Arcadia. Sir Philip Sidney

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      Upon her body she wore a doublet of sky-colored satin covered with plates of gold and, as it were, nailed with precious stones, so that in it she might seem armed. The nether part of her garment was full of stuff and cut after such a fashion that, though the length of it reached to the ankles, yet in her going one might sometimes discern the small of her leg, which with the foot was dressed in a short pair of crimson-velvet buskins, in some places open (as the ancient manner was) to show the fairness of the skin.

      Over all this she wore a certain mantle made in such a manner that, coming under her right arm and covering most of that side, it had no fastening on the left side but only upon the top of the shoulder, where the two ends met and were closed together with a very rich jewel. The device whereof, as he saw later, was this: a Hercules made in little form but set with a distaff in his hand (as he once was by Omphale’s command) with a word in Greek, to be interpreted thus: “Never more valiant.” On the same side on her thigh she wore a sword, which, as it showed her to be an Amazon or one following that profession, so it seemed but a needless weapon since her other forces were overwhelming.

This lady walked onward, till Musidorus saw her enter into a fine, close arbor. It was of trees whose branches so lovingly interlaced one to the other that it could resist the strongest violence of eyesight, and she went into it by a door she opened. This moved him as warily as he could to follow her, and by and by he might hear her sing this song,12 with a voice no less beautiful to his ears than her goodliness was full of harmony to his eyes:

      Transformed in show, but more transformed in mind,

      I cease to strive, with double conquest foiled:

      for (woe is me) my powers all I find

      with outward force, and inward treason, spoiled.

      For from without came to my eyes the blow

      to which my inward thoughts did faintly yield.

      Both these conspired poor reason’s overthrow.

      False in myself, thus have I lost the field.

      Thus are my eyes still captive to one sight.

      Thus all my thoughts are slaves to one thought still.

      Thus reason to his servants yields his right.

      Thus is my power transformèd to your will.

      What marvel, then, I take a woman’s hue,

      since what I see, think, know is only you?

      The ditty gave him some suspicion, but the voice gave him almost assurance who the singer was. And therefore, boldly thrusting open the door and entering the arbor, he perceived that it was indeed Pyrocles thus disguised. Wherewith, not receiving so much joy to have found him as grief to have found him in that state, he looked with amazement upon him (as Apollo is painted when he saw Daphne suddenly turned into a laurel), unable to bring forth a word.

Pyrocles had as much shame as Musidorus had sorrow, and, turning to him, would have formed a substantial excuse, but (his insinuation being of blushing and his division of sighs)13 his whole oration stood upon a short narration of what caused this metamorphosis. By that time Musidorus had gathered his spirits together, and yet casting a ghastly countenance upon him (as if he would conjure some strange spirits) he thus spoke to him:

      “And is it possible that this is Pyrocles, the only young prince in the world formed by nature and framed by education to the true exercise of virtue? Or is it indeed some Amazon that has counterfeited the face of my friend to vex me in this way, for I would surely have thought it more likely that any outward face might have been disguised than that the face of so excellent a mind could have been thus blemished.

      “O sweet Pyrocles! Separate yourself a little (if it be possible) from yourself, and let your own mind look upon your own proceedings. So shall my words be needless, and you best instructed. See for yourself how fit it will be for you in this your tender youth—born so great a prince, and so rare not only of expectation but of proof—to divert your thoughts from the way of goodness, to lose, nay to abuse, your time when you are now so near your home and are desired by your old father and wanted by your native country; and, lastly, to overthrow all the excellent things you have done, which have filled the world with your fame. It is as if you should drown your ship in the long desired haven, or like an ill player, mar the last act of a tragedy.

      “Remember (for I know you know it) that if we will be men, the reasonable part of our soul is to have absolute commandment. If any sensual weakness arises, we are to commit all our sound forces to the overthrow of so unnatural a rebellion. And how can we lack courage, since we are to deal against an adversary so weak that in itself it is nothing but weakness?

      “Nay, we are to resolve that if reason directs it, we must do it, and if we must do it, we will do it: for to say ‘I cannot’ is childish; and ‘I will not,’ womanish. And see how extremely you endanger your mind in every way, for to take this womanish habit is wholly vain, unless you frame your behavior accordingly. Your behavior can never come naturally from you, but as the mind is proportioned unto it. If you will play your part to any purpose, you must resolve to soften your heart to receive whatever peevish imperfections are in that sex—the very first step down to all wickedness. For do not deceive yourself, my dear cousin, there is no man suddenly either excellently good or extremely evil who does not grow so, either as he holds himself up in virtue or lets himself slide to viciousness.

      “And, let us see, what power is the author of all these troubles? Forsooth, love! Love—a passion, and the basest and most fruitless of all passions. Fear breeds wit, anger is the cradle of courage, joy opens and enables the heart. Sorrow, as it closes, draws itself inward to look to the correcting of itself. And so all of them generally have power towards some good by the direction of reason. But this bastard love (for indeed the name of love is most unworthily applied to so hateful a humor) is engendered betwixt lust and idleness, and the matter it works upon is nothing but a certain base weakness, which some gentle fools call a gentle heart. And as its adjoined companions are disquiet, longings, fond comforts, faint discomforts, hopes, jealousies, ungrounded rages, and causeless yielding, so the highest end it aspires unto is a little pleasure with much pain before and great repentance after.

      “That end—how endlessly it runs to infinite evils—would be fit enough for the matter we speak of, although not for your ears, because you have so much true disposition to virtue. Yet thus much of love’s worthy effects is to be seen in you that, besides your breaking laws of hospitality with Kalander, and of friendship with me, it utterly subverts the course of nature in making reason give place to feeling and man to woman.

      “And truly I think hereupon it first got the name of love. For indeed true love has that excellent nature in it, that it transforms the very essence of the lover into the thing loved, uniting and, as it were, incorporating it with a secret and inward working. And in this way certain kinds of love imitate the more excellent kind, for as the love of heaven makes one heavenly, the love of virtue, virtuous; but so does the love of the world make one become worldly, and this effeminate love of a woman so womanize a man that (if he yields to it) it will not only make him an Amazon, but a launderer, a distaff-spinner, or whatsoever other vile occupation their idle heads can imagine and their weak hands perform.

      “Therefore (to trouble you no longer with my tedious but loving words) if either you remember what you are, what you have been, or what you must be; if you consider what it is that moved you or by what kind of creature you are moved, you shall find the cause so small, the effect so dangerous, yourself so unworthy to run into the one or to be driven by the other, that I doubt СКАЧАТЬ