Reed can hardly be right, because Dryden's figure is that of a man grasping snow, which melts away in his hand. Montaigne and Sir Philip Sidney both use Webster's figure, and Webster was perfectly acquainted with both authors. It is also in Marston:—
This made the poison swell in her cankered breast, perceiving that, as in water, the more she grasped the less she held, &c.—'The Arcadia,' book iii.
It would be even as if one should go about to graspe the water: for, how much the more he shal close and presse that which by its owne nature is ever gliding, so much the more he shall loose what he would hold and fasten.—'Essays,' book ii. c. xii. p. 309, col. 1.
Crispinella. Once married, got up his head above, a stiff, crooked, nobby, inflexible tyrannous creature he grows; then they turn like water, more you would embrace the less you hold.—'The Dutch Courtezan,' III. i. 81-4.
Webster says that
women are more willingly and more gloriously chaste, when they are least restrained of their liberty.—'The White Devil,' 11. 192-4. p. 8, col. 1.
But Montaigne, who is arguing that a man should marry a rich woman rather than a poor one, declares that such a wife will be
more willingly and gloriously chaste, by how much fairer they are.—Book ii. c. viii. p. 198, col. 2.
Women are like curst dogs: civility keeps them tied all day-time, but they are let loose at midnight; then they do moat good, or most mischief.—'The White Devil,' 11. 320-3, p. 9, col. 2.
Note the word "civility"; it is the reading of the 1612 quarto; the quartos of 1631, 1665, and 1672 read "cruelty." This latter reading is borne out by Montaigne:—
Beleeve it, they [women] will have fire: Luxuria ipsis vinculis, sicut fera bestia, irritata deinde emissa: "Luxurie is like a wild beast, first made fiercer with tying, and then let loose. They must have the reynes given them a little."—Book iii. c. v. p. 450, col. 1.
It is cruelty, not civility, that keeps the beast tied up; and the object of this incivility is to make it more vicious when let loose. Montaigne argues for more freedom, not restraint.
Montaigne has a tilt at a certain class of scholars who delight in disputations and hair-splitting; and he selects for particular censure a Master of Arts. Deprive him, he says, of his gown, his Latin, and his Aristotle, and he will appear but a very ordinary man. His "implication and entangling of speech," which beguiles men, "may fitly be compared unto juglers' play of fast and loose" (book iii. c. viii. p. 473, col. 1). Compare the whole of the Conjurer's speech with Montaigne, especially the following:—
They'd make men think the devil were fast and loose,
With speaking fustian Latin.
Montaigne explains what "fast and loose" means, and he is responsible for the reference to the jugglers' Latin in Webster. In his admirable edition of 'The White Devil' and of 'The Duchess of Malfi,' recently published, Prof. Martin Sampson quotes Mr. W. J. Craig's note in Reginald Scot. Fast and loose "is a trick game with a handkerchief or belt, the point being that a knot or loop which seems tied fast is really loose." This is exactly the meaning of the phrase in Montaigne.
I will turn to Marston once more. Dulcimel wishes to impart a secret to Philocalia, but the latter is chary of being its guardian:
Philo. You may trust my silence: I can command that; but if I chance to be questioned I must speak truth: I can conceal, but not deny my knowledge. That must command me.
Dul. Fie on these philosophical discoursing women!—'The Fawn,' III. i. 183-7.
In other words, fie on Montaigne!
It is a paine for me to dissemble, so that I refuse to take charge of other men's secrets, as wanting hart to disavow my knowledge. I can conceale it; but deny it I cannot, without much ado and some trouble. To be perfectly secrete, one must be so by nature, not by obligation.—Book iii. c. v. p. 130, col. 1.
Hercules. Dear sleep and lust, I thank you; but for you,
Mortal till now I scarce had known myself.
Of course, this has reference to the well-known saying of Alexander the Great:—
Alexander said that he knew himselfe mortall chiefly by this action and by sleeping.—Book iii. c. v. p. 447, col. 1.
The saying forms No. 123 of Bacon's 'Apophthegms,' and it is quoted in 'The Advancement of Learning,' book i., and in the corresponding part of the 'De Augmentis.' It is very surprising to find what a number of Bacon's 'Apophthegms' are paralleled in Montaigne. The moral is that there was no need for Shakespeare or others to go to Bacon for certain matter, which has been paraded with a great blowing of trumpets.
In his 'Essay of Truth' Bacon says :—
There is no Vice, that doth so cover a Man with Shame, as to be found false, and perfidious. And therefore Mountaigny saith prettily, when he enquired the reason, why the word of the Lier should be such a Disgrace, and such an Odious Charge? Saith he, If it be well weighed, To say that a man lieth, is as much to say, as that he is brave towards God, and a Coward towards men. For a Lie faces God, and shrinkes from Man.
