Arcadia. Sir Philip Sidney
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and so, behind foul clouds full oft fair stars do lie hidden.
Zelmane:
Hardy shepherd, such as you merit, such may be her insight,
justly to grant you reward. Such envy I bear to your fortune.
But to myself, what wish can I make for a salve to my sorrows,
whom both nature seems to debar from means to be helped
and, if a means were found, fortune’s whole course of it hinders?
Thus plagued, how can I frame to my sore any hope of amendment?
Whence may I show to my mind any light of possible escape?
Bound, and bound by so noble bands as loath to be unbound,
tailor I am to myself, prison and prisoner to my own self.
Yet are my hopes thus placed. Here fixed lives all my comfort,
that that dear diamond, where wisdom holdeth a sure seat—
whose force had such force so to transform (nay, to reform) me—
will at length perceive these flames by her beams to be kindled
and will pity the wound festered so strangely within me.
O be it so! Grant such an event, ô gods. That event give,
and for a sure sacrifice I will daily oblation offer
of my own heart, where thoughts are the temple, sight is an altar.
But cease, worthy shepherd, now cease we to weary the hearers
with moanful melodies, for enough are our griefs revealed,
if, by the parties meant, our meanings rightly are marked,
and sorrows do require some respite unto the senses.
What exclaiming praises Basilius gave to this eclogue, any man may guess, who knows love is better than a pair of spectacles to make everything seem greater which is seen through it, and then is never tongue-tied where fit commendation (which women so desire) is offered unto it. But before anyone else came to supply the place, Zelmane, having by chance heard some of the shepherds name Strephon and Claius and therefore supposing they were present, desired to hear them for the fame of their friendly love and to acknowledge their kindness towards her best-loved friend. Much grieved was Basilius that any desire of his mistress should be unsatisfied, and therefore to represent them unto her as well as in their absence it might be, he commanded one Lamon, who had at large set down their country pastimes and first love to Urania, to sing the whole discourse, which he did in this manner:
Lamon’s Song
A shepherd’s tale no height of style80 desires
to raise in words what in effect is low.
A plaining81 song plain-singing voice requires,
for warbling notes from inward cheering flow.
I, then, whose burdened breast but thus aspires
of shepherds two the lowly case to show,
need not the stately muses help invoke
for creeping rhymes, which often sighings choke.
But you, ô you, who think not tears too dear
to shed for harms, although they touch you not,
and deign to deem your neighbor’s mischief near,
although they are of meaner parents got,
you I invite with easy ears to hear
the poor-clad truth of love’s wrong-ordered lot.
Who may be glad, be glad you be not such:
Who share in woe, weigh others have as much.
There was (ô seldom blessèd word of “was”!)
a pair of friends, or rather one called two,
trained in the life which on short-bitten grass
in shine or storm must set the clouted82 shoe.
He that the other in some years did pass,
and in those gifts that years distribute do,
was Claius called (ah, Claius, woeful wight!);
the later born, yet too soon, Strephon hight.
Epirus high was honest Claius’ nest,
to Strephon, Æoles’ land first breathing lent,83
but east and west were joined by friendship’s hest.
As Strephon’s ear and heart to Claius bent,
so Claius’ soul did in his Strephon rest.
Still both their flocks flocking together went,
as if they would of owners’ humor be,
as eke their pipes did well as friends agree.
Claius for skill of herbs and shepherd’s art
among the wisest was accounted wise,
yet not so wise as of unstainèd heart.
Strephon was young, yet marked with humble eyes
how elder ruled their flocks and cured their smart,
so that the grave did not his words despise.
Both free of mind, both did clear-dealing love,
and both had skill in verse their voice to move.
Their cheerful minds, till poisoned was their cheer,
the honest sports of earthly lodging prove.
Now for a clod-like hare in form they peer.
Now bolt84 and cudgel squirrel’s leap do move.
Now the ambitious lark with mirror clear
they catch, while he (fool!) to himself makes love.
And now at keels85 they try a harmless chance.
And now their cur they teach to fetch and dance.
When merry May first early calls the morn
with merry maids a-maying they do go.
Then do they pull from sharp and niggard thorn
the