Barnabe Barnes (–1609)

Barnabe Barnes - [Parthenophil and Parthenophe]: Sonnets, madrigals, elegies and odes.
This collection of Elizabethan love poetry first appeared in 1593 in a small private print run and were anonymous. They were reprinted subsequently under the name of the poet Barnabe Barnes. It is a large and varied collection of poems containing 105 sonnets, 21 elegies, 21 odes, 26 madrigals, 3 canzones, 5 sestinas, and an eidillion. The variety is in their form not their subject matter. They are love poems following the example set by the Italian renaissance poet Petrarch. They are poems of unrequited love and were closely connected with the idea of courtly love. However Barnes was not a courtier in the traditional sense, merely a gentleman which might account for the final couple of poems in the sequence where the lover Parthenophil in desperation tricks Parthenophe into love making that would be construed as rape.

There are an awful lot of poems and they are presented without much narrative thread. The sonnets take up much of the first part of the collection interspersed with some madrigals. Parthenophil as the poet/speaker is enamoured by Laya, but in sonnet five she takes up with a courtier and Parthenophil is able to escape away to find Parthenophe, who at first is pleased to see him, but by sonnet 9 he is already complaining:

"Thus in her love She made me such hard measure"

The poems then fall into the well worn track of the poet praising his loves beauties and also becoming increasingly frustrated because she seems to pay him less and less attention. There are then some sequences of sonnet/complaints: one particular set uses the signs of the zodiac, another the power of his loved ones eyes, there are many poems describing his hot passion and her cold reproof and many more on the sorrows of unrequited love. After sonnet 102 there are a sequence of elegies where new themes are introduced and the frustrated poet seems more inclined to plot his revenge, noting that his poems will be for all to see and will show the hardness of Parthenophe's heart

"And thine hard heart, thy beauty's shameful stain I
And that foul stain, thine endless infamy !
So, though Thou still in record do remain,
The records reckon but thine obloquy !
When on the paper, which my Passion bears,
Relenting readers, for my sake ! shed tears"

There then follows a series of odes and then some pastorals where the poet imagines himself in the innocent world of the shepherds.

There is a final sonnet, which underlines the action he will take in the final sestina where he will summon Hecate and her magic spells to kindle the passion in Parthenophe:

AH ME ! How many ways have I assayed,
To win my Mistress to my ceaseless suit !
What endless means and prayers have I made
To thy fair graces ! ever deaf and mute.
At thy long absence, like an errand page,
With sighs and tears, long journeys did I make
Through paths unknown, in tedious pilgrimage ;
And never slept, but always did awake
And having found Thee ruthless and unkind ;
Soft skinned, hard hearted ; sweet looks, void of pity;
Ten thousand furies raged in my mind,
Changing the tenour of my lovely Ditty;
By whose enchanting Saws and magic Spell, '
Thine hard, indurate heart, I must compel.

And the spells work a treat because:

'Tis now acquitted ! Cease your former tears !
For as She once, with rage my body kindled ;
So in hers, am I buried this night.

Barnaby Barnes is a poet who was not afraid to play with the more classical forms of poetry and so there are a number of fifteen line sonnets and his madrigals and odes take on a number of formats. The poetry cannot help but be a little repetitive and there are some quite dull examples here. Saying the same things that many of the Elizabethan soniteers were saying is not going to make for much originality of thought, but this was not the aim as I suspect that Barnes found his pleasure in tweaking with the formal structures. This is by no means essential, but if you like the Elizabethan sonneteers you can do worse than Barnes. 3.5 stars.

Sonnet LIX

AH ME ! sweet beauty lost, returns no more.
And how I fear mine heart fraught with disdain !
Despair of her disdain, casts doubt before ;
And makes me thus of mine heart's hope complain.
Ah, me ! nor mine heart's hope, nor help. Despair !
Avoid my Fancy ! Fancy's utter bane ! .;.
My woes' chief worker ! Cause of all my care !
Avoid my thoughts ! that Hope may me restore
To mine heart's heaven, and happiness again !
Ah, wilt thou not ? but still depress my thought !
Ah, Mistress ! if thy beauty, this hath wrought.
That proud disdainfulness shall in thee reign :
Yet, think ! when in thy forehead wrinkles be ;
Men will disdain thee, then, as thou dost me… (meer)