The golden age...
It’s not long after Wyatt (and others) have naturalised the sonnet in English that it becomes the mark of a cultured gentleman to be able to compose a well-turned fourteener. I think it’s at this point that the Italian ‘little song’ interbreeds with the Anglo-Saxon riddle, the octave-volta-sestet melding with the set-up-and-punchline architecture of the joke.
Here’s Sir Walter Raleigh - yes, that Sir Walter Raleigh - using the riddle, and its explanation, to warn his son against misbehaviour.
Sir Walter Raleigh to His Son
Three things there be that prosper up apace
And flourish, whilst they grow asunder far;
But on a day, they meet all in one place,
And when they meet, they one another mar.
And they be these: the wood, the weed, the wag.
The wood is that which makes the gallow tree;
The weed is that which strings the hangman's bag;
The wag, my pretty knave, betokeneth thee.
Mark well, dear boy, whilst these assemble not,
Green springs the tree, hemp grows, the wag is wild;
But when they meet, it makes the timber rot,
It frets the halter, and it chokes the child.
Then bless thee, and beware, and let us pray
We part not with thee at this meeting day.
So … the rhyme scheme has evolved: abab cdcd efef gg. We come to know this as the Shakespearian sonnet (later, I promise…) But the octave and sestet are firmly established (‘Mark well…’) and the closing couplet shuts the puzzle-box like a rock drummer shutting down a song.
(In fact, some readers think the couplet here is a later addition to make the poem fit the form - you don’t really need it to get the dark joke.)
But the poem is clean and crisp and focused. It does what it says on the tin.
Not to be sniffed at.
These short bite-sized essayettes on the great fourteen-liners in English are part of an ongoing conversation with a friend. If you're interested, the earlier instalments are here, here and here.
Happy to take suggestions for future episodes...