WHY THE GREATEST POET EVER
CHOSE THE MYTH OF THE PHOENIX
IN WHICH TO HIDE THE TRUTH OF HIS IDENTITY
(A Full Drama in Onely OnE Scene)
© Elwood
LeRoy Miller, February 18, 2016
“The
name Phoenix Nest is clever.
Possibly, it was suggested by a phrase in "The countess of Pembroke's
Love," a poem that concludes Breton's The Pilgrimage to Paradise (1592)
and that speaks at some length of the phoenix, one passage ending:
Oh
let my soule, beseech her sacred nest.
But
in the ashes of the Phoenix nest. . .”
Introduction: The Phoenix Nest, H.E. Rollins, 1930
[“Love”
credited to Lord Oxford, by ELM, 2004]
SCENE OnE:
[Scene Opens: Somewhere,
where there is only a huge cloudy whitish grey dream-mist, a very small image
of a person in black, at the very edge of the mist, nothing more. Light fades,
comes on slowly, voice-over as lights come on]
PROLOG:
Now we turn
to our heart-crushing tale,
The True
sufferings of the Greatest Poet Ever,
Whom, Extreme
Fate, cruelly cause ‘d to suffer
Banishment
from History! The History we Hail!
IO! IO!
should be his rightful honor’s call!
But, on we
now to matter’s hereto sounded
Whereby we
bring you this, our brief tale,
Wherewith we
hope to have, at our owne will,
The very
truth of the matter impounded.
(Scene OnE: Assembly
of Muses, gracefully gathered about; only one of them speaks, and is called
“The Court,” but scene very informal. The Attorney speaker to the Court, is nonetheless, appropriately formal)
Atty: Your Honor, the Phoenix code has been broken,
And, in
advance of any claims now registered, or others that may occur, as counsel to Poet,
Defendant, Edward de Vere . . .
The Court: O, no! Is this that Cipher business?
Atty: (awkwardly
stumbling for words) What I was hoping to stave off, is what. . .
The Court: (impatiently): What is it that you want from us, counsel? (Atty
shuffles through papers; more stridently) You can’t answer that question,
Counsel?
Atty: (coming up from his paper) The problem is
simply this: Did Lord Oxford violate his Poet’s Honor by encoding his own
Phoenix name cipher in praise of the Great Sidney, or other? Did he, by using his name codes even in (or
especially, some would say) elegies and epitaphs of his own praise to England’s
most praiseworthy poets—to serve the purpose of his own name—he, who it was
decreed, would have no name—
The
Court: The point is made. There is no
action ‘gainst Lord Oxford, pending, that I know of. But, proceed
Atty: We seek injunctive relief against any action
that may evolve. For, Lord Oxford is not
responsible for any of the fraud that followed on—and has continued long after.
. .
The
Court: We’ll deal with one thing at a
time, if you, please.
Atty: Very well, your Honor. One of the main
issues, it appears, has to do with Sir Philip Sidney. Immediately after the
death of the “Phoenix”—as Sir Sidney is directly referred to—in LO’s Elegy to
Sidney, he writes these words:
The general
sorrow that was made
Among the
creatures of kinde
Fired the Phoenix
where she laid,
Her ashes
flying with the winde,
So as I might with reason see,
That such a Phoenix nere should be.
Indeed, but
now: in the next stanza, may it be noted
by The Court, an observation that my client makes:
Haply the
cinders, driven about,
May breede
an offspring neere that kinde,
But hardly a
peer to that, I doubt;
It cannot
sinke into my minde,
That under branches ere can bee
Of worth and value as the tree.
Note, what
is in the poet’s mind. He is wondering if the cinders of the dead Phoenix
Sidney might “breede an offspring neere that kinde”? And, instantly after, he also observes, one
may say, self-consciously, that there aren’t any peers about for that—or so it
seems. And it can’t “sink into mind”
that there could be one of the same “kind.” That is to say a great poet of
Universal standing, that could come from his peers.
The Court: Come, come! What’s the point of all of this?
It’s a lovely day
Atty: Your Honor, the charge may be made that Lord
Oxford, by using the honored memories of England’s greatest dead, demeaned the
art of which he was acknowledged Master, to further his own fame into history.
The
Court: What’s wrong with that if he did?
So we say, at most, “for shame,” what other remedy, by what other name?
I see no
meritorious action to be filed against LO.
Atty: The point is, your Honor, the Phoenix, as Sir
Sidney himself was, is Said to have been “slaine”—he was killed, he didn’t just
die. And LO was saying, too, he, too,
his name, didn’t just die, it was killed! So, you perhaps can see why I. . .
The Court: I begin to suspect you worry about history. . Again,
what is the point?
Atty: In the Elegy, EO, first wants to establish
that Sidney himself in his own poem said that the Phoenix was “slaine.” And my
LO was simply making the analogy, and insisting on it, that his case is the
same. Please, a moment more. Immediately
after the stanza just said, we have:
“The egel
markt with pearcing sight
The
mournfull habite of the place,
And parted
then with mounting flight,
To signify
to Jove the case, [Jove = “Iove,” in orig.]
What sorrow
Nature doth sustaine
For
Astrophill by envie slaine.”
So, too, it
is written, the key is this (continues reading):
“And that
which was of woonder most
The Phoenix
left sweet Arabie,
And on a
cedar in this coast
Built up her
tombe of spicerie,
As I conjuecture by the same,
Preparede to take her dying flame.”
The Court:
(sarcastically) Is there a plot to this story?
Atty: (with
a big sigh) Indeed! Exactly, Your Honor!
You hit it on the head. It follows just so. Anyone now can see what’s going on.
Please, listen (continuing to read):
In the midst
and center of this plot,
[he tells
the cipher center of his plot]
I saw OnE
groveling on the grasse:
A man or stOnE,
I knew not that:
No stOnE: of
man the figure was,
And yet I could not count him OnE,
More than the image made of stOnE
The Court:
Heaven Help Us All! I have the feeling, sir, you have a long story, here for de
Vere, but, best tell you now, I’ve no taste for it. Make your point and be
done.
Atty:
Simply, now that the code is broken, it’s clear for all to see, who can extract
an “n” from a one; or add on front of one and “n” to get to “none,”, and,
thereby extinction, to still be OnE, just as the PhOEnix and the Sun.
And, if I
might add, Lord Oxford made no contract with anyone that he would not put codes
in his poems; poetry, I need not remind this court, is “code” from the
beginning!
The Court:
So noted.
Atty: And,
finally, Lord Oxford affirmatively declares (rather, I, on his behalf) that the
fraud perpetuated against him to ensure his Banishment from History, the truth
of his imprisonment, and Queen Elizabeth’s insanity—and the long history to
conceal it, all this, is now open to Discovery! That’s why I’m here: As to Lord
Oxford’s name: “A man’s murder may be concealed, but one day it’ll be undone.”
Even if the Queen of England has to pay, and all your corruptions, which last
even to this day.
The Court: We have no more to say. History is history,
regardless the truth and all the lies at play. In Veritas, Veritas! We’ll with
that, whatever others say. Good Day!
Scene One finis
NOTES &
APPENDIX
Note: All
Phoenix capital P, not as Cambridge has it, in 1595, but in the original The
Phoenix Nest! Also, Cambridge has capital K for kinde, lower case, as in The Phoenix
Nest, 1593.
“The name Phoenix Nest is clever. Possibly, it was suggested by a phrase in
"The countess of Pembroke's Love," a poem that concludes Breton's The
Pilgrimage to Paradise (1592) and that speaks at some length of the
phoenix, one passage ending:
Oh let my soule, beseech her sacred nest.
But in the ashes of the Phoenix nest.
Perhaps, too, in a fashion Sir Philip
Sidney was connected with the phenix. .
..”
ABOVE, "The Phonenix Nest, 1593"
by Hyder Edward Rollins, Introduction, p. x.
ELM copyrighted (Jan. 1/17/2016) the claim
that the poem “Love” was written by Lord Oxford.