I bring the Astrea forward to point out the ingenious manner by which a
fine imagination can veil the common incidents of life, and turn
whatever it touches into gold.
Honoré D'Urfé was the descendant of an illustrious family. His brother
Anne married Diana of Chateaumorand, the wealthy heiress of another
great house. After a marriage of no less duration than twenty-two years,
this union was broken by the desire of Anne himself, for a cause which
the delicacy of Diana had never revealed. Anne then became an
ecclesiastic. Some time afterwards, Honoré, desirous of retaining the
great wealth of Diana in the family, addressed this lady, and married
her. This union, however, did not prove fortunate. Diana, like the
goddess of that name, was a huntress, continually surrounded by her
dogs:--they dined with her at table, and slept with her in bed. This
insupportable nuisance could not be patiently endured by the elegant
Honoré. He was also disgusted with the barrenness of the huntress Diana,
who was only delivered every year of abortions. He separated from her,
and retired to Piedmont, where he passed his remaining days in peace,
without feeling the thorns of marriage and ambition rankling in his
heart. In this retreat he composed his Astrea; a pastoral romance, which
was the admiration of Europe during half a century. It forms a striking
picture of human life, for the incidents are facts beautifully
concealed. They relate the amours and gallantries of the court of Henry
the Fourth. The personages in the Astrea display a rich invention; and
the work might be still read, were it not for those wire-drawn
conversations, or rather disputations, which were then introduced into
romances. In a modern edition, the Abbé Souchai has _curtailed_ these
tiresome dialogues; the work still consists of ten duodecimos.
In this romance, Celidée, to cure the unfortunate Celadon, and to
deprive Thamire at the same time of every reason for jealousy, tears her
face with a pointed diamond, and disfigures it in so cruel a manner,
that she excites horror in the breast of Thamire; but he so ardently
admires this exertion of virtue, that he loves her, hideous as she is
represented, still more than when she was most beautiful. Heaven, to be
just to these two lovers, restores the beauty of Celidée; which is
effected by a sympathetic powder. This romantic incident is thus
explained:--One of the French princes (Thamire), when he returned from
Italy, treated with coldness his amiable princess (Celidée); this was
the effect of his violent passion, which had become jealousy. The
coolness subsisted till the prince was imprisoned, for state affairs, in
the wood of Vincennes. The princess, with the permission of the court,
followed him into his confinement. This proof of her love soon brought
back the wandering heart and affections of the prince. The small-pox
seized her; which is the pointed diamond, and the dreadful disfigurement
of her face. She was so fortunate as to escape being marked by this
disease; which is meant by the sympathetic powder. This trivial incident
is happily turned into the marvellous: that a wife should choose to be
imprisoned with her husband is not singular; to escape being marked by
the small-pox happens every day; but to romance, as he has done, on such
common circumstances, is beautiful and ingenious.
D'Urfé, when a boy, is said to have been enamoured of Diana; this indeed
has been questioned. D'Urfé, however, was sent to the island of Malta to
enter into that order of knighthood; and in his absence Diana was
married to Anne. What an affliction for Honoré on his return to see her
married, and to his brother! His affection did not diminish, but he
concealed it in respectful silence. He had some knowledge of his
brother's unhappiness, and on this probably founded his hopes. After
several years, during which the modest Diana had uttered no complaint,
Anne declared himself; and shortly afterwards Honoré, as we have
noticed, married Diana.
Our author has described the parties under this false appearance of
marriage. He assumes the names of Celadon and Sylvander, and gives Diana
those of Astrea and Diana. He is Sylvander and she Astrea while she is
married to Anne; and he Celadon and she Diana when the marriage is
dissolved. Sylvander is represented always as a lover who sighs
secretly; nor does Diana declare her passion till overcome by the long
sufferings of her faithful shepherd. For this reason Astrea and Diana,
as well as Sylvander and Celadon, go together, prompted by the same
despair, to the FOUNTAIN of the TRUTH OF LOVE.
Sylvander is called an unknown shepherd, who has no other wealth than
his flock; because our author was the youngest of his family, or rather
a knight of Malta who possessed nothing but honour.
Celadon in despair throws himself into a river; this refers to his
voyage to Malta. Under the name of Alexis he displays the friendship of
Astrea for him, and all those innocent freedoms which passed between
them as relatives; from this circumstance he has contrived a difficulty
inimitably delicate.
Something of passion is to be discovered in these expressions of
friendship. When Alexis assumes the name of Celadon, he calls that love
which Astrea had mistaken for fraternal affection. This was the trying
moment. For though she loved him, she is rigorous in her duty and
honour. She says, "what will they think of me if I unite myself to him,
after permitting, for so many years, those familiarities which a brother
may have taken with a sister, with me, who knew that in fact I remained
unmarried?"
How she got over this nice scruple does not appear; it was, however, for
a long time a great obstacle to the felicity of our author. There is an
incident which shows the purity of this married virgin, who was fearful
the liberties she allowed Celadon might be ill construed. Phillis tells
the druid Adamas that Astrea was seen sleeping by the fountain of the
Truth of Love, and that the unicorns which guarded those waters were
observed to approach her, and lay their heads on her lap. According to
fable, it is one of the properties of these animals never to approach
any female but a maiden: at this strange difficulty our druid remains
surprised; while Astrea has thus given an incontrovertible proof of her
purity.
The history of Philander is that of the elder D'Urfé. None but boys
disguised as girls, and girls as boys, appear in the history. In this
manner he concealed, without offending modesty, the defect of his
brother. To mark the truth of this history, when Philander is disguised
as a woman, while he converses with Astrea of his love, he frequently
alludes to his misfortune, although in another sense.
Philander, ready to expire, will die with the glorious name of the
husband of Astrea. He entreats her to grant him this favour; she accords
it to him, and swears before the gods that she receives him in her heart
for her husband. The truth is, he enjoyed nothing but the name.
Philander dies too, in combating with a hideous Moor, which is the
personification of his conscience, and which at length compelled him to
quit so beautiful an object, and one so worthy of being eternally
beloved.
The gratitude of Sylvander, on the point of being sacrificed, represents
the consent of Honoré's parents to dissolve his vow of celibacy, and
unite him to Diana; and the druid Adamas represents ecclesiastical
power. The FOUNTAIN of the TRUTH OF LOVE is that of marriage; the
unicorns are the symbols of that purity which should ever guard it; and
the flaming eyes of the lions, which are also there, represent those
inconveniences attending marriage, but over which a faithful passion
easily triumphs.
In this manner has our author disguised his own private history; and
blended in his works a number of little amours which passed at the court
of Henry the Great. These particulars were confided to Patru, on
visiting the author in his retirement.