Dr. Prinsky
Engl. 3002

N & Q on Marlowe's "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love"

1. Not only did Marlowe's "Passionate Shepherd to His Love" evoke Ralegh's "Nymph's Reply" and John Donne's "The Bait" (cf. both in NAEL), but e.e. cummings' "come, gaze with me upon this dome" (which also alludes to a famous poem by English Romantic poet P.B. Shelley), C. Day Lewis's "Song: 'Come Live with Me'," and Ogden Nash's "Love Under the Republicans (or Democrats)." Many of the reply poems introduce the element of social criticism; what in Marlowe's poem evokes or provokes this response?

2. (a) Why is the repetition, virtually a refrain, in lines 1, 20, and 24, appropriate to a lover speaking to his intended? What has rhetoric or persuasion to do with love? In our time, as well as in the English Renaissance? (b) How does the poem exemplify the pastoral* genre? Why is pastoral an appropriate genre for a lover's persuasive purposes? What intentionally nonrealistic elements does the speaker introduce, indicating that he and his auditor aren't ordinary shepherds? How are these nonrealistic elements appropriate in the speaker's strategy or persuasion? (c) Where in the poem does the imagery fuse art and nature (cf. the comments in the section on art and nature in the NAEL intro to sixteenth century literature), and for what persuasive purpose or purposes? (d) How does the speaker in his imagery symbolically fuse his beloved intended with the landscape, and for what persuasive purpose or purposes?

3. (a) How does the speaker create a sort of timelessness in the poem, and how is this creation appropriate for amorous persuasion? (b) How is the timelessness of the poem an ironic contrast to Marlowe's life? (c) How are the couplets used in the rhyme scheme as well as generally iambic pattern appropriate to the poem's content? (d) The pun on posies (10) is frequent in English Renaissance poetry: (a) bouquet(s); (b) poems (cf. poesies); (c) amorous inscription on the inside of a ring given by one romantic partner to another (such rings are still available, though often the inscription is on the outside); how does this pun work in this poem? (e) How do assonance*, alliteration*, and euphony* occur in line 8? With what thematic appropriateness? (f) How does the alliteration on s (sibilance*, sigmatism*) help express or describe the content of the second quatrain? (g) How do we know that the NAEL editors (or proofreaders) have slipped up in not providing a diacritical mark to indicate that lined in line 15 should be disyllabic?

4. As noted previously, besides the answers by Sir Walter Ralegh ("The Nymph's Reply") and John Donne ("The Bait"), Marlowe's poem has continued to evoke poetic responses, down to the present day. Compare and contrast the following answers with Ralegh's "The Nymph's Reply," as well as the object of their satire, Marlowe's "Passionate Shepherd to His Love."

Henry Austin Dobson (1840-1921), "The Passionate Printer to His Love"

Come live with me and be my Dear;
And till that happy bond shall lapse,
I'll set your Poutings in Brevier ,
Your Praises in the largest CAPS.

There's Diamond —'tis for your Eyes;
There's Ruby —that will match your Lips;
Pearl , for your Teeth; and Minion -size
To suit your dainty Finger-tips.

In Nonpareil I'll put your Face;
In Rubric shall your Blushes rise;
There is no Bourgeois in your Case ;
Your Form can never need ‘ Revise .’

Your Cheeks seem ‘ Ready for the Press ’;
Your Laugh as Clarendon is clear;
There's more distinction in your Dress
Than in the oldest Elzevir .

So with me live, and with me die;
And may no ‘Finis ’ e'er intrude
To break into mere ‘ Printers' Pie ’
The Type of our Beatitude!

(Erratum .— If my suit you flout,
And choose some happier Youth to wed,
'Tis but to cross Amanda out,
And read another name instead.)

-- Amandus Typographicus .


Ogden Nash (1902-1971), "Love Under the Republicans (or Democrats)" (1931)

Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of a marriage conducted with economy
In the Twentieth Century Anno Donomy.

We'll live in a dear little walk-up flat

With practically room to swing a cat
And a potted cactus to give it hauteur
And a bathtub equipped with dark brown water.

We'll eat, without undue discouragement,

Foods low in cost but high in nouragement
And quaff with pleasure, while chatting wittily,
The peculiar wine of Little Italy.

We'll remind each other it's smart to be thrifty

And buy ojur clothes for something-fifty.
We'll stand in line on holidays
For seats at unpopular matinees,

And every Sunday we'll have a lark

and take a walk in Central Park.
And one of these days not too remote
I'll probably up and cut your throat.

C[ecil]. Day Lewis (1904-1972), "Song" (1935)

Come, live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
Of peace and plenty, bed and board
That chance employment may afford.

I'll handle dainties on the docks
And thou shalt read of summer frocks:
At evening by the sour canals
We'll hope to hear some madrigals.

Care on thy maiden brow shall put
A wreath of wrinkles, and thy foot
Be shod with pain: not silken dress
But toil shall tire thy loveliness.

Hunger shall make thy modest zone
And cheat fond death of all but bone--
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997), "A Further Proposal" (1947)

Come live with me and be my love,
And we will some old pleasures prove.
Men like me have paid in verse
This costly courtesy, or curse.

But I would bargain with my art
(As to the mind, now to the heart),
My symbols, images, and signs
Please me more outside these lines.

For your share and recompense,
You will be taught another sense:
The wisdom of the subtle worm
Will turn most perfect in your form.

Not that your soul need tutored be
By intellectual decree,
But graces that the mind can share
Will make you, as more wise, more fair,

Till all the world's devoted thought
Find all in you it ever sought,
And even I, of skeptic mind,
A Resurrection of a kind.

This compliment, in my own way,
For what I would receive, I pay;
Thus all the wise have writ thereof,
And all the fair have been their love.


Paul Engle (1908-1991), "A Modern Romance" (c. 1959)

Come live with me and be my wife
And we will lead a packaged life,
Where food, drink, fun, all things save pain
Come neatly wrapped in cellophane.

I am the All-American boy,
Certified as fit for joy,
Elected (best of all the breed)
Hairline most likely to recede.
My parchment scroll to verify
Is stamped in gold and witnessed by
Secretary-Treasurer of
Americans Hundred Per Cent For Love.

You are the All-American girl,
Red toe to artificial curl,
Who passed all tests from skipping rope
And using only Cuddly Soap
To making fire in any weather
By rubbing boy and girl together.

We are the nation's nicest team,
Madison Avenue's magic scheme
To show how boy gets girl: my style
Succeeds by using Denta-Smile.

How merchandised that ceremony!
The minister was scrubbed and bony,
And all was sterile in that room
Except, one hoped, the eager groom.

Married, with advertising's blessing,
We can begin togethernessing.
Before I carry you, my bride,
Across the threshold and inside,
I'll take, to help my milk-fed bones,
Vitamins, minerals and hormones.

Now look how quickly I have fixed
A dry martini (ready-mixed).
So drink to our day, consecrated,
In chairs of leather, simulated.
While you are changing out of those
Nylon, dacron, rayon clothes,
I cook the dinner, without fail
Proving a real American male,
Humble, without too much endurance,
But lots of paid-up life insurance.

From the deep-freeze, to please your wish,
A TV dinner in its dish,
All ready-seasoned, heat it up.
Pour instant water in this cup
On instant coffee from a can.
Be proud, love, of your instant man.
Innocent food, mechanized manna
(Except the delicate banana),
Can you endure -- forgive the question --
The messy horrors of digestion?

Even our love is pasteurized,
Our gentle hope homogenized.

And now our pure, hygienic night.
To our voluptuous delight
Your hair is up, restraints are down,
And cream is patted on your frown.
The brand-name mattress on the bed
Is wrapped in paper like fresh bread.
We can, to make our own campfire,
Turn the electric blanket higher.
We will cry, Darling, I do care,
In chastely air-conditioned air.

We've read the books, know what to do,
By science, wife, I offer you
This helpful, vacuum-packed, live nerve
(Just add devotion, dear, and serve).
Hurry! Out back I seem to hear
The landlord's Plymouth prowling near.

If this efficient plan produces
By chance (those awful natural juices!)
That product of a thousand uses,
A Junior, wrapped in elastic
Inexpensive bag of plastic
(Just break the seal and throw away)
From antiseptic throats we'll say:
It was an All-American day.


Peter De Vries (1910-1993), "Bacchanal" (1959)

"Come live with me and be my love,"
He said, in substance. "There's no vine
We will not pluck the clusters of,
Or grape we will not turn to wine."

It's autumn of their second year.
Now he, in seasonal pursuit,
With rich and modulated cheer,
Brings home the festive purple fruit;

And she, by passion once demented
-- That woman out of Botticelli --
She brews and bottles, unfermented,
The stupid and abiding jelly.

 

Delmore Schwartz (1913 - 1966), "The Passionate Shepherd to His Love"

Come live with me and be my wife,
We'll seek the peaks and pits of life
And run the gauntlet of the heart
On mountains or the depths of art.
We'll do the most that thinking can
Against emotion's Ghenghis Khan.
And we will play on Hallowe'en
Like all souls on the silver screen,
Or at a masked ball ask for fun
Dancing dressed as monk and nun.
We'll ride a solemn music's boat
When humors cough in breast and throat.
When snow comes like a sailing fleet
We'll skate a ballet in the street,
Though poor as saints or rocks, immense
Our chatter's rich irreverence.
And sometimes speak of endless death
To quicken ever conscious breath.
If one becomes too serious,
The other can bring down the house
With jokes which seem hilarious
About the self's pretentious Ows.
I'll be your room-mate and your hoax,
The scapeghost of your gentle jokes.
Like Moliere's boureois gentleman,
You may discover you have been
Speaking blank verse all your life,
And hence you must become my wife.
For you will know of metaphors,
If I say aeroplanes are bores.
If these excursions seem to you
Interesting as a rendezvous,
Rich as cake and revenue,
Handsome as hope and as untrue,
And full of travel's points of view,
Vivid as red and fresh as dew,
Come live with me and try my life,
And be my night, my warmth, my wife.

 

Thomas McGrath (1916-1990), "War Resister’s Song" (1985)

Come live with me and be my love
And we will all the pleasures prove --
Or such as presidents may spare
Within the decorum of Total War.

By bosky glades, by babbling streams
(Babbling of Fission, His remains)
We discover happiness' isotope
And live the half-life of our hope.

While Geiger counters sweetly click
In concentration camps we'll fuck.
Called traitors? That's but sticks and stones
We've Strontium 90 in our bones!

And thus, adjusted to our lot,
Our kisses will be doubly hot --
Fornicating (like good machines)
We'll try the chances of our genes.

So (if Insufficient Grace
Hath not fouled thy secret place
Nor fall-out burnt my balls away)
Who knows? but we may get a boy --

Some paragon with but one head
And no more brains than is allowed;
And between his legs, where once was love,
Monsters to pack the future with.