Pastoral Poetry & Pastoral Drama Part 27

After this exhibition of her malice the shepherds and huntsmen no longer doubt that it was Maudlin herself who deceived them in the shape of Marian, and they determine to pursue her through the forest. The wise shepherd, Alken, undertakes the direction of this novel 'blast of venerie,' and thus discourses of her unhallowed haunts: /p Within a gloomie dimble shee doth dwell, Downe in a pitt, ore-growne with brakes and briars, Close by the ruines of a shaken Abbey Torne, with an Earth-quake, down unto the ground; 'Mongst graves, and grotts, neare an old Charnell house, Where you shall find her sitting in her fourme, As fearfull, and melancholique, as that Shee is about; with Caterpillers kells, And knottie Cobwebs, rounded in with spells. Thence shee steales forth to releif, in the foggs, And rotten Mistes, upon the fens, and boggs, Downe to the drowned Lands of Lincolnes.h.i.+re. .....[There] the sad Mandrake growes, Whose grones are deathfull! the dead-numming Night-shade!

The stupifying Hemlock! Adders tongue! And Martagan! the shreikes of lucklesse Owles, Wee heare! and croaking Night-Crowes in the aire!

Greene-bellied Snakes! blew fire-drakes in the skie! And giddie Flitter-mice, with lether wings! The scalie Beetles, with their habergeons, That make a humming Murmur as they flie! There, in the stocks of trees, white Faies doe dwell, And span-long Elves, that dance about a poole, With each a little Changeling, in their armes! The airie spirits play with falling starres, And mount the Sphere of fire, to kisse the Moone! While, shee sitts reading by the Glow-wormes light, Or rotten wood, o're which the worme hath crept, The banefull scedule of her nocent charmes. (II. viii.)

In the third act we are introduced to Puck-hairy, who laments his lot as the familiar of the malignant witch in whose service he has now to 'firk it like a goblin' about the woods. Meanwhile Karol meets Douce in the dress of Earine, who, however, runs off on the approach of Aeglamour. The latter fancies she is the ghost of his drowned love, and falls into a 'superst.i.tious commendation' of her. His delusions are conceived in a vein no less happy and more distinctly poetical than those of Amyntas.

But shee, as chaste as was her name, Earine, Dy'd undeflowr'd: and now her sweet soule hovers, Here, in the Aire, above us; and doth haste To get up to the Moone, and Mercury; And whisper Venus in her Orbe; then spring Up to old Saturne, and come downe by Mars, Consulting Jupiter; and seate her selfe Just in the midst with Phoebus, tempring all The jarring Spheeres, and giving to the World Againe, his first and tunefull planetting!

O' what an age will here be of new concords!

Delightfull harmonie! to rock old Sages, Twice infants, in the Cradle o' Speculation, And throw a silence upon all the creatures!...

The loudest Seas, and most enraged Windes Shall lose their clangor; Tempest shall grow hoa.r.s.e; Loud Thunder dumbe; and every speece of storme Laid in the lap of listning Nature, husht, To heare the changed chime of this eighth spheere! (III. ii.)

After this Lionel appears in search of Karol, who is in requisition for the distressed Amie. They are about to go off together when Maudlin again appears in the shape of Marian, with the news that Amie is recovered and their presence no longer required. At this moment, however, Robin appears, and suspecting the witch, who tries to escape, seizes her by the girdle and runs off the stage with her. The girdle breaks, and Robin returns with it in his hand, followed by the witch in her own shape. Robin and the shepherds go off with the prize, while Maudlin summons Puck to her aid and sets to plotting revenge. Lorel also appears for the purpose of again addressing himself to his imprisoned mistress, and, if necessary, putting his mother's precepts into practice. With the words of the witch:

Gang thy gait, and try Thy turnes with better luck, or hang thy sel';

the fragment breaks off abruptly. From the Argument prefixed to Act III we know that Lorel's purpose with Earine was interrupted by the entrance of Clarion and Aeglamour, and her discovery was only prevented by a sudden mist called up by Maudlin. The witch then set about the recovery of her girdle, was tracked by the huntsmen as she wove her spells, but escaped by the help of her goblin and through the over-eagerness of her pursuers.

Strangely different estimates have been formed of the merits of Jonson's pastoral, alike in itself and in contrast with Fletcher's play. Gifford, who, in spite of his vast erudition, seldom soared in his critical judgements above the more obvious and conventional considerations of propriety and style, praised the work as 'natural and elegant' in thought, and in language 'inexpressibly beautiful,' while at the same time with the petty insolence which habitually marked his utterances concerning any who stood in rivalry with his hero, he referred to the _Faithful Shepherdess_ as being 'insufferably tedious' as a poem, and held that as a drama 'its heaviness can only be equalled by its want of art.' Gifford's spleen, however, had evidently been aroused by Weber, who had declared the _Sad Shepherd_ to be written 'in emulation of Fletcher's poem, but far short of it,' and his remarks must not be taken too seriously. Two quotations will serve to ill.u.s.trate the diversity of opinion among modern critics. They display alike more condescension to particulars and greater weight of judgement. Thus we find Mr. Swinburne, in his very able study of Ben Jonson, not a little disgusted at the introduction of the broader humour and burlesque of the dialect-speaking characters, Maudlin, Lorel, Scathlock, in conjunction with the greater refinement of Robin, Marian, and the shepherds. 'A masque including an antimasque, in which the serious part is relieved and set off by the introduction of parody or burlesque, was a form of art or artificial fas.h.i.+on in which incongruity was a merit; the grosser the burlesque, the broader the parody, the greater was the success and the more effective was the result: but in a dramatic attempt of higher pretention than such as might be looked for in the literary groundwork or raw material for a pageant, this intrusion of incongruous contrast is a pure barbarism--a positive solecism in composition.... On the other hand, even Gifford's editorial enthusiasm could not overestimate the ingenious excellence of construction, the masterly harmony of composition, which every reader of the argument must have observed with such admiration as can but intensify his regret that scarcely half of the projected poem has come down to us. No work of Ben Jonson's is more amusing and agreeable to read, as none is more graceful in expression or more excellent in simplicity of style.' This last is high meed of praise, but it is the question raised in the earlier portion of the criticism that now particularly concerns us. His love of strong contrasts has no doubt influenced Mr. Swinburne to express at any rate not less than he felt, but he has raised a perfectly clear and evident issue, and one which it is impossible for the critic to neglect. Although had the play undergone final revision, it is possible that Jonson, whose literary judgement was of no mean order, would have softened some of the harsher contrasts in his work, it is evident that they were in the main intentional and deliberately calculated. This appears alike from the prologue, in which he denounces the heresy

That mirth by no meanes fits a Pastorall,

as also from what we gather concerning an earlier work, in which he introduced 'clownes making mirth and foolish sports,' as recorded by Drummond. As against Mr. Swinburne's view may be set that of Dr. Ward. 'In _The Sad Shepherd_ [Jonson] has with singular freshness caught the spirit of the greenwood. If this pastoral is more realistic in texture than either Spenser's or Milton's efforts in the same direction, the result is due, partly to the character of the writer, partly to the circ.u.mstance that Jonson's "shepherds" are beings of a definite age and country. It must, however, be observed that the personages in this pastoral are in part not shepherds at all, but Robin Hood and his merry men. We may admit that the lucky combination thus. .h.i.t upon could probably not easily be repeated; but this is merely to acknowledge the felicity of the author's invention.' Allowing for the difference of temper in the two writers, it will be seen that the view taken of certain essentials of the piece is as favourable in the one case as it is unfavourable in the other. Both alike are critics of recognized standing, so that whichever position one may feel disposed to adopt, ample authority may be quoted in support. There are unfortunate occasions on which one's favourite oracle perversely refuses to accommodate himself to one's own view. Mr. Swinburne is a writer from whom on points of aesthetic judgement I for one differ, but with the greatest reluctance. Nevertheless in the present case I feel bound to record my dissent.

Jonson's play was, as I have already said, an attempt to create a new and genuinely English form of pastoral drama. How far did he succeed? Mr.

Homer Smith charitably hints that it was owing to the 'exquisite poetry'

in which Jonson's design was clothed 'that many critics do not perceive that he failed in the task he set himself.' This is, however, but to repeat in cruder form Mr. Swinburne's contention.[287] That Jonson did not fail in the task he set himself it would be difficult to maintain--only, however, I believe, because he faiied to carry it to completion. Had he lived to finish the remaining portion of the play in a manner consonant with that which he has left us, there would probably have been no question as to the propriety of the means he used. I am fully aware how difficult and often dangerous it is in these matters to argue from a mere fragment, especially in view of the breakdown of so many plays when they come to the unravelling, but it should be borne in mind that in the matter of dramatic construction Jonson stood head and shoulders above all the other writers with whom we have been concerned, Fletcher not excepted.

Before, however, proceeding to discuss the issue raised by Mr. Swinburne, it will be well to clear up certain minor misapprehensions. In the first place Mr. Homer Smith states that Jonson 'wove together the two threads, pastoral and forest, apparently regarding them of equal importance and seeing no incongruity in the combination.' In so far as this may be taken to imply a necessary incompatibility of the traditions of field and forest, it is of course utterly opposed to the whole history of pastoral tradition. Ta.s.so's Silvia and Guarini's Silvio alike are silvan not in name only, but are truly figures of the woods, hunters of the wolf and boar; while the same distinction survives in a modified form in Daniel's _Hymen's Triumph_, in which the ruder characters, Monta.n.u.s and the rest, are described as foresters. The contrast appears sharply in the _Maid's Metamorphosis_ in the characters of Silvio and Gemulo; more faintly indicated by Randolph in Laurinda's lovers, of whom one frequents the woods and one the plains. The pastoral and forest traditions are in their essence and history indistinguishable.[288] Probably, however, what the writer had in view was some supposed incongruity between the characters of popular romance, such as Robin and his crew, and the shepherds whom he regards as pure Arcadians. This is the same objection as that raised by Mr. Swinburne, to which I shall return.

Another point which has been somewhat obscured by previous writers is the comparative importance of the two threads. Thus, again to quote Mr. Homer Smith, it has been held that 'In general the pastoral incidents serve as an underplot, utterly foreign in spirit to the main plot.' Against this view that the pastoral is, intentionally at least, the subsidiary element, the t.i.tle itself is a strong argument--'The Sad Shepherd: A Tale of Robin Hood.' Clearly the first t.i.tle would naturally indicate the main subject of the plot, and the vague addition suggest, the surroundings amid which the action is laid. This is a consideration which no amount of stichometrical argument can seriously discount, especially in the case of a fragment. The same view is borne out by the plot itself so far as it is known to us. In Aeglamour's despair at the supposed loss of his love we have a situation already familiar from at least two English pastorals, _Hymen's Triumph_ and Rutter's _Shepherds' Holiday_; while in the detention of Earine in the power of the witch we have the material for an exciting and touching development. Where else can we look for the elements of a plot? The only possible alternative lies in the dissensions sown by Maudlin between Robin and his love Maid Marian. Here indeed we find the materials for some excellent comedy, and the instinctive sympathy excited by the characters in the breast of every Englishman, as well as the exquisite charm and grace imparted to the forest scenes by Jonson's verse, have undoubtedly combined to obscure the real action in the earlier part of the fragment. But since Lord Fitzwater's daughter is doomed by an unkind tradition to remain Maid Marian still, no fortunate solution of the _imbroglio_ can do more than restore the harmony which had been before, and the plot would therefore be open to the precise objection from the dramatic point of view which we found in the case of the _Faithful Shepherdess_. Moreover, the complication is completely solved by the end of the second act, and it was obviously introduced for no other purpose than to bring about a general crusade against the wise woman and her confederate powers, which should be the means of restoring Earine to her Sad Shepherd. Thus the story of these lovers alone can supply the materials for the main, or indeed for any real plot at all; and the fact that, as Mr. Homer Smith informs us, out of some thousand lines less than half are devoted to strictly pastoral interests, is but evidence of the felicity of construction, by which Jonson, while keeping the pastoral plot as the mainspring of the piece, nevertheless avoided the tediousness almost inseparable from pastoral action and atmosphere, and threw the burden of stage business upon the more congenial personages of Maid Marian, Robin Hood and his merry men, the Witch of Paplewich, and Robin Goodfellow. It remains for us to consider the fundamental question which arises in connexion with Mr. Swinburne's criticism. Are the various threads of which Jonson wove his plot in themselves incompatible and incongruous? Is it correct to describe the parts played by the more rustic characters as a grotesque antimasque to the action of the polished shepherds? Or is Dr. Ward right in considering the combination a happy one, and the characters harmonious? Now any one who wishes to defend Mr.

Swinburne's view must do so on one of two ground: either he must maintain the general proposition that various degrees of idealization are essentially incompatible within the limits of a single artistic composition, or else he must hold that the contrast between the two sets of characters in the actual play is itself of a grossness to offend the sense of literary propriety in an audience. If any one is prepared without qualification to maintain the former of these two propositions, he is welcome to do so, and he will be perfectly ent.i.tled to condemn Jonson's pastoral on the strength of it; but I doubt whether this was the intention of the critic himself. Although as a general rule the English drama found its romance rather in what it imagined to be realism than in conscious idealization, yet the contrast between the imaginative and refined creations of the fancy and the often coa.r.s.e and gross transcripts from common life are too frequent even to require specific mention, and many shades even of imaginative painting, many degrees of idealism, may frequently be met with in the course of a single play. What of Rosalind, Phoebe, and Audrey in _As You Like It_? But that is a question to which we shall have to return. It will, however, be contended that in the _Sad Shepherd_ we are introduced to a wholly idealized and artificially refined atmosphere surrounding the shepherds and their hosts, which is yet constantly liable to be broken in upon by beings of the outer world, rude unchastened mortals compounded of our common clay, whose entrance dispels at a stroke the delicate, refined atmosphere of pastoral convention. This brings us to the second alternative mentioned above, to meet which we shall have to condescend to particulars, and consider the real natures of the various groups of personages with which Jonson crowds his stage.

The question of the incongruity of the various characters in Jonson's pastoral is one which every reader of taste must decide for himself. All that the critic can hope to do is to point out how the figures on the stage compare with previous tradition and convention on the one hand, and with the characters of actual life on the other. But in doing this I hope to be able to vindicate Jonson's taste, for I believe Mr. Swinburne to be in error in regarding the shepherds of the play as more, and the rustic characters as less, idealized than Jonson intended them, and than they in reality are. Were the shepherds the pure Arcadians Mr. Homer Smith a.s.serts them to be, and were it necessary with Mr. Swinburne to regard Scathlock and Maudlin as mere parody and burlesque, then indeed Jonson's taste, as exhibited in the _Sad Shepherd_, would not be worth defending. But it is not so.

It is necessary in the first place, however, to make certain admissions.

It is true that in the fragment as we possess it there are certain pa.s.sages which pa.s.s beyond any legitimate idealization of the actual world in which Jonson chose to lay his scene, and which contrast jarringly and irreconcilably with the coa.r.s.er threads of homespun. Thus Aeglamour, in so far as it is possible to form an opinion, keeps too much of the artificial Arcadianism of the Italians about him, and is hardly of a piece with the rest of the personae. The same may be said of the name at least of Earine; of her character it is impossible to judge--in one pa.s.sage indeed we find her talking broad dialect, but that doubtless only through an oversight of the author. Much the same may be censured of individual pa.s.sages: the singularly out-of-place catalogue of 'Lovers Scriptures' put into the mouth of Clarion, and, in a speech of Aeglamour's, the collocation of Dean and Erwash, Idle, Snite, and Soar, with the nymphs and Graces that come dancing out of the fourth ode of Horace. Some have been inclined to add an occasional reminiscence of Sappho or so; but critics appear somewhat dense at understanding that when Amie, for instance, speaks of 'the dear good angel of the spring,' it is not she but her creator who is exhibiting a familiarity with the cla.s.sics. In this and similar cases the fact of borrowing in no wise affects the question of dramatic propriety. Certain incongruities must then be admitted, but they lie rather in casual pa.s.sages than in any necessary portion of the play; while in so far as they appear in the presentation of any character, the contrast seems to lie rather between Aeglamour and the rest of the shepherds than between these and the less polished huntsmen. It should furthermore be remembered--though the remark is perhaps strictly beside, or rather beyond, the point--that where the incongruous elements are not fundamental, it is always possible that they might have been removed had the play undergone revision.

Subject to these reservations it appears to me that the characters and general tone of Jonson's pastoral are perfectly harmonious and congruent.

The shepherds are far removed from the types of Arcadian convention, and may more properly be regarded as idealizations from the actual country lads and la.s.ses of merry England. Their names are borrowed from popular romance, which, if somewhat French in its tone, was certainly in no way antagonistic to the legends of Sherwood nor to the agency of witchcraft and fairy lore[289]. Even Alken, in spite of his didactic bent, is as far as possible from being the conventional 'wise shepherd,' and certainly no Arcadian ever displayed such knowledge as he of the n.o.ble art, while his lecture on the blast of hag-hunting, though savouring somewhat of burlesque, contains perhaps the most thoroughly charming and romantic lines that ever flowed from the pen of the great exponent of cla.s.sical tradition. That the characters owe nothing to Arcadian tradition is not contended, nor do I know that it would be desirable that they should not, since that tradition forms at least a convenient, if not an altogether necessary, precedent for such pastoral idealization; but even if it is going rather far to say that they 'belong to a definite age and country,'

they have yet sufficient individuality and community of human nature to be wholly fitting companions for the gallant Robin and his fair lady. Jonson, it would appear, consciously adopted the pastoral method, if hardly the pastoral mood, of Theocritus, in contradistinction to that of the courtly poets in Italy. It will be noticed that he has not forborne to introduce references to sheepcraft, but the fact that these enter more or less naturally into the discourse, and are not, as in Fletcher's pastoral, introduced in the vain hope of giving local colour to wholly uncolourable characters, saves them from having the same stilted effect, and is at the same time evidence of the greater reality of Jonson's personae. It is also noteworthy that Jonson has even ventured upon allegorical matter in one pa.s.sage at least, but has succeeded in doing so in a manner in no wise incongruous with the nature of actual rustics, though the collocation of Robin Hood and the rise of Puritanism must be admitted to be historically something of an anachronism.

Robin and Maid Marian are, of course, characters no whit less idealized than the shepherds, though the process was largely effected by popular tradition instead of by the author. But this being so, such characters as Much and Scathlock must be no less incongruous with Robin and Marian than with Karol and Amie--a proportion which those who love the old Sherwood tradition would be loath to admit. In any case the incongruity, if it exists, is not of Jonson's devising, but consecrated for ages in the popular mind. The truth is, however, that Much and Little John, Scathlock and Scarlet are, in spite of their more homely speech and humour, scarcely less idealized than any of the other characters I have mentioned. That Jonson has even sought to tone down such harshness of contrast as he found is noticeable in his treatment of a recognized figure of burlesque like Friar Tuck, who is throughout portrayed with decorum and respect.

Lastly, to come to the third group of characters. If it was impossible for an English audience to regard as burlesque such popular and sympathetic characters as Robin and his merry men, so a malignant witch and a mischievous elf were far too serious agents of ill to be treated in this light either. Characters whose unholy powers would have fitted them for death at the stake can scarcely have been regarded even by the rude audiences of pre-restoration London as fitting subjects of farce, while there is nothing to lead us to suppose that Jonson, whatever his private opinion on the subject may have been, sought in the present instance to cast ridicule upon the belief in witches, but rather it is evident that he laid hands upon everything that could give colour to their sinister reputation. On the other hand, he has treated the whole subject with an imaginative touch which relieves us of all tragic or moral apprehension, removes all the squalid and unblessed surroundings into the region of romantic art, and makes it impossible to regard the characters as less idealized than those of the shepherds and huntsmen. I cannot myself but regard the elements of witchcraft and fairy employed by Jonson as far more in harmony not only with Robin Hood and his men, but also with the shepherds of Belvoir vale, than would have been the oracles, satyrs, and other outworn machinery of regular pastoral tradition.

There remains the rusticity of language which distinguishes some of the ruder characters from others more refined. That some contrast between the groups was intended is indisputable, that the contrast is rather harsher than the author intended may be plausibly maintained. There is, on the whole, a lack of graduation. Into the question of dialectism in general it is needless to enter. The speech employed would be inoffensive, were it not that it is, and is felt to be, no genuine dialect at all, but a mere literary convention, a mixture of broad Yorks.h.i.+re and Lothian Scots, not only utterly out of place in Sherwood forest, but such as can never have been spoken by any sane rustic. Still more than of Spenser is Ben's dictum true of himself, that where he departed from the cultivated English of his day, whether in imitation of the ancients or of provincial dialect matters not, he failed to write any language at all. Yet here, if anywhere, we should be justified in arguing that it is unfair to judge an unrevised fragment as if it were a completed work in the form in which the author decided to give it to the world. Jonson, as his _English Grammar_ shows, was not without a knowledge of the antiquities at least of our tongue, and it is reasonable to suppose that, had he lived to publish his pastoral himself, he would have removed some of the more glaring enormities of language, along with certain other improprieties which could hardly have escaped his critical eye.

Jonson then, as it seems to me, setting aside a few points of minor importance, successfully combined what he found suited to his purpose in previous pastoral tradition, with what was most romantic and attractive in popular legend and a genuine idealization from actual types, to produce a veritable English pastoral, which failed of success only in that it remained unfinished at the death of its author.

In 1783 F. G. Waldron published his continuation of Jonson's fragment.

This work, while betraying throughout the date of its composition, and falling in every respect short of the original, yet catches some measure of its glamour and charm, and has received deserved, if somewhat qualified, praise at the hands of Jonson's critics. The chief faults of the piece are the writer's anxiety to marry every good character and convert every bad one, and the manner in which the dramatic climax by which Aeglamour and Earine should be brought together is frittered away.

The shepherdess is duly released from the hands of the lewd Lorel, but only to find that her lover has drowned himself. The hermit is, of course, introduced to revive the Sad Shepherd and restore his wits, and so all ends happily. The only original pa.s.sage of any particular merit is the hunter's dirge over the drowned Aeglamour, which is perhaps worth quoting[290]:

The chase is o'er, the hart is slain!

The gentlest hart that grac'd the plain; With breath of bugles sound his knell, Then lay him low in Death's drear dell!

Nor beauteous form, nor dappled hide, Nor branchy head will long abide; Nor fleetest foot that scuds the heath, Can 'scape the fleeter huntsman, Death.

The hart is slain! his faithful deer, In spite of hounds or huntsman near, Despising Death, and all his train, Laments her hart untimely slain!

The chase is o'er, the hart is slain!

The gentlest hart that grac'd the plain; Blow soft your bugles, sound his knell, Then lay him low in Death's drear dell!

(Act IV.)

Chapter VI.

The English Pastoral Drama

I

We have seen in an earlier chapter what had been achieved within the limits of the mythological drama proper, and also how it had fared with the attempts to introduce the Italian pastoral into England either by way of translation or of direct imitation. We have also seen how, in three notable compositions, three different and variously gifted artists had endeavoured to produce a form of pastoral drama suited to the requirements of the English stage, and how they had each in turn fallen short of complete success. We have now to consider a series of plays, less distinguished on the whole, though varying greatly in individual merit, which, amid the luxuriant growth of the romantic drama, tended, in a more spontaneous and less purposeful manner, towards the creation of something of a pastoral tradition. We shall find in these plays a considerable traditional influence, a groundwork, as it were, borrowed from the Arcadian drama of Italy, together with frequent elements owing their origin to plays of the mythological type. But in the great majority of cases we shall also find another influence, which will serve to differentiate these plays from those we have been hitherto concerned with.

This is the influence of the so-called pastoral romances of the Spanish type, which manifests itself in the introduction of characters and incidents, warlike, courtly, or adventurous, borrowed more or less directly from the works of writers such as Sidney, Greene, and Lodge.

Their influence was extended and enduring, and survived until, towards the middle of the seventeenth century, the fas.h.i.+onable tradition of the _Astree_ was introduced from France[291]. It was evinced both in a general manner and likewise in direct dramatic adaptation. Since the romances thus dramatized lay claim to a pastoral character, it will be necessary for us to examine as briefly as may be these stage versions, however little of the pastoral element may survive, as a preliminary to considering other plays in which the debt is less specific.

There are extant at least seven plays founded upon Sidney's _Arcadia_.[292] Since these appear to be wholly independent of one another, it will be convenient to disregard chronology, and to consider first those which have for subject the main story of the romance, four in number, and then the remaining three founded upon various incidents.

First, then, and most important, s.h.i.+rley's play bearing the same t.i.tle as the romance will claim our attention as the most full and faithful stage-rendering of Sidney's work. Although not printed till 1640 the play was, according to Mr. Fleay's plausible conjecture, performed on the king's birthdayas early as 1632. It cannot exactly be p.r.o.nounced a good play, but the dramatization is effected in a manner which does justice to the very great abilities of the author, and the same measure of success would probably not have been attained by any other dramatist of the time.

At the opening of the play we find that Basilius, king of Arcadia, has, in consequence of a threatening oracle, committed the government of his kingdom into the hands of a n.o.bleman Philanax, and retired into a rural 'desert' along with his wife Gynecia and his daughters Philoclea and Pamela. Here they live in company with the 'most arrant dotish clowne'

Dametas, his wife Miso and daughter Mopsa, rustic characters which supply a coa.r.s.ely farcical element in the plot, certainly no less out of place and inharmonious in the play than in the romance. There are also the cousins Pyrocles and Musidorus, son and nephew respectively to Euarchus, king of Thessaly, who have arrived in quest of the princesses' loves, and have obtained positions near the objects of their affection, the one disguised as an Amazon under the name of Zelmane, the other seeking service under Dametas and a.s.suming the name of Dorus. Complications, moreover, have already arisen, Basilius falling in love with the supposed Amazon, while Gynecia sees through the disguise and falls in love with the concealed Pyrocles. The disguised lover, in order to allay suspicion, has to feign a return of love to the queen and also to humour the dotage of the king, in the meanwhile revealing himself and his love to Philoclea, whom her father employs to court the affections of the Amazon. Musidorus, on his part, while pretending to court Mopsa, takes the opportunity of addressing his suit to Pamela. At length all is arranged, the princesses consenting to accompany their lovers in flight, and the various guardians being cleverly duped. Pyrocles gives rendezvous both to Basilius and Gynecia in a dark and lonely cave, Dametas is sent to dig for hidden treasure, Miso to seek her maligned husband in the house of one of her female neighbours, and Mopsa to await the coming of Apollo in the wis.h.i.+ng-tree. Musidorus and Pamela make for the coast, while Pyrocles goes to fetch his mistress Philoclea. While, however, he is endeavouring to persuade her to take the final and irrevocable step, they are both overcome by a strange drowsiness and are discovered by Dametas, who, disappointed of his treasure, has missed his charge Pamela and comes to give the alarm. Musidorus and his mistress on their side have been captured by outlaws, who, discovering their ident.i.ty, bring them back, hoping thereby to secure their own pardons. In the meantime, in the cave Gynecia has given Basilius by mistake for Zelmane a love potion, which turns out apparently to be a strong narcotic, for the king at once falls into a death-like trance, and the queen, discovering her mistake and overcome by shame and remorse, accuses herself publicly of having poisoned her husband, and is consequently put under guard. At this juncture Euarchus happens to arrive in search of his son and nephew, and consents to act as judge in the case. The princes, who for no apparent reason a.s.sume false names, are brought up for judgement and sentenced to death by Euarchus, whom, unaccountably enough, they fail to recognize. They are about to be led off to execution when Basilius, who is lying on a bier in the judgement hall, suddenly rises, the potion having spent its force.

Explanations and recognitions of course follow, the oracle is satisfactorily expounded, and all ends to the sound of marriage bells.

It will be seen that in spite of the description 'pastoral' which appears on the t.i.tle-page of the play, there is little or nothing of this nature to be found in the plot, and in this it is typical of all the plays founded upon Sidney's romance. The only pastoral element indeed is a sort of show or masque, presented by the rustic characters in company with certain shepherds, and even here little of a pastoral nature is visible beyond the characters of the performers. As a play, the _Arcadia_ is distinctly pleasing; the action is bright and easy, the gulling scenes are very entertaining, and some of the love scenes, notably that in which Pyrocles endeavours to persuade Philoclea to escape with him, are charmingly written. Take for instance the following pa.s.sage, in which the princess confesses her love:[293]

such a truth s.h.i.+nes in your language, and such innocence In what you call affection, I must Declare you have not plac'd one good thought here, Which is not answer'd with my heart. The fire Which sparkled in your bosom, long since leap'd Into my breast, and there burns modestly: It would have spread into a greater flame, But still I curb'd it with my tears. Oh, Pyrocles, I would thou wert Zelmane again! and yet, I must confess I lov'd thee then; I know not With what prophetick soul, but I did wish Often, thou were a man, or I no woman.

_Pyrocles._ Thou wert the comfort of my sleeps.

_Philoclea._ And you The object of my watches, when the night Wanted a spell to cast me into slumber; Yet when the weight of my own thoughts grew heavy For my tear dropping eyes, and drew these curtains, My dreams were still of thee--forgive my blushes-- And in imagination thou wert then My harmless bedfellow.

_Pyr._ I arrive too soon At my desires. Gently, oh gently, drop These joys into me! lest, at once let fall, I sink beneath the tempest of my blessings. (III. iv.)