powre to set his people freefl (148 1-1484). In a like manner, she uses the figure of Judith to express a similar sentiment of female political agency divinely ordained to quash tyranny: fi Judith had the powre likewi se to queale / Proud Holifernes , that the just might see / What small defence vain pride and greatnesse hath / Against the wea pons of Gods word and faithfl (1485-1488). 229 More broadly, Lanyer provides numerous inst ances where male oppression in the Bible contributes to the cultivation of caritas among a community of women. Indeed, God speaks to Pilate™s wife in a dream, but not Pilate; Christ is moved by th e tears of wome n on his way to Calvary, but not the threats of tyrants; Christ is not abandoned by women as he dies, but his disciples all but disappear out of cowardice; and, perhaps most famously, after his resurrection, he first appears to Mary Magdalen a nd his mother Mary, rather than men. 201 In these instances, tyranny is depicted as a cruc ial part of fiProvidencefl used by God to bestow favor or ficountenance,fl that is a publicly displayed mark er of friendship, on a community of believers that fortifies their resilience in the face of oppression: The righteous Lord doth righteousness allow, His countenance will behol d the thing that™s just; Unto the Meane he makes the Mightie bow, And raiseth up the Poore out of the dust: Yet makes no count to us, nor when, nor how, But powers his grace on a ll, that puts their trust In him. (121-127) In representing caritas and the resulting community founded in and through Christ as partially contingent on one™s willingness to fiput their trust / In himfl and simultaneously beyond one™s control, insofar as the firighteousness allow[ed]fl by Christ occurs at a place and time he deems appropriate (i.e., he fimakes no count to us, nor when, nor how, / But powers his grace on allfl), 201 See 834-837; 969-1008; 50 lines 48-54. 230 Lanyer suggests that to deprive women of political and ethical ag ency is fundamentally at odds with the spirit of God™s law (an idea which I discu ss in the concluding section of this chapter). Lanyer does not confine her choices of fe male exempla to biblical and apocryphal women but also includes contemporaries, among whom Margaret, Countess of Cumberland proves to be one of the more important examples. In writing to individuals such as Margaret and Mary Sidney, as well as fivertuous Ladies in generall,fl Lanyer de monstrates how the courageous females from history given the task to promote caritas extends to her contemporaries. However, Lanyer™s exploration of female fr iendship also reinscribes and legitimates the social heirarchies so crucial to a male-centered discourse of friendship where bonds of amity are imbued with power and social prestige. Lanyer™s community of women appears to have little room for those not of the gentry (indeed, even the middling-so rt, aside from Lanyer, seem to be largely excluded); rather, the friendship she writes of is reserved for fiall virtuous Ladies and Gentlewomanfl (48 lines 6-7; 4 line 50). In othe r words, Lanyer™s representation of ‚great™ women work against the notion of general female friendship, which assumes a community of equals. Writing the Salve Deus for her patron, the Countess of Cumberland, Lanyer explicitly situates Margaret in a genealogy of women that includes Deborah and Judith, proclaiming: fiLoe Madame, heere you take a view of those, / Wh ose worthy steps you doe desire to treadfl (1825- 1826). 202 Moreover, Lanyer uses spiritual exempla to underscore contemporary issues, such as Margaret™s ongoing legal and financial issues, and to emphasize political ag ency of women from 202 See 1496-1504 for Lanyer™s discussion of how Margaret™s virtue and actions exceed those of Deborah and Judith. 231 the aristocracy. In her dedication to the Margaret , Lanyer alludes to Marg aret™s troubles securing her daughter™s inheritance, writi ng: fiRight Honourable and Excelle nt Lady, I may say with Saint Peter, Silver nor gold have I none, but such as I have, that give I you –I present unto you even our Lord Jesus himselfe, whose infinit value is not to be comprehended within the weake imagination or wit of man: and as Saint Peter gave health to the body, so I deliver you the health of the soulefl (34 lines 1-10). Lanyer invokes Sa int Peter in a later a ddress to Ma rgaret in Salve Deus; this time, however, an emphasis is placed on spiritual and earth ly powers to heal: These are the those Keyes Saint Peter did possesse, Which with a Spirituall powre are giv™n to thee, To heale the soules of those that doe transgresse, By thy faire virtues: which, if once they see, Unto the like they doe their minds addresse, Such as thou art, such they desire to be: If they be blind, thou giv™st to them their sight, If deafe or lame, the h eare, and goe upright. (1369-1376). As Lanyer suggests, mostly in reference to virt ue, faith, and charity, Margaret has inherited terrific fiSpirituall powrefl that allow her to heal the fithe soules of those that doe transgresse,fl along with the fiblinde,fl fideafe or lame.fl Bestow ing fiapostolic healing pow ersfl on Margaret, as Woods characterizes this stanza, Lanyer presents her patron as imbued with a mystical privilege traditionally perceived as confined to men (110 f.n. 1379). Although she suggests that this this privilege and power extends to fiall vertuous Ladies in generall,fl it is important to note that Lanyer refrains from situating them in a gen ealogy of courageous women and investing them with priestly powers typically reserved for men; rather, Lanyer reserves this honor mostly for 232 members of the aristocracy, most notably Marg aret, Elizabeth, and Queen Anne. The alignment of these women with Aaron, fithe first true pr iest and typological forerunner of Christ,fl as Lynette McGrath notes, not only claims that G od has bequeathed great power unto (a select circle of) women, but, more importantly, it under mines Lanyer™s claims that the community of women, opened to all regardless of social standing, is created and sustained through caritas (212). Thus, one must questi on who is fi[a]nnoynt[ed]–with Aarons pretious oylefl and Christ™s blessings in Lanyer™s vision of female community: fiAnnoynt your haire with Aarons pretious oyle, / And bring your palmes of vict™ry in yo ur hands / To overcome all thoughts that would defile / The earthly circ uit of your soules faire landsfl (36-39). Lanyer™s Salve Deus, written for her chief patroness, Margaret, Countess Dowager of Cumberland as an offer of solace from her legal troubles (she was disputing the inheritance accorded to her daughter, Anne Clifford), places Margaret in a privileged place with Christ that, as far as one may gather from an absence of women from other social classes, is foreclosed to those of lower cla sses. Indeed, the clear hierarchy in the dedications in prefatory materials along with sites of class privilege in Salve Deus Rex Judæorum and lamentations of class-differe nce and alienation in fiCooke-ham,fl suggest that in spite of the rhet oric that friendship fosters concor d that transcends class, where, according to Cicero, fibetters in degree, ought to e quall theim selves with their inf[e]riours, so ought inf[e]riours not to be greeved,fl her poet ry is abound with in stances where social heirarchies are reinscribed (Harrington sig. F6r).203 Writing on fifemale friendship and alliancefl in the late-seventeenth- and early-eighteenth-ce nturies, Amanda Herbert notes that period conceptions of caritas both recognize social inequality among members within a community of 203 See Tiptoft, sig. C4r. 233 women and simultaneously encourage ethical and pol itical participation from all its members: fiin the family of Christian believers not ever yone was equal, but they didn™t need be. By embracing caritas, or charity, followers of Christ we re prompted to love one another despite their differences and inequalities and to beneficently and charitably offer succor to all members of the Christian communityfl (26). However, as Lanyer demonstrates in Salve Deus and more poignantly in fiDescription of Cook-ham,fl the extent of fisuccor to all member s of the Christian communityfl nonetheless tends to be compromised by differences in class hi erarchy. Indeed, she opens fiCook-hamfl with a fiFarewellfl to Margaret and lamentation how she sh all never return to the estate because, as she hints and later elucidates, due to class differences: Farewell (sweet Cook-ham) where I first obtain™d Grace from that Grace where perfit Grace remain™d; – / Farewell (sweet Place) wher e virtue then did rest, And all delights did harbor in her breast; Never shall my sad eies again behold Those pleasures which my thought s then did unfold: (lines 1-10) Noting that the favor of Margaret (the first of two fiGrace[s]fl), whom sh e characterizes as an example of fiperfit Gracefl and virtue, did permit her entrance to Cook-ham, that place that inspired her to write Salve Deus, Lanyer laments her departure, now tantamount to exclusion, from the stately Cook-ham. Indeed Lanyer rein forces how fiNever shall my sad eies again beholdfl Cook-ham through the observation that her time with Margaret and Anne is a never-to- be-repeated experience: fiVouchsafe to thinke up on those pleasures past, / As fleeting worldy 234 Joyes that could not la st: / Or, as dimme shadowes of cel estiall pleasures, / Which are desir™d above all earthly treasuresfl (lines 13-16). Li kewise, Lanyer centers her lamentation that friendship with Anne is short-lived due to differences in social standing, itself characterized as a product of arbitrary circumstances rather than a testament to suppos ed deficiencies in virtue: And yet it grieves me that I cannot be Neere unto her,– – / Unconstant fortune, thou art most to blame, Where our great friends we cannot dayly see, So great a difference is there in degree. – Nearer in show, yet farther off in love, In which, the lowest alwayes are above. (lines 99-111) As Lanyer makes painfully clear in this excerp t, fiUnconstant Fortune,fl or the circumstances beyond her control and fidifference[s]–in degreefl or social standing are what contribute the most to dissolutions of friendship and Cook- ham™s concord. Indeed, Lanyer observes how she cannot be friends with Anne b ecause of class hierarchies, a lthough both are equal in virtue. Furthermore, she notes, somewhat bitterly, the lack of re ciprocity of affection between friends of disparate social standing; indeed, Lanyer conclude s this passage with a couplet that contends those of lower standing display an affection to their superiors that is rarely returned due to hierarchies. As Lanyer proceeds to note her fadi ng friendships with Margaret and Anne, as well as access to Cook-ham, she again invokes class di fferences as the primary reason a once unified community of women now dissolves. Indeed, in a manner reminiscent of the proverb fifriendship extends even beyond death,fl where death might se parate two bodies but not their love, Lanyer 235 employs images of a dying Cook-ham fiDrowned in dead sleepfl (line 190). However, as the final lines of the poem suggests, class differences, ra ther than death, separates her from friends: To our last words, did now for sorrow die: The house cast off each garment that might grace it, Putting on Dust and Cobwebs to deface it. – / This last farewell to Cook-ham here I give, When I am dead, thy name in this may live, Wherein I have perform™d her noble hest, Whose virtues lodge in my unworthy breast, And ever shall, so long as life remaines, Tying my heart to her by thos e rich chaines. (lines 200-210) fiModest sensuresfl As I have sought to demonstrate in this chapter, the themes of self-knowledge, temperance, and duty discussed in chapters on e through three resona te throughout Lanyer™s poems. Indeed, the import of self -reflection and consciousness cen tral to the era discussed in chapter one, and succinctly embodied by the phrase nosce teipsum (that is, the Delphic command to ‚know thyself™), appears in Lanyer as an appeal for women to be cons cious of their inward self as well as the inherent bias of male-centered interpretations of the Fall. For instance, Lanyer claims in fiTo the Vertuous Readerfl that her po em, along with fithe modest sensures of bothfl female and male Christians who promote such faulty interpretations, will enable readers to become more aware of their interior conditi on as well as improve upon it: fiTo the modest sensures of both which, I refer these my imperfect indeavours, knowing that according to their 236 own excellent dispositions, they will rather cherish, nourish, and increase the least sparke of virtue where they find it, by their favorable an d best interpretations, than quench it by wrong constructionsfl (50). Likewise, the realization of nosce teipsum in the practice of consciously forming the self as a moral being manifests in Lanyer through her advice on how women should conduct themselves virtuously and model their behavior after many of the strong females in the Bible. Not only does the poem suggest that women tame their passions through the cultivation of wisdom Œ fiWho is more wise? or who can be more sage, / Than she that doth Affection subject bringfl Œ but it implores consta ncy and abstinence from slander and selfishness, opting rather for frank speech and the practice of caritas, or friendship firooted in love of God and neighbor,fl to quote von Heyking and Avramenko (lines 171-172; 6-7). The poem also includes exempla of fipower[ful and]–wise and virtuous womenfl for r eaders to emulate in caring for the self Œ fiheere take you a view of those, / Whose worthy steps you doe de sire to treadfl Œ among which Lanyer identifies as Hester, Deborah, Judith, and, perhaps most famously, Pontius Pilate™s wife (49 lines 32). A reoccurring motif in Lanyer™s de piction of these women is their courage to challenge male tyranny through a host of fi noble acts,fl among which she includes fispeaking truth according to God™s wordfl (line 1820). In nu merous instances, for example Pilate™s wife, women speak frankly in an attempt to convince the other to improve his moral being and conscience, thus echoing central themes of the prev ious chapter, particularly the role of criticism and demand for one fito change his life,fl as Foucault summarizes the defining trait of parrhsia. More important, throughout Salve Deus frank speech is employed to address a fundamental problem associated with parrhsia and, more generally, friendship: tyranny. Indeed, male tyranny is a recurrent theme in the Salve Deus, and at one point in the middle of the Passion, Pilate™s wife forcefully inquires (and which I unpack at length below): fiThen let us have our 237 Libertie againe, / And challendge [or claim] to your selves no Sov™raignte; / You came not in the world without our paine, / Make that a barre ag ainst your crultie; Your fault being greater, why should you disdaine / Our being your equals , free from tyranny? fl (lines 825-830). Moreover, given that early modern frie ndship discourse, as noted in through this dissertation, envisions friendship and the care of the self as the microcosm of politics, even as it simultaneously claims it to be a private and a political affair available only to men, Lanyer™s poetry complicates this myth through her emph asis on a friendship between women that is undoubtedly political, however vexed it may be by i ssues of class disparity. As such, her poetry aids substantially in an examin ation of friendship as it pertains to women and, more generally, political subjecthood. Indeed, she uses friends hip to acknowledge a community of women brought together through the love of Christ and comprised not only of patronesses, but, of readers of the gentry, middling-sort, and, if we are to believe her rhetoric in the Salve Deus, those fiof the meaner sortfl (4 line 50). She depi cts this community as gr ound in the cultivation of a Christian ethos, and uses her dedications along with the poem Salve Deus, to instruct women how to fiin Virtue spend / Your precious time to beautifie your soulesfl (12 lines 1-2). Lanyer™s advice to care for the self extends to both the formation of one™s moral being as well as one™s political being, a sentiment which is emphasized through the rich image of a polit y of the self and others in her counsel fiTo overcome all thought s that would defile / The earthly circuit of your soules faire landsfl (14 lines 38-39). Lanyer likewise de monstrates how community and friendship are positively political and public, as evinced by her discussion of Christian spirituality, and, more specifically, false charges against Eve, and subsequently all women, for bringing the downfall of man due to her alleged weakness: fiwhy are poore Women blam™d, / Or by more faultie Men so much defa m™d?fl ( 6 line 77-78). In examin ing the spiritual and political 238 ramifications for women gathered under fiThat mightie Monarch both of heav™n and earth,fl Lanyer makes a case for active female political and ethical participation th at has primarily been denied to women based on what sh e construes as faulty readings of the Old and New Testaments along with miscellaneous apoc ryphal books (5 line 44). The inclusion of Lanyer and other fiJudith Shakespeares,fl to borrow a phrase from Virginia Woolf, likewise expands our understandi ng of early modern friendship discourse and illuminates what Mendelson and Crawford, in re ference to female friendships of the long eighteenth-century, refer to as fi‚ female consciousness,™ [or] an awareness of themselves as a social entity distinct from me nfl (qtd in Woods ix; 231). While the term fifemale consciousnessfl may dangerously appear to essentialize women, in sofar as it flattens any nuance or difference between women based on social rank, religion, age, and historical-cultura l locations, the term, nonetheless, proves useful for thinking about how women negotiate, challenge, or respond to cultural assumptions foisted upon them by men dur ing the period. In terms of Lanyer, fifemale consciousnessfl makes a variety of appearances in her poetry, among which may be included the opening lines of the first of many dedications in the Salve Deus (in this instance, to Queen Anne), where she requests her patronesses to w illingly entertain or fiVouchsafe to view that which is seldome seen, / A Woman™s writing of di vinest thingsfl (3 line 3-4). fiEves Apologie,fl a shorter poem embedded in the Salve Deus, is an example of fifemale consciousnessfl on a scale broader than Lanyer™s acknowledgment of the appa rent oddity of a woman engaged in such a masculine enterprise as publishing in print. 204 Indeed, the fiApologie,fl which as Lanyer indicates in the dedication fiTo the Vertuous Reader ,fl is to redeem the perceived culpability of 204 See Wall, 1-22, for a discussion of writing as gendered. 239 Eve for the Fall so as fito inforce all good Ch ristians and honourable minded men to speake reverently of our sexe, and especially of all virtuous and good womenfl (50 lines 54-56). Likewise, Lanyer™s presentation of the Salve Deus, including the dedications, fiThe Description to Cooke-ham,fl and the postscript, fiTo the doubtfull Reader,fl frames the work in its entirety as a commentary on the need for woman™s political and ethical agency to be recognized by men. Moreover, her invocation of divine inspiration in fiTo th e doubtfull Reader,fl particularly that she fiwas appointed to performe this Worke,fl pres ents this commentary and demand for political subjecthood as both a concern of women and G od (139). As such, the text, as Barbara K. Lewalski astutely observes, demonstrates, on the one hand, how the Salve Deus is ficonceived as a Book of Good Women [that] imagin[es] a female community sharply distinguished from male society and its evils that reaches from Eve to contemporary Jacobean patronesses,fl while on the other hand, the its positions women squarely wi thin the society of me n (fiDiscoursesfl 49). 240 Afterword: fiMany souls, so to speak, b ecome onefl: Friendship is the Commonwealth Throughout this dissertation, I have demonstr ated how reading early modern literature and culture through the lens of friendship (and vice versa) enriches our understanding of the social and political facets of the era. Despite the insistence among contemporary scholars, such as Tom MacFaul, that friendship is an intimate and private affair fiultimately independent of the public sphere,fl early modern frie ndship discourse almost consiste ntly characterizes it as the unifying force of community and the guardian of its integrity (6). Cicero™ s contention that fithe essence of friendship, consists in the fact that many souls, so to speak, become onefl underscores this intersection of friendship with domestic and political arrangements, among which the form and function of the commonwealth is paramount. Friendship ultimately concerns itself, as I have argued, with how the self relates to the law (understood broadly to encompass a share d, moral code which supposedly promotes the common good, rather than a discre te body of law such as the common law) and how they put it into practice. Thus, an emphasis in friendship discourse and practice on self-knowledge and duty, meditation and self-regulation, convi ction and responsibility, and pr ivate relationships and social concord, illuminate the necessity to harness friendship to a higher cause once work on the self is well underway. Moreover, period conceptions of fr iendship demonstrate that the formation of figoodfl and fidutifulfl do not proceed without cognitive, moral, and emotional struggles, particularly, as regards indifferen ce, selfishness, flattery, and resent ment. It is my hope that this dissertation not only encourages early modern scholars to reeval uate friendship discourse and practice as it intersects with texts on the body politic and comm onwealth, but, equally important, that it illuminates how Foucault™s notion of the care of the self has the potential to produce rich (re)readings of texts and contexts which seem firmly established. 241 A recurring motif in early modern friends hip discourse centers on the belief that the commonwealth can be managed at th e site of the self. According to this narrative, friendship, as an fiethical heuristic,fl simultaneously instructs how to form the self as an ethical and political subject. However, this study al so raises many questions that merit consideration in future research on early modern friendship. For instance , why is friendship everywhere in early modern literature and culture? How might its redeployment in a variety of cultural milieus signal a larger problem lurking beneath the idealized fiOne soul in bodies twainfl? How is friendship linked to early modern discourses of civility and courtesy? Nostalgia surfaces at the center of all of these questions (for the family, the court, social practices and rituals, et c.) and stagings of friendship in early modern culture. Moreover, viewing early modern friendship discour se as inextricably linked with nostalgia and civility also pushes back against the almost strictly mentalities reading of my project. While I firmly believe that the er a envisions the care of the self as the central focus of friendship (a focus whic h it inherits from the classical antecedents), I have not fully considered the richer dimensions of friendship as reflected in the politi cal practices and social realities of the era. It is my hope that future scholars will consider a few of these questions and concerns in their own explorations of such a fa scinating and complicated subject as friendship. 242 WORKS CITED243 WORKS CITED Achilleos, Stella. fiFriendship and Good Counsel: Th e Discourse of Friendship and Parrhesia in Francis Bacon™s The Essays or Counsels, Civill and Morall .fl Friendship in the Middle Ages and Early Modern Age: Explora tions of a Fundamental Ethical Discourse . Eds. Albrecht Classen and Marilyn Sandi dge. Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2010. Anderson, Penelope. fiThe Absent Female Friend: Recent Studies in Early Modern Women™s Friendship.fl Literature Compass 7.4 (2010): 243-253. Anonymous. fiA new song of a young mans opinion, of the difference between a good and bad Women.fl London: 1618. ---. fiHow the Devill, though subtle, was guld by a Scold.fl London: 1619. Aristotle. 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