The English Novel in the Time of Shakespeare Part 12

[146] Dedication of "Parismus," 1598.

[147] The thirteenth edition of "Parismus" appeared in 1649; there were others in 1657, 1663, 1664, 1665, 1668, 1671, 1677, 1684, 1690, 1696, 1704, &c. (Sidney L. Lee.)

[148] London, 1598, 4to.

[149] Sig. C iii. _et seq._

[150] Act i. sc. 4. "Romeo" was first printed in 1597. A contemporary representation of such an _entree_ of maskers is to be seen in the curious painting representing Sir H. Unton and the princ.i.p.al events in his life; now kept in the National Portrait Gallery (painted about 1596).

[151] "Parismenos, the second part of ... Parismus," 1599; "Ornatus and Artesia," of uncertain date, but surely anterior to 1598; "Montelion, Knight of the Oracle," of uncertain date; the earliest known copy bears date, 1633. Francis Meres, in his celebrated "Palladis Tamia," gives a list of books "hurtful to youth," and which are to be "censured"; among them, besides "Gargantua," "Owlgla.s.s," &c., he names "Ornatus and Artesia" and the "Black Knight," which might perhaps be "Parismus," for such was our hero's nickname.

[152] "Works in verse and prose," ed. Grosart, London, 1879, 2 vols., 4to. Breton was born in 1542-3; he studied at Oxford, and travelled on the continent; he died in 1626.

[153] This forms part of the t.i.tle of his "Wonders worth the hearing,"

1602 (a dialogue with anecdotes).

[154] "A poste with a packet of mad Letters." The earliest dated edition is of the year 1603. Breton published, besides the writings above mentioned, some religious, pastoral, and other poetry. Part of it is dedicated to Mary Sidney, Countess of Pembroke, the famous sister of Sir Philip: "The Countesse of Pembrookes love," 1592; "The Countesse of Pembroke's pa.s.sion" (no date). His pastoral poetry is among the best of his time. He left also moral essays and characters or typical portraits: "Characters upon essaies morall and divine, 1615," dedicated to Bacon, and concerning wisdom, learning, knowledge, patience, love, peace, war and other, even then, rather trite subjects. "The good and badde," 1616, contains characters of a knave, an usurer, a virgin, a parasite, a goodman, an "atheist or most badde man: hee makes robberie his purchase, lecherie his solace, mirth his exercise, and drunkennesse his glory,"

&c. These books of "Characters" were extremely popular. _Cf._ "Characters of virtues and vices" by Hall, 1608; Sir Thomas Overbury's "Characters," 1614; John Earle's "Microcosmographie," 1628, and a great many others. The last-named was translated into French by J. Dymocke, "Le vice ridicule," Louvain, 1671, 12mo. One of his most curious works is his "Fantasticks," 1626.

[155] The princ.i.p.al novels or short stories of Lodge are: "Forbonius and Prisceria," 1584, reprinted by the Shakespeare Society, 1853; "Rosalynde, Euphues golden legacie found after his death in his cell at Silexedra ... fetcht from the Canaries," 1590, reprinted by Hazlitt, 1875, and again in a popular form by Prof. H. Morley, 1887; "The famous, true, and historicall life of ... Robin the divell," 1591; "Euphues shadow the battaile of the sences wherein youthful folly is set downe,"

1592; it was edited by Greene in the absence of his friend, who was at sea "upon a long voyage." The story takes place in Italy at the time when "Octavius possessed the monarchy of the whole world." "The Margarite of America," 1596, reprinted by Halliwell, 1859. In this romance (p. 116), Lodge incidentally eulogizes his contemporary the French poet Philippe Desportes, and he mentions the popularity of his works in England. The "Complete Works" of Lodge have been published by the Hunterian Club, ed. Gosse, Glasgow, 1875, _et seq._

[156] "The tale of Gamelyn, from Harleian MS., 7334," ed. Skeat, Oxford, 1884, 16mo.

[157] "Works," vol. ii. p. 12 (each work has a separate pagination)

[158] "Works," vol. ii. pp. 14, 16, 19, 20.

[159] "Works," vol. ii. pp. 63, 46, 42.

[160] "As you like it," act iv. sc. 3.

[161] Her forest name for Alinda.

[162] "As you like it," act iii. sc. 5.

[163] "Works," vol. ii. pp. 29, 30, 31, 49.

[164] "Saladin's meditation with himself: 'Saladin, art thou disquieted in thy thoughts?'" &c. "Rosalind's pa.s.sion: 'Unfortunate Rosalind, whose misfortunes are more than thy years,'" &c. "Aliena's meditation: 'Ah!

me; now I see, and sorrowing sigh to see that Diana's laurels are harbours for Venus doves,'" &c.

[165] For example, in "the schedule annexed to Euphues testament," by which the dying man leaves the book to Philautus for the benefit of his children. They will find in it what is fit for the G.o.d Love, "roses to whip him when he is wanton, reasons to whistant him when he is wilie."

In the same manner Sir John of Bourdeaux informs his sons that "a woman's eye as it is precious to behold, so is it prejudicial to gaze upon"; Rosalind observes to herself that "the greatest seas have the sorest stormes, the highest birth is subject to the most bale and of all trees the cedars soonest shake with the wind," &c. The same style is used in "Euphues shadow" in "Robin the divell," &c.: "Thou art like the verven (Nature) poyson one wayes, and pleasure an other, feeding me with grapes in shewe lyke to Darius vine, but not in substance lyke those of Vermandois" ("Robin the divell").

[166] "A Looking gla.s.se for London and England." This drama was written by Lodge and by his friend Greene. The following stage direction occurs in it: "Ionas the prophet cast out of the whales belly upon the stage."

[Ill.u.s.tration: PENSHURST, SIDNEY'S BIRTHPLACE.]

CHAPTER V.

SIR PHILIP SIDNEY AND PASTORAL ROMANCE.

When nowadays we see our shepherds, wrapped in their long brown cloaks, silently following the high roads in the midst of a suffocating dust which seems to come out of their sheep, it is difficult to explain the enthusiasm that has ascribed to this race of mutes such fine speeches and such pleasant adventures. Greeks, Romans, Italians, Spaniards, the French and the English, have differed in a mult.i.tude of points, but they have one and all delighted in pastorals. No cla.s.s of heroes either in history or fiction has uttered so much verse and prose as the keepers of sheep. Neither Ajax son of Telamon, nor the wise king of Ithaca, nor Merlin, Lancelot, or Charlemagne, nor even the inexhaustible Grandison, can bear the least comparison with t.i.tyrus. It is easy to give many reasons for this; but the phenomenon still remains somewhat strange. The best explanation is perhaps that the pastoral is one of the most convenient pretexts existing for saying what would otherwise be embarra.s.sing. To many authors the eclogue is like a canvas for trying their colours and brushes. Many would not willingly confess it, and Pope would have vowed a mortal hatred to any one who explained his eclogues thus: but it is better for his reputation to believe that he had at least that reason for writing them. For some, the pastoral is an allegory, where, if one would, place can be given to Cynthia, Queen of the Sea, that is to say, to Elizabeth, and to a Shepherd of the Ocean who is Raleigh; it allows the poet to speak to kings, to ask alms discreetly of them, and to thank them.

In England in Shakespeare's time people were pa.s.sionately fond of the country of Arcadia, not the Arcady "for better for worse" that can be seen anywhere outside London,[167] but the old poetical Arcadia, the Arcadia of nowhere, which was the more cherished on account of its non-existence. They could invent at their ease, imagine prodigious adventures and wonderful amours; since no one had ever been in Arcadia, it was hardly possible for any one to protest that events happened differently there. To-day we think in quite another way; we must be told of well-ascertained facts, of warranted catastrophes, at once certified and provable. That is why the action of our novels, far from carrying us into Arcadia, often unfolds itself in our kitchens and on our back staircases. It is not at all as it was in the time of Robert Greene.

Very rarely now does any one ask if perchance some of these "Arcadias,"

so cherished by our fathers, contained their share of enduring beauty, or if their lasting success is to be explained otherwise than by their improbabilities and their artificial embellishments. Nevertheless the study might be profitable, for it must be borne in mind that the readers of these romances went in the afternoon to the "Globe" to see Shakespeare play his own pieces, and that, admitting their fondness for such dramas, in which, without speaking of other merits, the kitchen is sometimes the place represented, it would be surprising to find only mere nonsense in the whole collection of their favoured romances. Let these suggestions justify us at need in examining one more Arcadia: besides, it is not that of a penniless Bohemian; it is the Arcadia of Sir Philip Sidney, the pattern of chivalrous perfection under Elizabeth.

His life is not, in its way, less characteristic of his time than that of starving Robert Greene, or of Thomas Lodge the corsair.

I.

Born in 1554, in the n.o.ble castle of Penshurst in Kent,[168] Sidney pa.s.sed a part of his childhood in Ludlow Castle, where in the next century Milton's "Comus" was to be represented. At college he was famous for his personal charm, his knowledge, and the thoughtful turn of his mind. "I knew him," wrote in later years his friend and companion Fulke Greville, "with such staiednesse of mind, lovely and familiar gravity, as carried grace and reverence above greater years."[169] During the year 1572 he was staying in France, where he had been appointed by King Charles IX. one of the gentlemen of his chamber. It was the time of the St. Bartholomew ma.s.sacre, and Sidney, who belonged to the English mission, remained in the house of Sir Francis Walsingham, the Queen's amba.s.sador, and escaped the perils of that terrible day.

He left France shortly after and travelled in several countries of Europe, studying men and nations, storing his mind with information; he was comparatively free from prejudice, and believed that useful examples and precepts might be obtained even from "the great Turk." "As surely,"

did he write some years later to his brother Robert, "in the great Turk, though we have nothing to do with him, yet his discipline in war matters is ... worthy to be known and learned. Nay even the kingdom of China which is almost as far as the Antipodes from us, their good laws and customs are to be learned."[170] In such a disposition of mind he visited successively Germany, Austria, Hungary, and Italy. The most interesting incident of his journey was the acquaintance he made with a Frenchman, the political thinker Hubert Languet, from whom Milton, a long time before Rousseau, probably derived his ideas of the social contract "foedus," says Languet, "inter [principem] and populum," and his theories on the right of insurrection.[171] A most tender friendship was formed between the revolutionary writer and the aristocratic Sidney.

They began a correspondence which did not cease till the former's death in 1581. Languet had great influence over his young friend, and was constantly giving him most manly advice and that best suited to strengthen his character, warning him especially in very wise fashion against a melancholy unsuitable to his age, which in the grave Huguenot's opinion was only a useless impedimentum in life. "I readily allow," wrote Sidney, in answer to his friend's remonstrances, "that I am often more serious than either my age or my pursuits demand."[172]

That this tendency to pensiveness left its trace on his features may be seen in most of his portraits, among others in that by Isaac Oliver, of which we give a reproduction.

The most interesting of Sidney's portraits is unfortunately lost. He sat for it while in Italy, at the request of his friend, and chose no mean artist to paint it: "As soon as ever I return to Venice, I will have it done, either by Paul Veronese or by Tintoretto, who hold by far the highest place in the art." He decided for Veronese, and sent the picture to Languet, who wrote shortly after: "As long as I enjoyed the sight of you, I made no great account of the portrait you gave me, and scarcely thanked you for so beautiful a present. I was led by regret for you on my return from Frankfort to place it in a frame and fix it in a conspicuous place. When I had done this, it appeared to me so beautiful and so strongly to resemble you that I possess nothing that I value more ... The painter has represented you sad and thoughtful. I should have been better pleased if your face had worn a more cheerful look when you sat for the painting."[173] When Languet died, Sidney described his sentiments for him in a touching poem, inserted in his "Arcadia"; it was sung by the shepherd Philisides, who represents the author himself and whose name is a contraction of the words Philip Sidney:

"I sate me downe; for see to goe ne could, And sang unto my sheepe lest stray they should.

The song I sang old Lan[g]uet had me taught, Lan[g]uet, the shepeard best swift Ister knew, For clearkly reed, and hating what is naught, For faithfull heart, cleane hands and mouth as true.

With his sweet skill my skillesse youth he drew, To have a feeling taste of him that sits Beyond the heaven, farre more beyond our wits ...

With old true tales he wont mine cares to fill, How shepeards did of yore, how now they thrive ...

He liked me, but pitied l.u.s.tfull youth: His good strong staffe my slipperie yeares upbore: He still hop'd well because I loved truth."[174]

In 1575, when twenty-one years old, Sidney returned to shine at court, where his uncle Leicester, the Queen's favourite was to make all things easy for him. He a.s.sisted that year at the fetes given in Elizabeth's honour at Kenilworth, in those famous gardens "though not so goodly,"

writes a witness of the festivities, "as Paradis, for want of the fayr rivers, yet better a great deal by the lack of so unhappy a tree."[175]

Then Sidney accompanied the Queen to Chartley, and these ceremonies mark a great epoch in his existence. While Elizabeth listened to the compliments of her entertainers, Sidney's eyes were fixed on a child. A sentiment, the full strength of which he was to feel only in after time, sprang up in his heart for Penelope Devereux, the twelve-year-old daughter of the Earl of Ess.e.x, who was as beautiful as Dante's Beatrice.

He began to visit at her father's house frequently; it seemed as if a marriage would ensue; Ess.e.x himself was favourable to it, but for some cause or other Sidney did not press his suit; and while his friend Languet strongly advised him to marry, he was answering him in the leisurely style of one who believes himself heart-whole: "Respecting her of whom I readily acknowledge how unworthy I am, I have written you my reasons long since, briefly indeed, but yet as well as I was able."[176]

He was soon to write in a very different manner. Penelope, the Stella of Sidney's verse, was, very much against her will, compelled at last by her family to marry the wealthy Lord Rich, and then Sidney awoke to his fate: what he had believed to be mere inclination, a light feeling of which he would always remain the master, had from the first been Love, irrepressible, unconquerable love:

"I might;--unhappie word--O me, I might, And then would not, or could not see my blisse; Till now wrapt in a most infernall night, I find how heav'nly day, wretch! I did miss."[177]

He remained a lover of Stella, saw her, wrote to her, sang of her, and at length ascertained that she too, despite her marriage ties, loved him. He continued then, in altered tones, the magnificent series of sonnets dedicated to her and which read still like a love-drama of real life, a love-drama which is all summarized in the beautiful and well-known dirge:

"Ring out your belles, let mourning shewes be spread; For Love is dead: All Love is dead, infected With plague of deep disdaine: Worth, as nought worth, rejected And Faith faire scorne doth game.

From so ungratefull fancie, From such a femall franzie From them that use men thus, Good Lord, deliver us!

Weepe, neighbours, weepe; do you not heare it said That Love is dead?