performed by starlight. The chiefe Actor here is Melpomene, whose dusky robes dipt in the ynke of teares, as yet seeme to drop when I view them neere. The Argument cruell chastitie, the Prologue hope, the Epilogue dispaire, videte quæso et linguis animisque fauete.

He continues:

Long hath Astrophel (Englands Sunne) withheld the beames of his spirite, from the common view of our darke sence, and night hath houered over the gardens of the nine Sisters, while Ignis fatuus, and grosse fatty flames (such as commonly arise out of Dunghilles) haue tooke occasion in the middest eclipse of his shining perfections, to wander a broade with a whispe of paper at their tailes like Hobgoblins, and leade men up and downe in a circle of absurditie a whole weeke, and neuer know where they are.

There is some extravagant and, in the circumstances, rather familiar eulogy of the Countess of Pembroke, in which she is referred to as "the fayre sister of Phœbus, and eloquent secretary to the Muses, most rare Countesse of Pembroke . . . whom Artes doe adore as a second Minerua, and our Poets extoll as the Patronesse of their inuention..."; and the address is signed, "Yours in all desire to please, Tho: Nashe."

The volume contains, in addition to the "Astrophel and Stella" sonnets, twenty-seven sonnets by Daniel, and sundry short pieces by "Content," "E. O." (Edward Vere, Earl of Oxford), and one unsigned piece, with which the volume ends, "If flouds of teares could clense my follies past," which would appear to be by Nashe himself.

After the suppression of this book Daniel brought out an "authorised edition of the "Delia" sonnets in the ensuing year (1592), with an address, of which the following is the material portion :

To the Right Honourable the Ladie Mary Countesse of Pembroke

Right Honorable, although I rather desired to keep in the private passions of my youth, from the multitude, as things utterd to myselfe, and consecrated to silence: yet seeing I was betraide by the indiscretion of a greedie Printer, and had some of my secrets bewraide to the world, uncorrected: doubting the like of the rest, I am forced to publish that which I never ment.

But this wrong was not onely doone to mee, but to him whose unmatchable lines have endured the like misfortune; Ignorance sparing not to commit sacriledge upon so holy reliques. Yet Astrophel flying with the wings of his own fame, a higher pitch then the gross-sighted can discerne, hath registered his owne name in the Annals of eternitie, and cannot be disgraced, howsoever disguised. And for myselfe, seeing I am thrust out into the worlde, and that my unboldned Muse is forced to appeare so rawly in publique; I desire onely to be graced by the countenance of your protection: whome the fortune of our time hath made the happie and judiciall Patronesse of the Muses (a glory hereditary to your house) to preserve them from those hidious Beestes, Oblivion and Barbarisme.

...

Now this is not in Daniel's manner or style. The style, to my mind, is clearly that of the writer of the address of 1591, namely Nashe. It was superseded in 1594, in a later edition of the "Delia" sonnets, by an address to the Countess of Pembroke in verse, in the respectful style which Daniel always adopts on such occasions.1 Moreover the sonnets do not bear out the allegation that he was "forced to publish" that which he "never ment"; there are expressions in them which show that they were written for publication, and that Daniel was anxious to come before the world. Daniel, being dependent on the Countess of Pembroke, and others in a similar position, for a livelihood, was probably very much disturbed by the proceedings in connection with the volume of 1591, and it seems likely that the address of 1592 was written for him by "Nashe," with the object of clearing him from suspicion (under

1 Wonder of these, glory of other times,

O thou whom Envy ev'n is forst t'admyre:
Great Patronesse of these my humble Rymes,
Which thou from out thy greatnes doost inspire:
Sith only thou hast deign'd to rayse them higher,
Vouchsafe now to accept them as thine owne,
Begotten by thy hand, and my desire,
Wherein my Zeale, and thy great might is showne.
And seeing this unto the world is knowne,
O leave not still to grace thy worke in mee:
Let not the quickning seede be over-throwne
Of that which may be borne to honour thee.
Whereof, the travaile I may challenge mine,
But yet the glory (Madam) must be thine.

which he would naturally fall) of some responsibility for the offending publication.

It is relevant to observe that the " Astrophel and Stella " sequence was not published until after the Arcadia, the first edition of which appeared in 1590 as "The Countesse of Pembroke's Arcadia," with the Sidney arms on the title-page.1 This cleared the way for the sonnet sequence in Sidney's name. I think that the "Astrophel " collection in Spenser of 1595, which we have been considering, represents an attempt on the part of the author to undo the damage to Sidney's reputation caused by the publication of the sonnets, by representing "Stella" as Sidney's wife. This may have been done at the request of the Countess of Pembroke, who was perhaps ignorant of the history of the 1591 publication, but this need not necessarily have been so. It would account for Spenser's tardy and artificial tribute, and for the inclusion with it of inferior poems by other writers bearing similar testimony.

The author of the "Astrophel and Stella" sonnets, when he began them, was evidently very young. The passion represented is, to my mind, genuine (at least up to a point), not fictitious. But it is "cerebral " rather than normal, and is marked all through by the irresolution which proceeds from excessive sensibility and consciousness of motive. In the portrait which the writer draws of the woman—or girl-appears tenderness combined with a sense of duty, which takes the form of an appeal to his higher nature, as much on his account as on hers. For himself there is a conflict between passion and duty, not so much on moral grounds as from the point of view of the distraction of mind occasioned, and loss of time which is devoted to purposes beyond the satisfaction of individual feeling. The same thought is developed in Spenser and in Shakespeare, and an interesting illustration of it may be seen in the letters of Keats. It is probably present, more or less, in the mind of every man who is conscious

1 After the first edition these arms disappear, and in their place a fancy design is substituted of a boar sniffing a rosemary (?) bush, on which is the motto "Non tibi spiro." The porcupine of the crest is also transformed into a boar. (See editions of 1593, etc.)

of a mission, whether in the field of religion, art, or practical ambition. To illustrate these points from the sonnets would take me too far, but I will quote three in which the author more particularly takes stock of his own nature. It is important to bear in mind that the last lines in each case belong, more or less, to the conventions of the sonnet-sequence form, and are not therefore necessarily of the same interest as those which precede them.

XXIII

The curious wits, seeing dull Pensiveness
Bewray itself in my long-settled eyes,

Whence those same fumes of melancholy rise,
With idle pains and missing aim, do guess.
Some, that know how my spring I did address,
Deem that my Muse some fruit of knowledge plies;
Others, because the prince my service tries,
Think that I think State errors to redress:
But harder judges judge ambition's rage-
Scourge of itself, still climbing slippery place—
Holds my young brain captiv'd in golden cage.
O fools, or overwise: alas, the race
Of all my thoughts hath neither stop nor start
But only Stella's eyes and Stella's heart.

XXVII

Because I oft in dark abstracted guise
Seem most alone in greatest company,
With dearth of words, or answers quite awry,
To them that would make speech of speech arise;
They deem, and of their doom the rumour flies,
That poison foul of bubbling pride doth lie
So in my swelling breast, that only I
Fawn on myself, and others do despise.
Yet pride I think doth not my soul possess
(Which looks too oft in this unflattering glass):
But one worse fault, ambition, I confess,
That makes me oft my best friends overpass,
Unseen, unheard, while thought to highest place
Bends all his powers, even unto Stella's grace.

LXIV

No more, my dear, no more these counsels try;
O give my passions leave to run their race;
Let Fortune lay on me her worst disgrace;
Let folk o'ercharged with brain against me cry;

Let clouds bedim my face, break in mine eye ;
Let me no steps but of lost labour trace;
Let all the earth with scorn recount my case,-
But do not will me from my love to fly.
I do not envy Aristotle's wit,1

Nor do aspire to Caesar's bleeding fame;1
Nor ought do care though some above me sit;
Nor hope nor wish another course to frame,
But that which once may win thy cruel heart:
Thou art my wit, and thou my virtue art.

These sonnets appear to me to belong to one period,2 and to be concerned, probably from the beginning, with a woman who was married. If she was Lady Rich, they would have been begun in 1581, perhaps in 1580. Whether they more fitly describe the staid and sober son of Sir Henry Sidney, then a man of twenty-six or twentyseven, firm in his friendships and in high favour with the Queen, or the young genius of nineteen or twenty who, without any assured prospects, had taken the highest sphere of action, as well as all knowledge, to be his portion, I leave the reader to weigh and consider. For my own part I believe them to be the work of the latter.

It might be suggested that, in that case, "Rosalind," described in the "April" eclogue of the Shepheards Calender as "the Widdowes daughter of the glenne," was also Penelope Devereux, as in September 1576 the Countess of Essex was a widow, until, in September 1578, she married the Earl of Leicester. "E. K." also is careful to explain that she was "a Gentlewoman of no meane house, nor endewed with anye vulgare and common gifts, both of nature and manners." But it is unlike the poet's method to give a clue which might lead so readily to identification; rather it is his habit in such cases to mislead, while at the same time leaving an indica

1 These are examples to which Bacon perpetually refers in his writings. See, for example (as regards Aristotle), the extract given at p. 156. His criticisms of Aristotle do, in fact, suggest envy of his influence, and his admiration of Caesar is, in part, that of the man of thought for the man of action.

2 Arber suggests 1581 to 1584. Sidney left England in November 1584. 3 Compare the letter of Bacon (aet. 31) to Burghley, where, from obvious motives, he disclaims political ambition and discusses his projects in the field of intellect (Spedding, Life, i. 108).