face of my deformed cares
With withered brows all wrinkled with despairs;

and a little later (No. xliii. of the 1599 edition) he repeated how

Age rules my lines with wrinkles in my face.

All these lines are echoes of Petrarch, and Shakespeare and Drayton
followed the Italian master's words more closely than their
contemporaries. Cf. Petrarch's Sonnet cxliii. (to Laura alive), or
Sonnet lxxxi. (to Laura after death); the latter begins:

Dicemi spesso il mio fidato speglio,
L'animo stanco e la cangiata scorza
E la scemata mia destrezza e forza:
Non ti nasconder piu: tu se' pur veglio.

(_i.e._ 'My faithful glass, my weary spirit and my wrinkled skin, and my
decaying wit and strength repeatedly tell me: "It cannot longer be hidden
from you, you are old."')

{88} The Sonnets of Sidney, Watson, Daniel, and Constable long
circulated in manuscript, and suffered much the same fate as
Shakespeare's at the hands of piratical publishers. After circulating
many years in manuscript, Sidney's Sonnets were published in 1591 by an
irresponsible trader, Thomas Newman, who in his self-advertising
dedication wrote of the collection that it had been widely 'spread abroad
in written copies,' and had 'gathered much corruption by ill writers'
[i.e. copyists]. Constable produced in 1592 a collection of twenty
sonnets in a volume which he entitled 'Diana.' This was an authorised
publication. But in 1594 a printer and a publisher, without Constable's
knowledge or sanction, reprinted these sonnets and scattered them through
a volume of nearly eighty miscellaneous sonnets by Sidney and many other
hands; the adventurous publishers bestowed on their medley the title of
'Diana,' which Constable had distinctively attached to his own
collection. Daniel suffered in much the same way. See Appendix IX. for
further notes on the subject. Proofs of the commonness of the habit of
circulating literature in manuscript abound. Fulke Greville, writing to
Sidney's father-in-law, Sir Francis Walsingham, in 1587, expressed regret
that uncorrected manuscript copies of the then unprinted _Arcadia_ were
'so common.' In 1591 Gabriel Cawood, the publisher of Robert Southwell's
_Mary Magdalen's Funeral Tears_, wrote that manuscript copies of the work
had long flown about 'fast and false.' Nash, in the preface to his
_Terrors of the Night_, 1594, described how a copy of that essay, which a
friend had 'wrested' from him, h