Arcadia - Sir Philip Sidney Renaissance and Medieval Studies

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place,

      while in great men those restless longings rise

      that such low folks to visit much disdain,

      this while, though poor, they in themselves did reign.

      One day (ô day, that shined to make them dark!)

      while they did ward sun-beams with shady bay,

      (lest greedy eyes to them might challenge lay)

      busy with ocher did their shoulders mark

      (his mark a pillar was, devoid of stay,

      as bragging that, free of all passions’ moan,

      well might he others bear, but lean to none),

      Strephon with leafy twigs of laurel tree

      a garland made on temples for to wear,

      for he then chosen was the dignity

      of village lord, that Whitsuntide, to bear,

      and full poor fool, of boyish bravery,

      with triumph’s shows would show he nought did fear.

      But fore-accounting oft makes builders miss.

      For ere that either had his purpose done,

      behold (beholding well it doth deserve),

      to catch her sparrow, which from her did swerve,

      as she a black-silk cap on him begun

      to set, for foil of his milk-white to serve.

      She chirping ran, he peeping flew away,

      till hard by them, both he and she did stay.

      Well for to see, they kept themselves unseen

      and saw this fairest maid of fairer mind,

      by fortune mean, in nature born a queen,

      how well content she was her bird to find,

      how tenderly her tender hands between

      in ivory cage she did the micher bind;

      how rosy moistened lips about his beak

      moving, she seemed at once to kiss and speak.

      Chastened but thus, and thus his lesson taught,

      the happy wretch she put within her breast,

      which to their eyes the bowls of Venus brought,

      for they seemed made ev’n of sky-metal best,

      and that the bias by her blood was wrought.

      Between them two the peeper took his nest,

      where snuggling well, he well appeared content,

      so to have done amiss, so to be shent.

      This done, but done with captive-killing grace,

      each motion seeming shot from beauty’s bow,

      her length laid down, she decked the lovely place.

      Proud grew the grass that under her did grow.

      The trees spread out their arms to shade her face.

      But she on elbow leaned, with sighs did show

      no grass, no trees, nor yet her sparrow, might

      to long-perplexèd mind breed long delight.

      She troubled was (alas, what it might be!)

      with tedious brawlings of her parents dear,

      who would have her in will and word agree

      to wed Antáxius, their neighbor near.

      A herdman rich, of much account, was he

      in whom no ill did reign, nor good appear.

      In some such one she liked not his desire—

      fain would be free, but dreadeth parents’ ire.

      that baggèd baggage of a miser’s mud

      should price of her, as in a market, make.

      But gold can guild a rotten piece of wood.

      To yield she found her noble heart did ache;

      to strive she feared how it with virtue stood.

      These doubting clouds o’er-casting heav’nly brain,

      at length in rows of kiss-cheek tears they rain.

      Cupid, the wag, that lately conquered had

      wise counselors, stout captains, puissant kings,

      and tied them fast to lead his triumph bad,

      glutted with them, now played with meanest things.

      So oft in feasts with costly changes clad

      So lords with sport of stag and heron full,

      some times we see small birds from nests do pull.

      So now for prey these shepherds two he took,

      whose metal stiff he knew he could not bend

      with hear-say, pictures, or a window look,

      with one good dance, or letter finely penn’d

      that were in court a well-proportioned hook

      where piercing wits do quickly apprehend.

      Their senses rude plain objects only move,

      and so must see great cause before they love.

      Therefore Love, arm’d in her, now takes the field,

      making her beams his bravery and might.

      Her hands, which pierced the soul’s seven-double shield,

      were now his darts, leaving his wonted fight.

      Brave crest to him her scorn-gold hair did yield,

      his complete harness was her purest white.

      But fearing lest all white might seem too good,

      in cheeks and lips the tyrant threatens blood.

      Besides this force within her eyes he kept

      a fire to burn the prisoners he gains,

      whose boiling heart increasèd as she wept,

      for ev’n in forge cold water fire maintains.

      Thus proud and fierce unto the hearts he stepped

      of them (poor souls), and cutting reason’s reins,

      made them his own before they had it wished.

      But if they had, could sheep hooks this resist?

      Claius straight felt and groanèd at the blow,

      and called, now wounded, purpose to his aid.

      that it was love that shined in shining maid,

      if him new-learnèd manners had not stayed,

      for then Urania homeward did arise,

      leaving in pain their well-fed, hungry eyes.

      She

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