among the many stories grief hath engraven in me, there is none,
compared with the disaster of Plangus and Erona, that deserves
compassion: Know therefore, my only happiness, that Plangus having
received advertisement how the nobleman, unto whose faithful custody
Erona (upon the accord between him and Artaxia) was delivered, being
hardly besieged by Plexirtus, and brought to an extremity by famine,
had yielded to a composition that if within five days he was not
succoured, he must deliver the castle, Plangus therefore over-running
the fame of his coming with his presence, the fifth night was near
Plexirtus’s camp, where (by one of the enemies whom his scouts had
taken) he was informed that late that evening, the keys of the city
and fort were given up to Plexirtus, but that he deferred his entry
till morning, leaving the next gate to the camp open that all night
his officers might prepare a magnificent triumph for him. As for
Erona, he would determine nothing of her until he had received the
honour due to his victory. At this news Plangus, causing the reporter
to be safely kept, and giving to his wearied soldiers some time to
refresh themselves after the toil endured in their last day’s travel,
an hour before day (rightly imagining the air was then apt to disperse
a dull sleepiness among Plexirtus’s careless soldiers) he calls his
troops together, and setting before them the easiness of the victory,
the riches of the camp, and the necessity of the time, he did
encourage them with the repetition of their former conquest in Amasia,
the justness of their cause, and the fame of their enterprise; and
then presently disposing of them for his most advantage, he sets upon
his enemy, who dreamed of nothing but security. But what should I
fright you, most dear lady, with the particulars of this fight; it
will suffice you to know that Plangus (doing things in his own person
past the power of expression) made a bloody slaughter among them. Some
few there were that escaped--among whom Plexirtus (fortune being
always indulgent to mischief) found in the speed of his horse a
dishonourable safeguard for his wretched life. This tumult being soon
perceived by the citizens (whom sorrow made watchful, and the
well-known treacheries of Plexirtus, suspicious) they as soon imagined
this was a practice of {666} his, contrary to his faith given, to sack
the town. This once conceived, it seemed by the hideous cries and
confused lamentations, that, as sorrow had put on the vizard of night
to make grief ugly, so black night had borrowed the mouth of sorrow to
implore compassion. The people leaving their walls and houses, ran to
their temples and altars, offering up, as they thought, their last
devotions to their gods. Nor did this mistake bring forth the effect
of mistrust only in the city; the camp had likewise this fear added to
their present misfortune; for Plexirtus’s soldiers (like satyrs,
frightened with the sound of the horn themselves blow) thinking the
vanguard of the enemy had entered the town, and caused this confusion,
durst not venture to make themselves masters of it; but between both,
unable to determine of a mean of safety, stood fixed in a stupid
irresolution.
“Meantime Aurora, weary of aged Titan’s bed, began to warn Phoebe of
her brother’s approach, when Erona who had set down in her settled
judgment, a death worthy the greatness of her birth, now first giving
ear to the cries of the citizens, and misdoubting the same false
measure they expected, and not long after, hearing a man armed coming
up the stairs to her lodging, she took a poisoned cup, long before for
that end prepared, and making haste lest she should be made a present
to the proud conqueror the wicked Plexirtus, she drank more than half,
when her eyes met with the eyes of Plangus, who, unfortunate
gentleman! desirous to be the messenger to Erona of Erona’s freedom,
had made this haste. The sight of Plangus stayed her full draught a
while; but, unable to satisfy herself how he might come thither, she
began to imagine that it was the force of the poison which dimmed her
eyes, and placed the character of Plangus (ever present to her mind)
upon each object. With this thought she was ready to begin again, when
Plangus, falling at her feet, let her know the event of so many
dangers undergone for her: whereat Erona being much astonished,
lifting him up from the ground, thus said: ‘Prince Plangus, you come
in a fit time to receive a hearty welcome, and as hearty a farewell.
What I mean by this leave-taking, alas! you will too soon know: Now
suffer me, only at such a time when the end will assure you I did not
flatter, speak a few words I would have you believe; yet I am sorry,
for your sake, I have practised such a mean to work a belief in you:
True it is, most excellent Plangus (nor let that truth accuse me of
inconstancy) that since the death of Antiphilus, whose memory even at
this time is dear to me, though at first the excess of sorrow had
closed up my mind from the thought of a second choice; yet, enforced
by your desert, and to reward mine own love in rewarding your desires,
I was resolved to satisfy you, and make myself {667} happy; but my
envious fate, finding the times fit to cause me to despair, hath made
yourself the instrument to bar our hopes for ever.’ ‘Dear Erona,’
replied the Prince, ‘what may there now be that the most partial
judgment can equal to the excess of content Plangus enjoys in the
welfare of his free and loving Erona? for this I have paid the
merciful heavens the tribute of my vows and tears: to this harbour,
through the sea of grief (having embarked my careful love in the ship
of my desire) I have always bent my course; and shall I now, when my
wishes be at anchor in so secure a haven, fear fortune? No, no, most
dear lady, you are the life and being of what I only esteem happy.’
‘Alas! Plangus,’ said the sweet Erona, ‘the testimonies of your love
have been so many that I fear (and only fear) they who have heard your
undeserved affection, and are not present at this my dying
protestation, will for ever record, together with my want of judgment,
my injury to your virtues.’ ‘Your dying protestation!’ said Plangus,
‘affright not my soul with such heavy news. Long may you live; the
Fates must be indulgent to your youth and beauty.’ ‘And perhaps,’ said
she, ‘so they might, had not myself hastened Clotho to cut in two the
half-spun thread of my life.’ And then she let him know how (to
prevent the tortures and disgraces Artaxia’s indignation had prepared
for her, seeing the city brought to that desperate state in which he
found it, and thinking himself to have been an officer sent by
Plexirtus to bring her before him) she had poisoned herself. Plangus
at these last words, with a fixed look upon Erona, as if his eyes
would for ever dwell there, indenting his hands, and suffering them to
fall down, or rather not able to stay them, sinks to the ground, and
was a while happy in this excess of sorrow that made him senseless of
all sorrow. Erona would have forced herself to help him, but this
sight (joined with the inward working of the poison) constrained her
to bear him company in his happy forgetfulness of his misfortunes. But
when, by the help of her women, her senses were restored, and that my
endeavours wrought the same effect on Plangus, as if this had been but
grief’s dumb show: ‘Alas! excellent Prince,’ said she, ‘what
unexpected effects hath the speech of my death brought forth; and yet
though I were silent, I believe the deadly signs in mine eyes, this
trembling in my full-swollen veins, and the often set and rise of the
blood in my cheeks, would express it. But, my Plangus, should you,
whom the world is proud of, take it so to heart? Erona loves you; why
so may a more deserving lady: Yet, Plangus, remember me, and it will
be the best part of my soul’s life to live in your memory.’ Then,
taking his hand, and placing it on her heart, that now proudly began
to beat the loud alarm of death, ‘Feel here,’ said she, ‘the battery
is begun, and this fort is abandoned of all the {668} powers of life,
only my desire to be with you, desperately a while keeps the breach.
But, O my Plangus!----’ and at that word death closed up in eternal
silence her tongue, that yet still moved as loth to leave her speech
imperfect.
“It was a desperate grief, and wild passion, that seized upon the
heart of the poor Plangus. ‘Accursed earth!’ did he say, ‘how darest
thou support the burden of these many mischiefs cast by the spiteful
heavens into this sink of misery? ’Twas I, Erona, brought an untimely
set to thy sun-shine of goodness; and do the heavens mean I should
breathe that have so much wronged them? What do they do? Will they
hear me speak that killed Erona? But they would have me live, to
torture me with the memory of my guilt. No, no, I will prevent their
project; that were a punishment fit for an ill-meant offence, not an
unfortunate.’ And with these words, drawing his sword, and lifting up
his bases, he would have run himself through the belly, but I stayed
his hand from so unmanly, as I then alleged it, a violence, forcing
(with the remembrance of our friendship, and my much prevailing tears)
the sword, but not his resolution from him. Then did I begin to allege
all that I thought in reason might remove him from this purpose; for
well I might see in the unappalled stayedness of his countenance, the
greatness of some determination. To all my objections, for a time, his
eyes gave a more heedful attention than did his ears; but when I came
to call his valour in question, whose unspotted memory hitherto, I
said, this last inconsiderate act would accuse of a little firm
constancy in bearing the changes of fortune; ‘Alas!’ said he, ‘and
will you, my friend, be cruel to me? Is it certain, Amphialus, that it
well becomes that courage you would have in your friend, to bear an
equal temper both in the frowns and smiles of fortune? And is it not
as certain that when the malice of heaven hath joined with fortune in
producing a monstrous effect, there cannot be left in man so infinite
a power of suffering which he dare oppose to such unlimited works? No,
I will not, giant-like, bandy against the gods; such is their will; I
must die.’ Then leading me softly over to Erona, as if he would
persuade me the violence of passion had not been his guide to this
resolution: ‘See Amphialus,’ said he, ‘this is she whom you would have
me to live after; what can mine eyes, now she is gone, desire to look
on! Erona, a woman, could die for Plangus, and would you have me wrong
mankind with a greater fear of death, or my love with a less desire to
die?’ This said (but with a countenance that promised no suddenness in
the execution, especially to me who was master of his sword, his only
offensive weapon) behold! with a downcast look, which sorrow excused,
though deceit had then, I am sure, put it on for further mischief,
{669} and such a pace as used slowness to the same end, he approached
the window, where the remains of Erona’s intercepted draught,
appointed by the destinies to be fatal to them both, stood in a gilt
cup: This he hastily takes, and as hastily drinks off. I, all
confused, pale and trembling, as if the poison had wrought its effect
in me, made, alas! too slow speed to him. But Plangus (now first
presenting an unfeigned cheerfulness in his looks, as if this draught
had given him life) kneeling near Erona: ‘Divine soul,’ said he, ‘if
confidence in thy Plangus’s constancy makes thee hover near this
sacred mansion of thine to see the end of his sufferings, O stay
awhile, and bear me with thee; thy presence, when I appear before
Radamanth, will be a countenance to my cause.’ Then turning himself to
me, ‘Amphialus, revenge, Amphialus, Erona’s death upon the wicked
Plexirtus; his blood will be the best sacrifice to my ghost. Lead the
army to Byzantium and restore the Amasian hostage.’ Then putting his
trembling lips to the pale lips of Erona, he coldly kissed away his
life.
“What my sorrow was, to be a looker on these tragedies, these tears,
even at the remembrance of that time, may testify; yet leaving the
bodies to be embalmed with the nobleman, who, in her life-time, had
been faithful to Erona, dissembling the death of Plangus, lest it
should work an innovation among the soldiers, with some choice troops
of light horsemen, I followed Plexirtus, who, posting to court, had
received advertisement from thence, how Arguto (the admirable engine
by whom he wrought much mischief) being lately fallen from the faith
vowed to his practices, had revealed to Artaxia the purpose his master
had to dispatch her out of his way, since now he had a son by her to
whom he might be guardian, esteeming it more content to be great alone
than to share the royalties of her own kingdom with Artaxia. These
news made his flight as dangerous as would be his stay; but when he
understood (for the heavens had made this the rendezvous where his
misfortunes should meet) that the Princes of Thessaly and Macedon, of
whom his treacheries were to expect their just reward, did live, and
should be happy in the addition of Arcadia to their greatness; that
Leonatus had seized upon his seigniories in Trebizond for his treason
to Pyrocles and Musidorus, of which not long before he had gloriously
boasted; that there was no new form of dissimulation left, to which,
in this extremity, he might have recourse: O then the ugliness of his
guilty conscience, that until this time had made peace with his
wickedness, presented before him the progress of his ill-spent days,
drawn to life in the colours of despair: now his father, now his
friends, Tydeus and Telenor were summoned by his soul to make party
against him. In this fright he continued all that day, {670} which
scarce was time sufficient for him to read over his misdeeds, and when
the silent night, drawn in her ebon chariot, had spread her curtains
to hide her brother’s face, Plexirtus, glad to see her flatter his
mind in this likeness of darkness, resolved, by despair, that the gods
wanted mercy for his faults, and well-assured men had less, he
secretly went into a garden, to which a back-door from his chamber led
him; where, loathing as much to die, as wishing he were dead, he spent
some time in execrations on himself. At length, tying a cord (newly
taken out of his bed) to the stump of an elder tree that stood with
such convenience as if it would invite him to that exercise, he
slipped into his death, easing the earth until morning of the burden
of so detestable a wretch.
“But when the day appeared, and made known his death, the magistrates
of the town, striving who could be best-sighted in the discovery of
the murder, hoping to have the reward of their diligence from the
Queen Artaxia, soon found out, as a man to be most suspected, the
messenger come from court, whom Plexirtus had, till late in the night,
kept in his chamber, to know of him the particulars of Arguto’s
revolt. This fellow, because none more likely in the wild form of
their popular justice, was to die a thousand manner of deaths; but he
making just protestations of his innocency, being questioned what
occasion he had so long to stay the last night with the king if not
for that end, he plainly let them know what Arguto discovered, which
he then reported to Plexirtus. The many-headed multitude called not
the truth much in question of what they heard, but with the same
violence as before, everyone, in this also thinking to gratify the
queen, ran to as uncertain a form of execution on the dead as they did
before to a judgment of the living; first they stripped the body
naked, then dragged it through the streets; now they open his belly
and suffer his guts to mark forth his progress, doing many more
indignities to him who had deserved many more. I much rejoiced to hear
Plexirtus had been so just to himself; yet I determined to join
Erona’s revenge on Artaxia to Plexirtus’s judgment on himself; but her
an untimely death had freed from my revenge, for taking to the heart
Plexirtus’s treacheries, and her brother Tyridates’s unrevenged death,
she calmly gave herself over to a life-oppressing grief, leaving her
kingdom and young son to the care of Salindor, whom she appointed
protector during the minority.
“Returning, therefore, somewhat grieved that both Plangus and Erona’s
death without my help had been revenged, I conveyed the bodies to
Lycia, where the sumptuousness of their tombs shows their estates, and
their everlasting fame their ever-living virtues. {671} From hence I
would have parted private, but remembering Plangus’s last will, I
passed through Amasia, restoring his son to the Duke, and coming to
Byzantium, I gave up my charge into the hands of Lisantus a
Macedonian, leaving the soldiers full of hearty sorrow for the death
of Plangus their general.
“Soon after, hearing of your death, and resolved to sacrifice my blood
to your memory, to disengage myself of some part of my faultiness,
leaving Fidutio in Thrace, lest by him I should be discovered,
disguising myself in an armour, fitly, as I thought, presenting the
massacre of my naked heart; passing the court of Elis and Argos, and,
lastly, coming hither, I met (what should I more say?) with thee my
Helen, reserved to be a blessing beyond what most I could desire.”
And so, with a sincere servency, kissing her hand, they both walked
towards the palace, where, having ended supper, where Basilius and
Euarchus, with the rest, expected a mask prepared for them; the Queen
of Corinth let them know what she had heard of Plangus and Erona,
together with Plexirtus’s deserved end, and the death of Artaxia. The
audience greatly pitied their fortunes, especially Pyrocles, who much
grieved to hear of Plangus’s death, for the love he bore his virtues,
and was no less troubled at Plexirtus’s mischance, for his dear
servant Zelmane’s sake. But the entry of the maskers caused him to put
over those thoughts to more solitariness, his eye being fed with
dainty variety of representations, and his ears with most harmonious
well-agreeing music, to which the footing kept so good time, that
doubtful it was whether the music conformed itself to the life of
their motion, or the masters their motion to the music’s liveliness.
But night (masked in these sports) crept on undiscovered; and though
Pyrocles and Musidorus at other times would dispense with the length
of the sports, yet now, in respect of the armfuls of joy they were to
expect in bed, they thought them tedious; which once perceived, their
dances were sooner at an end than was intended.
Thus days and nights passed over, as if they had no other sphere than
delight to move in; and the appointed time for Amphialus’s marriage
was at hand, to which Basilius invited the shepherds, both to change
their daily pleasures, as also to show Euarchus that though a greater
cause had moved him to the solitary course of life by him embraced,
yet the wits of Arcadia, and the pleasantness of their harmless life,
might have drawn him to that retiredness.
THE ECLOGUES
{672}
Kalodulus now minded to marry his daughter, and uncertain whether he
should bestow her on the contended young Arcadian Menalcas, or the
much having, much wanting Thessalian Corydon, who both were then
present, hearing of this summons; puts over their cause to be
determined by Basilius; and Strephon and Claius, no less desirous to
bring Urania’s name to court, joined themselves to the rest. Nor was
Agelastus wanting, who, not for a mistress, but, Heraclitus-like,
thinking man was made to mourn, and repining at the vanity of
greatness, had maintained a religious sorrow. No sooner was the
company set, and that their silence began to proclaim their
expectation, but Strephon, who, before his coming, had prepared an
Epithalamium, began thus to sing.
STREPHON
Sweet link of hearts, joy’s surest anchor-hold,
Love’s peaceful crown, the harbour of desires,
Hymen, approach, but think not Pan too bold,
If to invoke thy name our love aspires.
Dwell here for ever, that this couple may
Renew the blessings of their marriage-day.
Firm be their root of love, and cause a bliss,
From forth this royal happy stock to spring;
That all the world may justly say, he is
Worthy to be, and to succeed a king.
But shorten not their days; for ’tis decreed,
The best can be but worthy to succeed.
Amphialus thanked Strephon for his hearty wishes; but he had scarce
ended, when Claius, looking upon him with as sour a countenance as
their friendship could allow, thus said:
CLAIUS
I pray thee, Strephon, if these glorious shows
Of court’s admired greatness, do not close
Thy mind from former thoughts, where can thy lays
Find other subject than Urania’s praise?
Or, dost thou fondly think, thou wert to blame
To breathe among these lords Urania’s name?
Or, is it certain that her flames in thee
Are quench’d, that lately doubled were in me?
{673}
STREPHON
Nor so, nor thus; that verse I last day made,
As with my flock I sat in Hestar’s shade:
I studied it, yet all my study was,
I vow, to strive to let Urania pass.
For ’twas the only name my pen would write,
My thoughts imagine, or my lips indite.
Am I not bold when night’s vast stage is set,
And all the stars and heavenly audience met,
To speak my mind, while their bright twinkling flame
Seems to rejoice to hear Urania’s name?
And shall I fear that what the heaven’s approv’d,
By men (though great men) should be disallow’d?
But where you think that I have check’d mine eye,
And freed your Strephon from their treachery:
O no, mine is the giant Titius’s maw,
That doth increase to feel a vulture’s paw.
CLAIUS
No day runs over, but my love’s deep sore
Renews his pain, and festers more and more:
Alas! where’s pity then? belike it flies
The place we come to, frighted with our cries.
STREPHON
Pity! why friend, ’tis certain that their eyes,
Who know they can o’ercome, learn to despise:
Yet, Claius, why should we repine? our saint
Is pleas’d sometime to hear our love’s complaint.
And if mine eyes, to ease my inward pain,
Become not flatterers, she doth not disdain.
CLAIUS
Disdain! that were a bliss, so great a weight
Might lift our sorrows to their utmost height;
And then, perhaps, our own despair would mend
Our ling’ring hopes, that must or break, or bend.
O no, ours is a worse calamity,
A heedless care, and careless courtesy.
Then Claius pausing a while, with crossed arms and a downcast look,
began again these following verses to Strephon, whom he spoke to as
representing the person of sorrow.
CLAIUS
Foul Sorrow, wilt thou alway build thy nest
In the wild mountains of thy care-swollen breast?
{674}
STREPHON
O yes, I find it happy for my breed,
And near your heart, whereon I use to feed.
CLAIUS
But, gentle grief, if not for pity, spare
Me for Urania’s sake: she hath a share
In these my wounds, and she must feel the smart,
Whose image’s carv’d so lively in my heart.
STREPHON
O no, she shares no pain, from whose fair eyes
The wound did first, and now the cure must rise.
CLAIUS
Why, gentle grief, thou’rt witness of my love;
Then always sigh my plaints, until you move.
STREPHON
O no, there’s too much rigor in such laws,
They bind a man to speak against his cause.
Suppose I move, this is my recompense;
Joy must succeed, and I am banish’d hence.
CLAIUS
Then must I die unpitied, no help’s found,
Since you, my spokesman, do conceal my wound.
STREPHON
O no, let not that make us to despair:
She knows we love her, but she knows she’s fair.
When they ended, Musidorus (in whose memory their courtesy to him, had
engraven a beholdingness) forgot not to approve what they had said.
But the audience had little time to determine whether they deserved
what the Prince thought them worthy of, when Corydon, who longed to
hear the debate between him and Menalcas, for Kalodulus’s daughter,
ended, clapping him on the shoulder, thus said:
CORYDON
Fond beardless boy! now shall the chastisement
(Fit for thy rash youth’s unweigh’d attempt)
Fall heavy on thee; but you may relent,
I’ll not be cruel if you do repent.
{675}
O no, you will not, you’ll be always blind,
That graceless smile betrays thy scornful mind.
Sing then, and show these goodly dotes in thee,
With which thy brainless youth can equal me.
MENALCAS
Grey-bearded frenzy, what canst thou allege,
To shun my blows, but thy age’s privilege?
Thy tongue may safely snarl, while his offence
Is still protected by that reverence.
The dotes, old dotard, I can bring to prove
Myself deserves that choice, are only love.
A priceless treasure, not to be express’d,
A guest too great for thy cough-breeding breast.
CORYDON
Young man, thou speak’st as if thy brains were wood;
Who can determine of that inward good?
I say, I love, and will Menalcas grieve
That all the world should Corydon believe?
But, that’s not it, these flames will soon decay,
If they be not maintain’d some other way.
A thousand sheep I have, whose snow-white fleece,
Do add a lustre to these parts of Greece:
On whom as many lambs do wait hard by,
That wear their dams white curled livery.
O! what a joy will’t be to her I love;
Each morn, and even, to see her sheep remove
From field to fold, while she may freely say,
That lamb is fat, that lamb I’ll eat to-day?
MENALCAS
Blind fortune, I’ll confess, hath given you more:
Yet I am richer, my content’s my store.
A thousand sheep thou hast, ’tis very like,
But thy diseases want Arithmetic.
Nature between our years a marriage made,
We bloom together, and at once may fade.
But your old age is gone too far before,
Time beats you on, and you’ll return no more.
CORYDON
Hasty young man, do not despise the end
To which yourself, as to a centre, bend.
What, if I want your body’s active toys,
My settled mind a greater good enjoys.
{676}
MENALCAS
Old man, thou speak’st, as if thy brains were wood;
Who can determine of that inward good?
Think’st thou, will that sweet beauty take delight
To hear thee cough a proverb in the night?
O no, there are some other joys in bed,
She must partake whom you desire to wed.
Corydon, inwardly out of countenance to hear his own words bite so
sore upon him, would have shrunk away, but hoping he had found a judge
whom the cause concerned stood a while to attend what Basilius would
have said. But the King put it over to Musidorus, who (glad to find an
occasion to pleasure Menalcas, his first master in the practice of a
shepherd’s life) thus ended it.
“Corydon,” said he, “could I as well lop away some of your over-grown
years, to make your match with Kalodulus’s daughter equal, as I can
add to Menalcas’s state, I would, for a time, suspend my judgment: for
readily I know not whether of you two deserves best: but in the one,
my power seconds my will; as in the other, my will over-goes my power.
Kalodulus’s daughter I therefore adjudge to Menalcas, and I will make
him worthy of her, the rather, that I know his rash youth would
impatiently bear a repulse, where your experience (when it reflects
upon itself), with more discretion may consider she was but a woman.”
Glad was Menalcas to speed so well: nor was Corydon displeased,
because the Prince, as he conceived, had entertained a good opinion of
his wisdom. Thus, when they ended, Pyrocles, who marked Agelastus’s
silent pensiveness, desired to hear him disburden his mind of the
thoughts that brought him to so deep a study: thinking that Agelastus
stood fixed, with the eye of his mind cast upon the beauty of some
fair mistress: but he, who thought of nothing less, thus answered his
expectation.
AGELASTUS
Nor fate, nor fortune, whose enforcing power,
Man still complains upon his state to lower,
Do work these changes: man himself’s the cause;
They be but wheels that keep their mover’s laws:
Yet alway, when he sees his fault too late,
He turns it over upon chance, or fate.
Each man is born a king, his passions be
The practice of his sovereignty:
Who, though they still their sovereign’s good pretend,
Conspire his ruin for their private end.
The love of skin-thick beauty draws his eye
To yield to love, his reason’s majesty.
{677}
His fear throws bugbears in his way; his state
Is still infested by revengeful hate.
His idle grief, for what he might prevent,
Or might not, doth usurp his government.
Thus he, whom God ordain’d a king to be,
Obeys his subjects, and is never free.
Besides, whose state’s so firm, into whose way
The world flings not his joy’s injurious stay?
The surges of the deep, whose joys devour
The merchant’s far-fetch’d hopes, the skies that pour
A second deluge on the ploughman’s corn,
When now his fields are ready to be shorn:
The soldiers long remote, the doubtful chance
Of bloody war, the new-found ordinance;
The city-horns, the court’s brave flattery,
Do force content to dwell with poverty.
Then looking round upon the princes, as if by their survey he were
again enabled to speak, he thus said:
Honour, thou spongy idol of man’s mind,
That soak’st content away, thou hast confin’d.
Ambitious man, and not his destiny,
Within the bounds of form and ceremony.
Oh! happy life of shepherds, whose content
Rests in a soul that’s free and innocent;
They stay their lodging, and remove their roof,
Not for their own, but for their flock’s behoof.
While some (to fill the blanks of their mean story)
Do travel in their cares, to gain vain-glory,
They never leave the plains, unless, sometime,
To look about them, they the mountains climb:
But dwell not there; for ev’n this change doth show
What choicer sweets they do enjoy below:
Here the rough winds do buzz about their ears,
The rocky steepness adds unto their fears:
Here they are ready to be torn asunder,
By malice’s hateful blasts, and envy’s thunder:
From hence they may descend; but, greatness, stay,
If you come down, it must be th’ other way:
For ’tis a bliss, on which your honour shares,
That though you would, you cannot leave your cares.
When Agelastus ended, the company might see a man who seemed to be
misfortune’s herald, with a rope about his neck, make towards the
Queen of Corinth, and cast himself at her feet. They, thinking it had
been some shepherdish invention, expected awhile the conceit of it:
but approaching, after a time, nearer to him, they might discern it
was Tenarus the usurper of Corinth, {678} who, hearing of the Queen’s
welfare, and her happy marriage to Amphialus (finding in his own
practice for the crown the Corinthians aptness to embrace change, and
considering the powerfulness of his enemies) had come thither, in the
basest form of humbleness to set a belief upon his submission. Him the
Queen (because he was a suitor on her marriage-day) pardoned, and
restored to his possessions, forfeited by his treason to the crown;
only she caused his liberty to be restrained until her going to
Corinth, whither, after she had taken leave of Basilius, and the rest
of the royal company, she took her journey; making Amphialus, within a
year after her departure, a happy father of a much-promising son, whom
they named Heleamphialus. Euarchus also, soon after, with his son
Pyrocles and Philoclea, and his nephew Musidorus, together with Pamela
(who was desirous both to accompany her sister, and to see her mother
of Thessaly) parted from Mantinea; leaving Basilius and Gynecia, when
they had accompanied them to the frontiers of Arcadia, to the happy
quiet of their after-life.
Tu longe sequere & vestigia semper adoro,
Sidnei----
Statius.
FINIS.
ENDNOTES
INTRODUCTION NOTES
[i01]
The French prose says simply that King Arthur was at Carlisle: the
poem takes twenty verses to tell how “When Titan with his lusty heat
had made his court for twenty days in Aries, and all with divers hues
had apparelled the fields and branches … in this time the worthy
conqueror, Arthur, who had the flower of all the chivalry of this
world pertaining to his crown, so passing were his knightes in renown,
was at Carlisle, etc.” Then the prose records that the king went one
morning early into the woods to hunt. This the verse expands into ten
lines describing the hunt. In another place the French says, “Et quant
il fut entre en la bataille il fist sonner ses busines tant que tout
en retentissoit.” This the Scots turns into,
“Up goith the trumpetis, and the claryownis,
Hornys, bugillis blawing furth thar sownis,
That al the cuntre resownit hath about;
Than Arthuris folk var in dispar and dout,
That hard the noys, and saw the multitud,
Of fresch folk; thai cam as thai war wod.”
The Black Knight says, “Seigneurs, vous estes tous amys du roy. Or y
perra comment vous le ferez.” This is the sole foundation for
thirty-one lines in the Scots poem, including a response from his
followers that is not in the prose. The Scot uses his material freely,
translating faithfully when a mere pedestrian course was sufficient,
letting himself go when his imagination was aroused. He is more vivid
and circumstantial in narrative, fuller and more sensuous in
description. Take the following; French, “Et fut a leur venue le
chevalier noir mis a terre; Et aussi les six compaignons qui toute
jour avoyent este pres de luy;” Scots,
“The blak knycht is born on to the ground,
His horse hyme fallith, that fellith dethis wound.
The vi falowis, that falowith hyme al day,
Sich was the press, that to the erth go thay.”
A good deal of this expansion is obviously occasioned by the demands
of metre and rhyme.
[i02]
Mr H. R. Plomer, in an interesting paper contributed to the _Library_,
vol. i. (New Series), pp. 195-205, shows that this was a pirated
edition; and perhaps the same is the case with the Dublin edition of
1739, mentioned below.
[i03]
See Wood’s “Athen. Oxon.,” fol. p. 226.
[i04]
See his “Life,” written by Sir Fulke Greville, Kt. Lord Brook. Printed
Ann. 1652, 8vo, p. 5.
[i05]
Wood, _ut supra_.
[i06]
See his “Life,” _ut supra_, p. 8.
[i07]
See Wood, p. 227.
[i08]
_Annal. Camdeni, sub. Ann._ 1581.
[i09]
_Ibid. Ann._ 1582.
[i10]
Published 1590 (_Ibid._ i. 324).
[i11]
First printed, 1591.
[i12]
First printed, 1595.
[i13]
See Wood, _ut supra_.
[i14]
See his “Life,” _ut supra_, p. 142 _et seq._
[i15]
Sir Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester.
[i16]
See his “Life,” _ut supra_, p. 165.
[i17]
Camd. Brit. in Kent.
[i18]
See Wood, _ut supra_.
[i19]
See his “Life,” prefixed to the last edition folio.
[i20]
Viz. 16th October 1586.
[i21]
The title of the Oxford verses published upon the death of our author.
[i22]
We cannot fix the date, nor on what occasion this great appearance of
nobility was then at Oxford, only that the Earl of Leicester was high
chancellor of that University.
[i23]
In opposition to Philip of Spain.
BOOK I NOTES
[b1-01]
_running at Base_] The old game of prisoner’s-base, then a common
rustic pastime.
[b1-02]
_recklessness_] _i.e._ Carelessness. See Spencer.
[b1-03]
_ruefully_] Woefully.
[b1-04]
_Tarantula_] A venomous Spider (so called from Tarento a city of
Naples) whose bite is of such a nature, that it is to be cured only by
music.
[b1-05]
_Quintain_] A rural sport, chiefly used at marriages, wherein, running
a tilt on horse-back with poles, at a large stake fixed in the ground,
against which, he that breaks most poles, gains the prize.
[b1-06]
_Barley-break_] Running-matches made by the country girls, with each
other, as hereafter described.
BOOK II NOTES
[b2-01]
_gols_] Hands.
BOOK III NOTES
[b3-01]
_sowed_] _i.e._ Scattered.
[b3-02]
_sow_] _i.e._ Spread.
[b3-03]
_Keep_] _i.e._ A strong tower in the middle of a castle, the last
resort of the besieged.
[b3-04]
_vampalt_] _i.e._ A gauntlet, or iron glove.
[b3-05]
_Atropos_] One of the three sisters which are said to cut the thread
of life.
[b3-06]
_Catoblepa_] The Catoblepa is a beast bred near the rise of Nile. See
_Pin_, Nat. Hist.
[b3-07]
_paven_] _i.e._ A dance.
[b3-08]
A chasm being occasioned in this place, by the loss of some of the
Author’s invaluable papers; it was excellently supplied, as follows,
by Sir W. A.
[b3-09]
From hence the history is again continued out of the author’s Papers.
If this little essay have not that perfection which is required for
supplying the want of that place for which it was intended, yet shall
it serve for a shadow to give a lustre to the rest. I have only herein
conformed myself to that which preceded my beginning, and was known to
be that admirable author’s own, but to differ in some things from that
which follows, especially in the death of Philisides, making choice of
a course, whereby I might best manifest, what affection I bear to the
memory of him, whom I took to be alluded unto by that name, and whom I
only by this imperfect parcel (designing more) had a mind to honour.
_W. A._
[b3-10]
The superscripted numbers in this song appear _above_ the preceding
word in the source text.--Transcriber.
BOOK V NOTES
[b5-01]
_Knights of the Order_] Of the Garter.
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
The title-page to the 1593 edition--taken from _The Complete Works of
Sir Philip Sidney_, Volume II (Cambridge, 1922)--is used as a cover.
Amongst the different editions _Bithynia_ and _Pontus_ are sometimes
used interchangeably.
Some instances of “lower(ing)” should be pronounced “lour(ing).”
Endnote markers are given in [square] brackets, and page-numbers in
{curly} brackets.
The following editions were consulted for most of the changes listed
below: 10th edition, printed by William Du-Gard (London, 1655); 14th
edition, printed for E. Taylor, et al. (3 vol., London, 1724-1725);
Samson Low, Son, & Marston (London, 1868); and Penguin Classics
(London, 1987).
Some minor spelling inconsistencies (_e.g._ gray/grey, sheep-hook/sheep
hook/sheephook, etc.) have been preserved.
Alterations to the text:
Abandon the use of drop-caps.
Convert footnotes to endnotes.
Correct/regularize the spelling of character names.
Decouple ligatured Latin characters.
Modernize/regularize the spelling of: befel (befell), Bithinia
(Bithynia), Bizantium (Byzantium), Cameleon (Chameleon), chastly
(chastely), chrystal (crystal), dolor (dolour), dulness (dullness),
e’er (ere), e’re (ere), enterprize (enterprise), fancie (fancy),
fulness (fullness), gastful (ghastful), Hircania (Hyrcania), impressa
(impresa), jerfaulcon (gyrfalcon), letchery (lechery), lilly (lily),
loathesome (loathsome), Mantinæa (Mantinea), me seems (meseems),
Missenia (Messenia), o’re (o’er), Panonia (Pannonia), porphyrie
(porphyry), pye (pie), recompence (recompense), Seistine (Sestine),
spie (spy), subtilty (subtlety), Trebisond (Trebizond), unchastly
(unchastely), vail (veil), wherof (whereof), woful (woeful). Note: old
word forms (_e.g._ dost, gat, sith, spake, etc.) have been preserved.
Punctuation is largely preserved save for the following changes:
quotation mark pairings/nestings, possessives lacking apostrophes,
missing periods, direct addresses lacking commas, etc. Also adjust
some hyphenation: far fetched (far-fetched), illwill (ill-will), straw
coloured (straw-coloured), etc.
Miscellaneous: farther/further, passed/past, than/then, and
their/there.
Minor formatting changes to some songs and eclogues.
[Introductory matter]
“Jorge de Montemayor, the author of _Diana Enamorada_” change _Diana
Enamorada_ to _Diana_. (Jorge de Montemayor wrote _Diana_; Gaspar Gil
Polo wrote _Diana Enamorada_, a continuation of Montemayor’s work.)
Change “they put wild _improbabilites_ in the place” to
_improbabilities_.
“made therein an absolute _heroicall_ poem” to _heroical_.
“love in its various aspects; Helen, Queen of Corinth...” change
semicolon to comma.
“of Elizabethan prose, the false _antithees_” to _antitheses_.
“of the older romances In imitation of Montemayor” add period after
_romances_.
“London, Printed in the _Yer_ MDCCXXV” to _Year_.
Change a few instances of “Fulke _Grevil_” to “Fulke _Greville_”,
“Robert _Walde-graue_” to “Robert _Waldegrave_”, and _Johnstoun_ to
_Johnstone_.
“which _brake_ the bone of his thigh” to _broke_.
“his will, and settling his _wordly_ affairs” to _worldly_.
[Book I]
“that as our remembrance came _everclothed_ unto us in the” to _ever
clothed_.
“it is _nor_ for me to attend so high a blissfulness” to _not_.
“to set on all the _canvass_ he could and fly” to _canvas_.
“nor yet _flubbered_ up with good fellowship” to _slubbered_.
“he thought _migh_ either profit or gratify” to _might_.
“his countenance could not but with _dum_ eloquence” to _dumb_.
“courage, and _largness_ of magnificence” to _largeness_.
“small a boat) doth so _overway_ poor Dametas” to _oversway_.
“_This_ much now that I have told you is nothing” to _Thus_.
“Oh no, _He_ cannot be good that knows” to _he_.
“by the skilfullest trencher-men of _Medea_” to _Media_.
“one of the Kalander’s servants rounded in his ear” delete _the_.
“not able longer to to control herself” delete one _to_.
“so famous over the the world as Argalus” delete one _the_.
“and _whetttng_ their courage with revenge” to _whetting_.
“was acquainted with _strategems_) invented” to _stratagems_.
“to set fire in _the all_ parts of Greece” to _all the_.
“was surpassing it in bravery of _fighing_” to _fighting_.
“wavering between looking for _same_ stratagem” to _some_.
“upon _oach_ never to bear arms against the Helots” to _oath_.
“this office be not. perchance, suitable to my” change period to
comma.
“so ugly to behold, For my part” change comma to period.
“having set out some _gallies_ under the charge” to _galleys_.
“of so many things united in _perfecion_” to _perfection_.
“so perfect a _plat_ of the celestial dwellings” to _plot_.
“_shortenened_ the way’s length, till they came” to _shortened_.
“which Pyrocles had written before he went _a hunting_” to
_a-hunting_.
“take a _bye-way_ which might lead to Kalander’s” to _byway_.
“the less curiously _inquisive_ after them” to _inquisitive_.
“Where are all _hereoic_ parts but in Amphialus” to _heroical_.
“and thus much _villiany_ am I content” to _villainy_.
“at the _olympian_ games there celebrated” to _Olympian_.
“because I wear a woman’s _apparal_” to _apparel_.
“since it hath an end _alloted_ unto it” to _allotted_.
“be in as great _exellency_ in yourself” to _excellency_.
“a wonted kind of desire to see rare _fights_” to _sights_.
“the Amazons: myself _neice_ to Senicia, queen” to _niece_.
“_Jupitor_ when he was in the form of an eagle” to _Jupiter_.
“under and carried it _ahout_ as a mill” to _about_.
“the next day early to come _a foot_ thither” to _afoot_.
“known him further than by report of his good _justing_” to
_jousting_.
“by a certain _Sycionian_ knight, was lost” to _Sicyonian_.
“breath a mortal mislike against Basilius,” change comma to period.
“to make him miserable by the _fight_ of Philoclea” to _sight_.
“even when the sun, like a noble _hart_” to _heart_.
“The injury seemed _grievious_, but when it came” to _grievous_.
“heavenly or hellish title thou _lift_ to have” to _list_.
“she leaped up, and ran to the _lodge ward_” to _lodge-ward_.
“so that it was a new _fight fortune_ had prepared” to _sight
Fortune_.
“guided with such _traiterous_ eyes” to _traitorous_.
“Till I get her, shall I to keep _innure_ myself?” to _inure_.
“And love _with lovers hurt_ is inhumanity” to _which lover hurts_.
“No _thral_ like them that inward bondage have” to _thrall_.
“And lives in _fancy_ seeing,” to _fancy’s_.
“Gynecia’s but that she _fouud_ too well” to _found_.
“hillock show, by the lofty _olympus_” to _Olympus_.
“love is better _tban_ a pair of spectacles” to _than_.
“Busy with _oker_ did their shoulders mark” to _ochre_.
“As bragging that free of all _passions none_” to _passions’ moan_.
“And that the _byass_ of her blood was wrought” to _bias_.
“But _lickrous_, poison’d, fain to her would go” to _lick’rous_.
“but game, the _self hurt wonton_ meant” to _self-hurt wanton_.
“_A field_ they go, where many lookers be” to _Afield_.
“Like some which seek to salve their _blooted_ name” to _blotted_.
“A hasten’d hare from greedy _grayhound_ go” to _greyhound_.
“And then the _Phænix_ feared to be caught” to _Phoenix_.
[Book II]
“had at _least wise_ produced thus much happiness” to _leastwise_.
“no faint pleasure could _with-hold_ him” to _withhold_.
“Thus having delivered _his_ tale in this perplexed manner” to _my_.
“banished all vain fancy of _superstitution_” to _superstition_.
“heavenly bodies there are great hidden _dieties_” to _deities_.
“lone to take the ring Wherein truly at least” add period after
_ring_.
“One time he danced the _matachine_ dance” to _matachin_.
“have made a _handerchief_ by that time a-day” to _handkerchief_.
“_Let_ the sweetness of virtue’s disposition, jealous” to _Yet_.
“whom _see_ was half ashamed she did love so well” to _she_.
“from them and, as it were two _counter-ballances_” to
_counter-balances_.
“made partaker of this _oft-binding_ light” to _oft-blinding_.
“whether the heavens at that time _lifted_ to play” to _listed_.
“that they might fill the sails as they _lifted_” to _listed_.
“the more _way-ward_ it showed itself towards them” to _wayward_.
“already he had been apt to _determinine_” to _determine_.
“and thinking to make all men _a dread_” to _adread_.
“both make ostentation of his his own felicity” delete one _his_.
“spots he _artifically_ put upon his face” to _artificially_.
“I needed envy no _farther_ for the chief comfort” to _father_.
“having only with them the two _valiaut_ brothers” to _valiant_.
(that occasion, _I_ kneeled down, and with humble heartedness, and
hearty earnestness printed in _my_ graces; “Alas!” said _I_,) to _he_,
_his_, and _he_, respectively.
“the river not running _forth right_” to _forthright_.
“they began by _piece-meal_ to take away the eclipsing” to
_piecemeal_.
“The second-sweetly _senced word_” to _fenced ward_.
“Like _pomels_ round of marble clear;” to _pommels_.
“Perching within square royal _roves_” to _rooves_.
“Which _conduite_-like with curious crooks,” to _conduit_.
“he was driven with the _pummel_ of his sword” to _pommel_.
“a mile hence, and crossing a _high-way_” to _highway_.
“To _cause full-wrath_, which thou can’st not resist” to _causeful
wrath_.
“Can thoughts still thinking, so rest _unapalled_?” to _unappalled_.
“And in thy case do _glaze_ mine own debility:” to _glass_.
“The wretch compell’d a _runnagate_ became,” to _runagate_.
“but humbly besought Pamela _we_ should perform” to _she_.
“could not but _fertily_ requite his father’s fatherly” to
_fertilely_.
“thou now receive this disastered _changling_” to _changeling_.
“keeping a countenance _ascances_ she understood” to _askance_.
“with all the _conjuriug_ words which desire could indite” to
_conjuring_.
“unto me to meet him at a place _appionted_” to _appointed_.
“have left such an _off-spring_, in shape” to _offspring_.
“those servants of _our’s_ in readiness” to _ours_.
“thereto had she that _scutchion_ of her desires” to _scutcheon_.
“who had been one of the _cheifest make-bates_” to _chiefest
makebates_.
“laying indifferently among _tbem_, made such havoc” to _them_.
“meaning to observe a _wassailling_ watch all” to _wassailing_.
“seemed to sing _mauger_ the _mauses_” to _maugre_ and _Muses_.
“which being _confrmed_ with presagious chances” to _confirmed_.
“dull to any _behooful_ resolution” to _behoveful_.
“marking eyes, he conferred _wtth_ Antiphilus” to _with_.
“some hazard he might be in _apparant_ likelihood” to _apparent_.
“she had even newly _recelved_ news from” to _received_.
“which _multipled_ the force of his anguish” to _multiplied_.
“by so _henious_ a treason murdered” to _heinous_.
“Thy _faint_ is dead, or dead is thy devotion” to _saint_.
“although my _mettall_ were most mutable” to _metal_.
“I curse the _fidling_ finders out of music” to _fiddling_.
“On _rock’d_ despair, the burial of my bliss” to _rock_.
“The seed _saft meaning_ is, no truth to miss” to _fast-meaning_.
“Hailstones of tears, of _sight_ a monstrous blast,” to _sighs_.
“Be those despairs which have my hopes quite _waft_” to _rased_.
“For even the herbs our hateful music _destroyes_” to _stroys_.
“Who minds to please the mind drown’d in _annoyes_” to _annoys_.
“For proof of man, _woo_ sprung of heav’nly fire” to _who_.
“One _faith_, he mocks; another _faith_ he plays,” change both to
_saith_.
“Yet thou art mickle _warse_, then e’er was I” to _worse_.
“When that we see our _off-spring_ gaily bent” to _offspring_.
“And what manner a mind which had to that humour a _vain_?” to _vein_.
“Can then a cause be so light that forceth a man to go die? _I_.” to
_Aye_.
“since unto her will I do _winde_? _Winde_.” to _wind_ and _Wind_.
“_Wo_, but seems to me joy, that agrees” to _Woe_.
“_Ods_? what an _ods_ is there since” to _Odds_ and _odds_.
“My muse what _ailes_ this ardor” to _ails_.
“So great passion all feel,” add _a_ after _great_.
“Alas she _faith_ I am thine” to _saith_.
“Thus sweet pain, I do yield _what ere_ I can yield,” to _whate’er_.
[Book III]
“Dread not _awhit_ (O goodly cruel) that pity may” to _a whit_.
“but they set so among certain _tuffs_ of cypress” to _tufts_.
“Therefore would he not _emply_ the still man” to _employ_.
“and will confirm his _gilt_, and your receipt of both” to _gift_.
“Then can one string make as good music as a _concert_” to _consort_.
“I have now such a liberty as the _sealed_ dove hath” to _seeled_.
“the more it did _exprobate_, as she thought” to _exprobrate_.
“marriage; the worthiness of the _suiter_” to _suitor_.
“a certain _prophesy_ had been told him that” to _prophecy_.
“For near _acquaintaince_ doth diminish reverent fear” to
_acquaintance_.
“was rather increased than _any wise_ satisfied” to _anywise_.
“any entertainment of so unwelcome a guest the made Cecropia” delete
_the_ and add comma after _guest_.
“Dear niece, or rather dear _daugher_, if my affection” to _daughter_.
“great clerks into the world to serve as _shields_ to keep them from
those faults” to _shewels_ (“scarecrows”).
“by the staff of _vulger_ opinions, I would not” to _vulgar_.
“tail covered the crupper of of the horse” delete one _of_.
“so that he battered the _lams_ thereof” to _lames_.
“His _petrel_ and reins were embroidered with” to _poitrel_.
“Amphialus had _over sticken_ himself so” to _over-stricken_.
“letting him have reins, _petrel_, with the rest” to _poitrel_.
“was indeed like the painter, that _faith_ in his picture” to _saith_.
“thy wretched heart think it was _timerousness_ that made” to
_timorousness_.
“Place, see my grave _up torn_” to _uptorn_.
“repine with never so much grieving-Mother,” replace hyphen with
period and space.
“This _sight_ being the more cruel, since both love” to _fight_.
“took a body to show his (_self unconceivable_) beauty” to
_else-unconceivable_.
“and looking a sideward upon the ground” delete _a_.
“that were _accessary_ to this cruelty” to _accessory_.
“for no eye could have _abiden_ to see such beauty” to _abidden_.
“_prefering_ dutiful affection before fearful duty” to _preferring_.
“that thou art _he_ beggarliest dastardly villain” to _the_.
“means to temper the minds of their proud _woers_” to _wooers_.
“self-love then first in him divided itself from _vain glory_” to
_vainglory_.
“No _villian_, die: it is Philoclea that” to _villain_.
“a strong _cask_ bravely covered, wherewith he covered his head” to
_casque_.
“encroached to usurp a room in her right _ride_” to _side_.
“the rest were quickly _discomfitted_, and, despairing” _discomfited_.
(“can Musidorus have anything wherein I have no interest?” “_I_,” said
he, “and for the present a greater wonder...) to _Aye_.
“and we only can restore them to _themselvee_” to _themselves_.
(“_I_,” quoth he, “and when my man Dorus durst...) to _Aye_.
“my sun, whose beams are _shinlng_ bright” to _shining_.
“which dost lightsomely, _methink_, make me see the...” to _methinks_.
“Betwixt which two in me I have this _sight_” to _fight_.
“_scattering_ lying a great number of rich medals” to _scatteringly_.
“and with a look full of _sworn_ spite” to _forworn_.
“never after to feed on worse than _furmetry_” to _frumenty_.
“Giv’n to my heart, by my forewounded _eye_:” to _eyne_.
“_Ho’d_ me most yours, then my long suit is sign’d.” to _Hold_.
“Nay higher thoughts (though thralled thoughts)” add _I call_ to the
end of the line.
“You none can claim but you yourself _a right_,” to _aright_.
“with the _shame faced_ look of that suitor” to _shamefaced_.
“rising up with a kindly _bashfulnes_” to _bashfulness_.
“I can never _acccount_ a wrong” to _account_.
“(Better despis’d) _be wonder_ gazing eye.” to _bewonder_.
“As _princes lose_ or change:” to _prince’s loss_.
“Two _gleaning_ suns of splendour like I see,” to _gleaming_.
“For _mishiefs_ great, day after day doth show,” to _mischiefs_.
“commanded them to carry _forwith_ Zelmane’s bed” to _forthwith_.
“Where simple love, which _chastness_ doth impart,” to _chasteness_.
“So that you may on higher _flippers_ stay,” to _slippers_.
“Burnt Caban, lost my _cloke_,” to _cloak_.
“Lanquet, the _shepherds_ best swift Ister knew,” to _shepherd_.
“His good strong staff my _flipp’ry_ years upbore:” to _slipp’ry_.
“Ant, industry; and _conney_, skill to build;” to _coney_.
“And aye more awe towards him for to _plaint_,” to _plant_.
“As tigers, leopards, bears, and _lion’s feed_” to _lions’ seed_.
“When falcon they, and _gross hawk_ saw in mew” to _goss-hawk_.
“Austere she is, when he would honest _p’ays_;” to _plays_.
“Lord, what _bye-words_ they speak, what spite” to _bywords_.
“That never _past soul_ word, I dare well say:” to _passed foul_.
[Book IV]
“_left_ all consideration how to recover her” to _leave_.
“daughter’s little wits had quite left her great _noul_” to _noll_.
“mumping out her hoarse _chase_” to _chafe_.
“creatures, as _Phyche_ did upon her unknown lover” to _Psyche_.
“included all the world within his _sheep coat_” to _sheep-cote_.
“to _taste_ into herself new devised counsel” to _take_.
“Of _humane_ life to be the quiet measure” to _human_.
“that which may _by_ safest for yourself” to _be_.
“O mother of mine what a dreadful _fuck_ have you given” to _suck_.
“perfectest workmanship, their _chieftest_ honour” to _chiefest_.
“For if it were not a respecting the harm,” delete _a_.
“and to _became_ all as well hangmen as judges” to _become_.
“which as soon as she _apppeared_ to play her part” to _appeared_.
“hold but of Pamela, _thinkihg_ it want of a” to _thinking_.
“her grace knew the ancient laws of Arcadia _were_” to _bare_.
“which likewise _acording_ to the statutes of Arcadia” to _according_.
“as windows, stones, and _pinacles_ were well” to _pinnacles_.
“was an extreme _medly_ of diversified thoughts” to _medley_.
“the soldiers _desirious_ of trouble, as the nurse of” to _desirous_.
“and laying order for the _goverment_ by” to _government_.
“especially in a _pince_ under whom they had found a refuge” to
_prince_.
“And inward grief _fail_ up with outward wailing” to _seal_.
“Within itself, and never _tasted_ end:” to _tasteth_.
[Book V]
“kept close, _withou_ conference with any man” to _without_.
“be shadowed out by the _skillfullest_ pencil than by” to
_skilfullest_.
“that it doth _appal_ their minds” to _appall_.
“or the _licourishness_ of dominion make you beyond justice” to
_lickerishness_.
“the modern minds, who made _suiters_ magistrates” to _suitors_.
“Philanax and the other _moblemen_ should deal” to _noblemen_.
“Had she I say no practice to lead her unto it?” add commas after
_she_ and _say_.
“the name of this mankind _courtisan_ shall ever be remembered” to
_courtesan_.
“in this matter, _e’er_ the eyes of the world upon you” to _are_.
“excellent Philoclea her _hononr_, by taking” to _honour_.
“hard-heartedly bent to _apppoint_ otherwise” to _appoint_.
“these two are both abominable and _inexcuseable_” to _inexcusable_.
“which had _Lynce’s_ eyes in another’s” to _lynx’s_.
[Book VI]
“much pitying the before-unheard of death of so excellent a queen”
delete first _of_.
“what estate the castle was against the _beseigers_” to _besiegers_.
“the _fates_ reserved so great a blessing in store” to _Fates_.
“begging what goodness _solicites_ you to grant” to _solicits_.
“and the ill-bought quiet of an _ignominous_ peace” to _ignominious_.
“This kingdom of _Argus_, wherein you are,” to _Argos_.
“the _fates_ must be indulgent to your youth and beauty” to _Fates_.
“with a _down-cast_ look, which sorrow excused” to _downcast_.
“Sweet link of hearts, joy’s surest _anchor hold_,” to _anchor-hold_.
“Man still complains upon his state to _lowre_,” to _lower_.
[End of text]