Introduction

TO CELIA Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I'll not ask for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's[2] nectar[3] sup, I would not change for thine. I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe, And sent'st it back to me, Since when it grows and smells, I swear, Not of itself but thee! John Addington Symonds demonstrated in The Academy 16 (1884) that almost every line has its counterpart in “Epistle xxxiii” of the erotic love-letter Epistles of Philostratus, The Athenian.[4] Richard Cumberland had, however, identified the link to "an obscure collection of love-letters" by Philostratus as early as 1791.[5] George Burke Johnston noted that "the poem is not a translation, but a synthesis of scattered passages. Although only one conceit is not borrowed from Philostratus, the piece is a unified poem, and its glory is Jonson's. It has remained alive and popular for over three hundred years, and it is safe to say that no other work by Jonson is so well known."[6] Another classical strain in the poem derives from Catullus.[7] In a brief notice J. Gwyn Griffiths noted the similarity of the conceit of perfume given to the rosy wreath in a poem in the Greek Anthology[8] and other classical parallels could be attested, natural enough in a writer of as wide reading as Jonson. PHILOSTRATUS LETTERS Letter 2 – To a woman I have sent you a garland of roses, not to honour you (though I would fain do that as well), but to do a favour to the roses themselves, so that they may not wither. Letter 32 – Top a woman Your eyes are more translucent than drinking cups, so that even your soul can be seen through them; and the blush of your cheeks is lovelier than the colour of wine itself; and this linen dress of yours reflects the brilliance of your cheeks; and your lips are tinged with the blood of roses; and you seem to me to give men drink from your eyes as if your eyes were fountains, and therefore to be one of the Nymphs. How many men hastening on their way do you bring to a halt? How many men speeding by do you detain? How many do you call to yourself when you raise your voice? I first and foremost, when I see you, feel thirst, and against my will stand still, and hold the cup back; and I do not bring it to my lips, but I know that I am drinking of you. Letter 33 – To the same Cups are made of glass, but your hands turn them to silver and to gold – so that they too get their liquid glances from your eyes. But their limpidity is souless and unmoved, like that of standing waters, whereas the cups set in your face appear to give delight not merely by their general liquid loveliness but also by their showing that they know what kisses are. So set the cups down and leave them alone, especially for fear of their fragility; and drink to me only with your eyes; t'was such a draft that Zeus drank – and took to himself a lovely boy to bear his cup. And, if it please you, do not squander the wine, but pour in water only, and, bringing it to your lips, fill the cup with kisses and so pass it to the thirsty. Surely nobody is ignorant of love as to yearn for the gift of Dionysus any longer after the vines of Aphrodite. Letter 46 – To a boy You have done well to use the roses for a bed also; for pleasure in gifts received is a clear indication of regard for the sender. So through their agency I also touched you, for roses are amorous and artful and know how to make use of beauty. But I fear that they may actually have been restless and oppressed you in your sleep, even as the gold oppressed Danae. Of you wish to do a fovour for a lover, send back that is left of them, since they now breathe a fragrance, not of roses only, but also of you.