Arcadia. Sir Philip Sidney
blow.
She, quick and proud, and who did Pas despise,
up with her fist, and took him on the face.
Another time, quoth she, become more wise.
Thus Pas did kiss her hand with little grace,
and each way luckless, yet in humble guise,
did hold her fast for fear of more disgrace,
while Strephon might with pretty Nous have met,
but all this while another course he set.102
For as Urania after Cosma ran,
he, ravishèd with sight how gracefully
she moved her limbs and drew the agèd man,
left Nous, to coast the lovèd beauty nigh.
Nous cried and chased, but he no other can
till Uran, seeing Pas to Cosma fly,
and Strephon single, turnèd after him.
Strephon, so chased, did seem in milk to swim.
He ran, but ran with eye o’er shoulder cast,
more marking her than how himself did go,
like Numid lions by the hunters chased—
though they do fly, yet backwardly they glow103
with proud aspect, disdaining greatest haste:
What rage in them, that love in him did show.
But God gives them instinct the man to shun,
and he by law of Barley-Break must run.
But as his heat with running did augment,
much more his sight increased his hot desire.
So is in her the best of nature spent;
the air her sweet race moved doth blow the fire.
Her feet be pursuivants104 from Cupid sent
with whose fine steps all loves and joys conspire.
The hidden beauties seemed in wait to lie
to down proud hearts that would not willing die.
Thus fast he fled from her he followed sore,
still shunning Nous to lengthen pleasing race,
till that he spied old Geron could no more.
Then did he slack his love-instructed pace
so that Urán, whose arm old Geron bore,
laid hold on him with most lay-holding grace.
So caught, him seemed he caught of joys the bell
and thought it heaven so to be drawn to hell.
Third Round
Pas & Cosma Strephon & Nous Geron & Urania
To hell he goes, and Nous with him must dwell.
Nous swore it was not right—for his default
who would be caught—that she should go to hell.
But so she must. And now the third assault
of Barley-Break among the six befell.
Pas Cosma matched, yet angry with his fault.
The other end Geron with Uran guard.
I think you think Strephon bent thitherward.
Nous counseled Strephon Geron to pursue,
for he was old and easy would be caught.
But he drew her as love his fancy drew,
and so to take the gem Urania sought,
while Geron old came safe to Cosma true,
though him to meet at all she stirrèd nought.
For Pas, whether it were for fear or love,
moved not himself, nor suffered her to move.
So they three did together idly stay,
while dear Urán, whose course was Pas to meet,
(he staying thus) was fain abroad to stray
with larger round, to shun the following feet.
Strephon, whose eyes on her back-parts did play,
with love drawn on, so fast with pace unmeet
drew dainty Nous, that she, not able so
to run, broke from his hands, and let him go.105
He single thus, hoped soon with her to be,
who nothing earthly, but of fire and air,
though with soft legs, did run as fast as he.
He thrice reached, thrice deceived, when her to bear
he hopes, with dainty turns she does him flee.
So on the downs we see, near Wilton fair,
a hastened hare from greedy greyhound go,
and past all hope his chaps to frustrate so.
But this strange race more strange conceits did yield:
Who victor seemed was to his ruin brought.106
Who seemed o’er thrown was mistress of the field.
She fled, and took. He followed, and was caught.
So have I heard, to pierce pursuing shield,
by parents trained, the Tartars wild are taught
with shafts shot out from their back-turnèd bow.
But, ah! her darts107 did far more deeply go.
As Venus’ bird, the white, swift, lovely dove
(ô happy doves that are compared to her!)
does on her wings her utmost swiftness prove,
finding the grip of falcon fierce not far,
so did Urán, the nearer108 the swifter move
(yet beauty still as fast as she did stir)
till with long race, dear she was breathless brought,
and then the Phoenix fearèd to be caught.
Among the rest that there did take delight
to see the sports of double-shining day,
and did the tribute of their wondering sight
to nature’s heir, the fair Urania, pay,
I told you Claius was the hapless wight
who earnest found what they accounted play.
He did not there do homage of his eyes,
but on his eyes his heart did sacrifice.
With gazing looks, short sights, unsettled feet,
he stood, but turned, as girasol109 to sun.
His fancies still did her in half-way meet.
His soul did fly as she was seen to run.
In sum, proud Boreas110 never rulèd fleet
(who Neptune’s web on danger’s distaff spun)
with greater power than she did make them wend
each way, as she (that ages praise) did bend—
till, spying well she well nigh weary was,
and surely taught by his