The English Renaissance can be hard to date precisely, but for most scholars, it begins with

the rise of the Tudor Dynasty (1485–1603) and reaches its cultural summit during the 45-year
reign of the final Tudor monarch, the charismatic Elizabeth I (1558–1603). The period
extends into the reigns of the Stuarts, King James I (1603–25) and perhaps that of Charles I
(1625–49). The era seethed with incessant political tensions and—never separable from
politics—religious rifts between Catholics and Protestants, especially the so-called Puritan
sects that fought to reform the Church of England by removing any Catholic or “popish”
practices. The Renaissance firmly ends once those tensions boil over into a distinctly
different period of revolutionary change and a succession of nation-shaking events: the series
of civil wars between Parliamentarians and Royalists, the execution of Charles I, the
interregnum of republican-led governments, and the restoration of the monarchy in 1660. A
period lasting only a century or two but encompassing momentous change, the English
Renaissance drastically shaped what being English meant, at home and abroad. As literacy
increased and printing accelerated, the English language rose to a place of international
prestige, and a distinctly English literature began to be braided from diverse cultural strands:
Middle English poetry and medieval mystery plays; ballads, hymns, and popular songs;
translations from classical literatures and contemporary literature from the Continent. As a
nation and a fledgling empire, England emerged as an indomitable economic and military
force, sending explorers, merchants, and colonists as far as Africa, Asia, and the so-called
New World. At the epicenter of England’s explosive rise was the rapidly growing city of
London, soon to become the largest city in Europe (and eventually the world). With its
surging population, flourishing markets and ports, and thriving public theaters, London
offered all the excitements of a modern metropolis—as well as all the dangers. The threat of
bubonic plague loomed constantly over all of Europe, posing immense risks to a city as
densely congested as London, where, every few years, a rampant outbreak forced theaters to
close down for months at a time. The term Renaissance, deriving from the French for
“rebirth,” is a name retroactively bestowed by 19th-century thinkers, who distinguished the
era by its revivals: a renewed interest in ancient languages, the recovery of antique
manuscripts, and the return to the classical ideals underlying the era’s defining intellectual
movement, Renaissance humanism. Greek and Roman models, renovated for modern
purposes, were especially crucial for poets defining or defending their art. In the era’s
pinnacle of literary criticism, The Defence of Poesy (1595), Philip Sidney borrowed his chief
terms and questions from Greek philosophers born nearly two millennia earlier. “Poesy,” he
proposes, “is an art of imitation, for so Aristotle termeth it in the word mimesis—that is to
say, a representing, counterfeiting, or figuring forth—to speak metaphorically, a speaking
picture—with this end, to teach and delight.” Against the charge, leveled in
Plato’s Republic (c. 375 BCE), that all this poetic “counterfeiting” amounted to lying, Sidney
mounted an entirely novel defense that flaunted a modern embrace of artifice and head-
spinning fantasy. Poets couldn’t lie, because their allegorical and figurative inventions never
pretended to be real or true—or so Sidney contended in an ingenious argumentative
maneuver: “the poet, he nothing affirms, and therefore never lieth.” Today we remember
Sidney as an indisputably great poet and scholar of his time. To his contemporaries, however,
he was far from a writer first: he was a nobleman, a courtier, a patron, a horseman, a paragon
of knightly valor who died from battle injuries at age 31. All Renaissance poets were
amateurs relative to the modern understanding of professional, career writers. Until late in the
period, there was no system of royalties to reward publishing poetry, no author-owned
copyright or freedom of the press to protect it, and only a small (if growing) literate audience
to read it. (The first poet to collect his own work for publication was Ben Jonson, in 1616; the
first to earn royalties was John Milton, who negotiated for earnings from the first edition
of Paradise Lost in 1667.) With little way to live solely on their publications, poets who
needed work made their livings as playwrights, translators, essayists, scholars, secretaries,
ambassadors, soldiers, politicians, physicians, composers, and clergymen—all occupations
that took valuable time away from writing poetry. Poets of all classes found support and
shelter—or simply an audience—in a handful of institutions. For Thomas Wyatt, Henry
Howard, Sidney, and Walter Raleigh, the center of poetry was the royal court. There,
noblemen and noblewomen, public servants, and charming socialites alike practiced poetry as
an exquisite pastime, an imaginative competition that transformed the social arts of
persuasion, diplomacy, and self-making into displays of rhetorical dexterity and verbal play.
Writers of lower status, gravitating to the court hoping to acquire the financial support of a
patron, offered prestige, dedications, and commissioned works in exchange for favors,
employment, or steady salaries. Another institution was the church: several of the era’s best
poets—such as John Donne and George Herbert—were clergymen, and many others found
their calling writing devotional poetry and adapting scripture, psalms, and prayers into
vernacular English. Still other poets found a home in London's first permanent public
theaters, built in the late 16th century. Christopher Marlowe, William Shakespeare, and Ben
Jonson conducted their audacious artistic experiments on stage in public entertainments of an
unprecedentedly wide appeal. All these institutions posed immense barriers to women, even
the most supremely educated and advantaged. Many of the period’s best-remembered women
poets—Æemilia Lanyer, Mary Wroth, and Margaret Cavendish—came to prominence only in
the 17th century. The poetry springing from these competing centers was prismatically
diverse. Just like our contemporary moment, it was volatilely susceptible to fashions and
trends: first sonnet sequences and epyllions (or short epics) were all the rage, then odes and
satires, then dramatic monologues and country-house poems. In his Defence, Sidney lists
major poetic “kinds” that readers then and now can still recognize: pastoral, elegiac, satiric,
comic, tragic, lyric, heroic. But there is no one Renaissance style. If some poets dazzle
readers with fluent sonic patterns, delightful ornaments, or one startling metaphor after the
next, others adopt a plain style, achieving their judicious effects by withholding any
rhetorical pyrotechnics—or by deftly hiding their rhetoric under unassuming surfaces. The
shapes and sizes of a Renaissance poem ran the gamut from Ben Jonson’s prickly, no-word-
wasted epigrams (“On Gut”: “Gut eats all day and lechers all the night; / So all his meat he
tasteth over twice”) to Edmund Spenser’s gargantuan epic The Faerie Queene (1590, 1596);
by his death, Spenser had completed six of a proposed 24 books and had still already
produced one of the longest poems in the language. Far from a period of formal limitation or
strictly codified rules, the Renaissance prized irreverent variation and brash gamesmanship.
Even blank verse, or unrhymed iambic pentameter, which is quite possibly the most
frequently appearing form in all of English poetry, was the result of a one-off experiment, a
translation of Virgil’s Aeneid (c. 1540) by the young Earl of Surrey. A mainstay of English
poetry and verse drama ever since, blank verse was, at the time of its invention, a quietly
revolutionary easing of restrictions. Removing the necessities of rhyme or strict stanza length,
blank verse allowed poets and playwrights to narrate, meditate, and soliloquize at any length
through capacious five-stress lines that (it was believed) approximated the duration of a
single breath. Perhaps the most recognizable form in Renaissance poetry was the sonnet, an
intricately rhymed, 14-line poem derived from the Italian sonetto (“little song”) and perfected
by the 14th-century poet Petrarch. The first English sonnets were Petrarchan translations and
imitations by Wyatt and Surrey, who inaugurated an English tradition of love poems
featuring idealized but frustratingly distant beloveds and speakers working through their
dizzyingly mixed feelings in impassioned, hyperbolic, and often oxymoronic language: “I
fear and hope. I burn and freeze like ice,” writes Wyatt in his translation of Petrarch’s Rima
134. “I love another, and thus I hate myself.” Love may be the central subject of sonnets and
Renaissance poetry generally, but it comes in a color wheel of varieties: transient and
transcendental, holy and forbidden, lustful and flirtatious and platonic, heterosexual and what
we today call queer. Later poets stretched the sonnet’s traditionally taut bounds to encompass
less traditional feelings: devotional piety in John Donne’s Holy Sonnets, female desire
in Wroth’s Pamphilia to Amphilanthus, political furor in John Milton’s “On the Late
Massacre at Piedmont.” When does Renaissance poetry end? It’s difficult to say precisely, in
part because the lives of poets and their stellar achievements don’t neatly conform to the era’s
political and social milestones. By Elizabeth’s death, many of the greatest Elizabethan
poets were writing at or near their peak, and the century’s best-known schools of poets were
already coalescing. Donne, George Herbert, Henry Vaughan, Andrew Marvell, and others
became known as the Metaphysical poets, after the unfavorable nickname given by the 18th-
century poet-critic Samuel Johnson. What Johnson disliked about the Metaphysical poets was
precisely what modernists such as T.S. Eliot so admired: a blend of braininess and heart,
willfully unmusical speech rhythms, and the outlandish, extravagantly developed metaphors
that Johnson called conceits, in which “The most heterogeneous ideas are yoked by violence
together.” (Consider Donne’s comparison, in “A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning,” of two
lovers’ souls to the “stiff twin” legs of a geometer’s compass, one moving, the other fixed,
the two inextricably connected.) A later, contrasting school was the Cavalier poets,
including Robert Herrick, Thomas Carew, and Richard Lovelace. All were Royalists, loyal to
the king during the civil wars, and most were courtiers or otherwise linked to England’s
ruling classes. Harmonizing classical moderation and cosmopolitan wit in measured verses,
the Cavalier poets traced their gallant art to the urbane poet-playwright Ben Jonson; some
even labeled themselves “Sons of Ben.” As the English Renaissance closes, its many threads
—religious and secular, classical and topical—entwine in the virtuosic early poems of John
Milton, whose synthesizing mind produced Paradise Lost (1667, 1674), the
Christian epic towering over English-language poetry for centuries to follow. The following
poets, poem guides, articles, and recordings traverse almost two centuries of poetry, from
Wyatt to Milton, and the Renaissance era that readers and poets have long prized as a golden
age of poetic achievement in English. This introduction offers one sketch of that period’s
ceaseless innovations and tremendous expansions.

In 1503, Sir Thomas Wyatt was born at Allington Castle in Kent, England. His father
served as a wealthy privy councilor to both Henry the VII and Henry VIII. Wyatt attended St.
John's College, Cambridge, and married Elizabeth Brooke in 1520. Although she bore him
two children, they separated shortly after marriage and did not reconcile until 1541. Wyatt,
like his father before him, worked in the court of Henry VIII. Handsome and admired for his
skill in music, jousting, and languages, he served first as esquire of the king's body and clerk
of the king's jewels in 1524. Though these positions were minor, they helped to establish
Wyatt in the king's favor. By 1527, he began a diplomatic career with missions to France and
Rome, where he grew acquainted with the French and Italian prosody that would later have
profound influence on his literary life. It was also at this time that Wyatt became acquainted
with Anne Boleyn, the king's mistress and soon-to-be wife. Scholars have pointed to
suggestions in his poems (particularly "Whoso List to Hunt") and other anecdotal evidence to
posit that he was Boleyn's lover. It is difficult, however, to firmly establish their relationship.
In 1536, Wyatt was arrested shortly after five men alleged to have been Boleyn's lovers were
imprisoned. Boleyn herself was imprisoned and executed for adultery. Wyatt spent only one
month in the Tower and shortly thereafter regained Henry's favor. He would serve Henry VIII
in various offices in England and abroad for the remainder of his life, and by all accounts was
an accomplished diplomat. Although Wyatt's poems circulated among many of the members
of Henry's court, they did not appear in print until after his death. In 1557, ninety-six of his
songs appeared in Songs and Sonnetts (Tottel's Miscellany). The remainder of Wyatt's poems,
satires, and lyrics would remain in manuscript and slowly come into print during the
nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Along with the Earl of Surrey, Wyatt is commonly
credited with introducing the sonnet into English. His love lyrics, many based loosely on the
Petrarchan sonnet, deal with courtly love and ill treatment at the hands of his lovers. Among
his most famous poems are "Whoso List to Hunt," "They Flee From Me," "What No, Perdie,"
"Lux, My Fair Falcon," and "Blame Not My Lute." Wyatt also wrote three satires, which
adopted the Italian terza rima into English, and a number of penitential psalms. He died of a
fever on October 11, 1542.

Poems by Thomas Wyatt

1)Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind,

But as for me, hélas, I may no more.
The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,
I am of them that farthest cometh behind.
Yet may I by no means my wearied mind
Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore
Fainting I follow. I leave off therefore,
Sithens in a net I seek to hold the wind.
Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,
As well as I may spend his time in vain.
And graven with diamonds in letters plain
There is written, her fair neck round about:
Noli me tangere, for Caesar's I am,
And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

2)My galley charged with forgetfulness

Thorough sharp seas in winter nights doth pass
Tween rock and rock; and eke mine enemy, alas,
That is my lord, steereth with cruelness;
And every oar a thought in readiness,
As though that death were light in such a case.
An endless wind doth tear the sail apace
Of forced sighs, and trusty fearfulness
A rain of tears, a cloud of dark disdain,
Hath done the wearied cords great hinderance;
Wreathed with error and eke with ignorance,
The stars be hid that led me to this pain;
Drowned is reason that should me consort,
And I remain despairing of the port.

3)They flee from me, that sometime did me seek,

With naked foot stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them, gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild, and do not remember
That sometime they put themselves in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.
 Thanked be Fortune it hath been otherwise,
Twenty times better; but once in special,
In thin array, after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small,
And therewith all sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, "Dear heart, how like you this?"

It was no dream, I lay broad waking.

But all is turned, thorough my gentleness,
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go, of her goodness,
And she also to use newfangleness.
But since that I so kindely am served,
I fain should know what she hath deserved.

Henry Howard, the Earl of Surrey

Tudor poet Henry Howard, the Earl of Surrey, was born in Hunsdon, Hertfordshire, England.
He was the son of the third Duke of Norfolk. Associated with the royal court, he grew up at
Windsor, where he was a childhood companion to the Duke of Richmond, son of Henry VIII.
Surrey was also a first cousin to Anne Boleyn. Educated by tutors, he lived an eventful life as
a soldier and a courtier, eventually marrying Lady Frances de Vere, daughter of the Earl of
Oxford.
In 1532, he traveled to France with Henry VIII and stayed at the French court for almost a
year. He was made Knight of the Garter in 1541 and served as a soldier in France. After Anne
Boleyn’s execution, Surrey and his father ran afoul of the new English court on several
occasions. Eventually charged with treason, he was imprisoned in the Tower of London and
executed in 1547. Surrey’s poetry is often associated with that of Thomas Wyatt, whose work
was published alongside Surrey’s in Tottel’s Miscellany (1557). A major poet of the 16th
century, Surrey is credited with developing the Shakespearean form of the sonnet. He wrote
love poems and elegies and translated Books 2 and 4 of Virgil’s Aeneid as well as Psalms and
Ecclesiastes from the Bible. He also introduced blank verse to English—a form that he used
in his translations of Virgil.

Poems by Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

Alas, so all things now do hold their peace!

Heaven and earth disturbèd in no thing;
The beasts, the air, the birds their song do cease,
The nightès car the stars about doth bring;
Calm is the sea; the waves work less and less:
So am not I, whom love, alas! doth wring,
Bringing before my face the great increase
Of my desires, whereat I weep and sing,
In joy and woe, as in a doubtful case.
For my sweet thoughts sometime do pleasure bring:
But by and by, the cause of my disease
Gives me a pang that inwardly doth sting,
When that I think what grief it is again
To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.

O happy dames, that may embrace

The fruit of your delight,
Help to bewail the woeful case
And eke the heavy plight
Of me, that wonted to rejoice
The fortune of my pleasant choice;
Good ladies, help to fill my mourning voice.

In ship, freight with remembrance

Of thoughts and pleasures past,
He sails that hath in governance
My life while it will last;
With scalding sighs, for lack of gale,
Furthering his hope, that is his sail,
Toward me, the sweet port of his avail.

Alas! how oft in dreams I see

Those eyes that were my food;
Which sometime so delighted me,
That yet they do me good;
Wherewith I wake with his return,
Whose absent flame did make me burn:
But when I find the lack, Lord, how I mourn!

When other lovers in arms across

Rejoice their chief delight.
Drowned in tears, to mourn my loss
I stand the bitter night
In my window, where I may see
Before the winds how the clouds flee.
Lo! what a mariner love hath made of me!

And in green waves when the salt flood

Doth rise by rage of wind,
A thousand fancies in that mood
Assail my restless mind.
Alas! now drencheth my sweet foe,
That with the spoil of my heart did go,
And left me; but, alas! why did he so?

And when the seas wax calm again

To chase fro me annoy,
My doubtful hope doth cause me pain;
So dread cuts off my joy.
Thus is my wealth mingled with woe,
And of each thought a doubt doth grow;
“Now he comes! Will he come? Alas, no, no!”
Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;
Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he by envy could obtain.

A head where wisdom mysteries did frame,

Whose hammers beat still in that lively brain
As on a stithy where that some work of fame
Was daily wrought, to turn to Britain's gain.

A visage stern and mild, where both did grow,

Vice to contemn, in virtue to rejoice;
Amid great storms, whom grace assured so
To live upright and smile at fortune's choice.

A hand that taught what might be said in rhyme;

That reft Chaucer the glory of his wit:
A mark, the which (unparfited, for time)
Some may approach, but never none shall hit.

A tongue that served in foreign realms his king;

Whose courteous talk to virtue did enflame
Each noble heart; a worthy guide to bring
Our English youth by travail unto fame.

An eye whose judgment none affect could blind,

Friends to allure, and foes to reconcile;
Whose piercing look did represent a mind
With virtue fraught, reposed, void of guile.

A heart where dread was never so impress'd,

To hide the thought that might the truth advance;
In neither fortune loft, nor yet repress'd,
To swell in wealth, or yield unto mischance.

A valiant corps, where force and beauty met;

Happy, alas, too happy, but for foes!
Lived, and ran the race, that Nature set:
Of manhood's shape, where she the mould did lose.

But to the heavens that simple soul is fled,

Which left with such as covet Christ to know
Witness of faith that never shall be dead,
Sent for our health, but not received so.
Thus, for our guilt, this jewel have we lost;
The earth his bones, the heavens possess his ghost.

My friend, the things that do attain

The happy life be these, I find:
The riches left, not got with pain,
The fruitful ground; the quiet mind;

The equal friend; no grudge, no strife;

No charge of rule nor governance;
Without disease the healthy life;
The household of continuance;

The mean diet, no dainty fare;

True wisdom joined with simpleness;
The night discharged of all care,
Where wine the wit may not oppress;

The faithful wife, without debate;

Such sleeps as may beguile the night:
Content thyself with thine estate,
Neither wish death, nor fear his might.

Wyatt resteth here, that quick could never rest;

Whose heavenly gifts increased by disdain,
And virtue sank the deeper in his breast;
Such profit he of envy could obtain.

A head, where wisdom mysteries did frame,

Whose hammers beat still in that lively brain
As on a stith, where some work of fame
Was daily wrought, to turn to Britain’s gain.

A visage, stern and mild; where both did grow,

Vice to condemn, in virtues to rejoice;
Amid great storms whom grace assured so,
To live upright and smile at fortune’s choice.

A hand that taught what might be said in rhyme;

That reft Chaucer the glory of his wit;
A mark the which (unperfited, for time)
Some may approach, but never none shall hit.

A tongue that served in foreign realms his king;

Whose courteous talk to virtue did enflame
Each noble heart; a worthy guide to bring
Our English youth, by travail unto fame.

An eye whose judgment no affect could blind,

Friends to allure, and foes to reconcile;
Whose piercing look did represent a mind
With virtue fraught, reposed, void of guile.

A heart where dread yet never so impressed

To hide the thought that might the truth avaunce;
In neither fortune lift, nor so repressed,
To swell in wealth, nor yield unto mischance.

A valiant corps, where force and beauty met,

Happy, alas! too happy, but for foes,
Lived, and ran the race that nature set;
Of manhood’s shape, where she the mold did lose.

But to the heavens that simple soul is fled,

Which left with such, as covet Christ to know
Witness of faith that never shall be dead:
Sent for our health, but not received so.

Thus, for our guilt, this jewel have we lost;

The earth his bones, the heavens possess his ghost.
Amen.

Philip Sidney (1554)

Sir Philip Sidney (born November 30, 1554, Penshurst, Kent, England—died October 17,
1586, Arnhem, Netherlands) Elizabethan courtier, statesman, soldier, poet, and patron of
scholars and poets, considered the ideal gentleman of his day. After Shakespeare’s sonnets,
Sidney’s Astrophel and Stella is considered the finest Elizabethan sonnet cycle. His The
Defence of Poesie introduced the critical ideas of Renaissance theorists to England.

Philip Sidney was the eldest son of Sir Henry Sidney and his wife, Lady Mary Dudley,
daughter of the duke of Northumberland, and godson of King Philip II of Spain.
After Elizabeth I succeeded to the throne, his father was appointed lord president of Wales
(and later served three times as lord deputy of Ireland), while his uncle, Robert Dudley, was
created earl of Leicester and became the queen’s most trusted adviser. In keeping with his
family background, the young Sidney was intended for a career as a statesman and soldier. At
age 10 he entered Shrewsbury School, where his classmate was Fulke Greville (later a court
official under Elizabeth), who became his lifelong friend and was his early biographer. In
February 1568 he began a three-year period of studies at Christ Church, Oxford, afterward
traveling in Europe between May 1572 and June 1575, perfecting his knowledge of Latin,
French, and Italian. He also gained firsthand knowledge of European politics and became
acquainted with many of Europe’s leading statesmen. His first court appointment came in the
spring of 1576, when he succeeded his father as cupbearer to the queen, a ceremonial
position. Then in February 1577, when he was only 22, he was sent as ambassador to the
German emperor Rudolf II and the elector palatine Louis VI, carrying
Queen Elizabeth’s condolences on the deaths of their fathers. But along with this formal task,
he also had secret instructions to sound out the German princes on their attitude toward the
formation of a Protestant league—the chief political aim being to protect England by
associating it with other Protestant states in Europe that would counterbalance the threatening
power of Roman Catholic Spain. Sidney apparently brought back enthusiastic reports on the
possibilities of forming such a league, but the cautious queen sent other emissaries to check
on his reports, and they returned with less-optimistic accounts of the German princes’
reliability as allies. He did not receive another major official appointment until eight years
later.
He nevertheless continued to busy himself in the politics and diplomacy of his country. In
1579 he wrote privately to the queen, advising her against a proposal that she enter into a
marriage with the duke of Anjou, the Roman Catholic heir to the French throne. Sidney,
moreover, was a member of Parliament for Kent in 1581 and 1584–85. He corresponded with
foreign statesmen and entertained important visitors—including the French Protestant envoy
Philippe de Mornay in 1577, the German Calvinist prince Casimir in 1578, the Portuguese
pretender Dom António in 1581, and, later, a number of Scottish lords. Sidney was among
the few Englishmen of his time with any interest in the newly discovered Americas, and he
supported maritime explorations by the navigator Sir Martin Frobisher. In 1582 Richard
Hakluyt, who published accounts of English explorers’ enterprises, dedicated his Divers
Voyages Touching the Discoverie of America to him. Sidney later became interested in the
project to establish the American colony of Virginia, sent out by Sir Walter Raleigh, and he
intended to set out himself in an expedition with Sir Francis Drake against the Spaniards. He
had wide-ranging intellectual and artistic interests, discussed art with the painter Nicholas
Hilliard and chemistry with the scientist John Dee, and was a great patron of scholars and
men of letters. More than 40 works by English and European authors were dedicated to him
—works of divinity, ancient and modern history, geography, military affairs, law, logic,
medicine, and poetry—indicating the breadth of his interests. Among the many poets and
prose writers who sought his patronage were Edmund Spenser, Abraham Fraunce,
and Thomas Lodge.

Sidney was an excellent horseman and became renowned for his participation in tournaments
—elaborate entertainments, half athletic contest and half symbolic spectacle, that were a chief
amusement of the court. He hankered after a life of heroic action, but his official activities
were largely ceremonial—attending on the queen at court and accompanying her on her
progresses about the country. In January 1583 he was knighted, not because of any
outstanding accomplishment but in order to give him the qualifications needed to stand in for
his friend Prince Casimir, who was to receive the honour of admittance to the Order of the
Garter but was unable to attend the ceremony. In September he married Frances, daughter of
Queen Elizabeth’s secretary of state, Sir Francis Walsingham. They had one daughter,
Elizabeth.

Because the queen would not give him an important post, he had turned to literature as an
outlet for his energies. In 1578 he composed a pastoral playlet, The Lady of May, for the
queen. By 1580 he had completed a version of his heroic prose romance, the Arcadia. It is
typical of his gentlemanly air of assumed nonchalance that he should call it “a trifle, and that
triflingly handled,” whereas it is in fact an intricately plotted narrative of 180,000 words.
Early in 1581 his aunt, the countess of Huntington, had brought to court her ward, Penelope
Devereux, who later that year married the young Lord Rich. Whether or not Sidney really did
fall in love with her, during the summer of 1582 he composed a sonnet sequence, Astrophel
and Stella, that recounts a courtier’s passion in delicately fictionalized terms: its first
stirrings, his struggles against it, and his final abandonment of his suit to give himself instead
to the “great cause” of public service. These sonnets, witty and impassioned, brought
Elizabethan poetry at once of age. About the same time, he wrote The Defence of Poesie, an
urbane and eloquent plea for the social value of imaginative fiction, which remains the finest
work of Elizabethan literary criticism. In 1584 he began a radical revision of his Arcadia,
transforming its linear dramatic plot into a many-stranded, interlaced narrative. He left it half
finished, but it remains the most important work of prose fiction in English of the 16th
century. He also composed other poems and later began a paraphrase of the Psalms. He wrote
for his own amusement and for that of his close friends; true to the gentlemanly code of
avoiding commercialism, he did not allow his writings to be published in his lifetime.

The incomplete revised version of his Arcadia was not printed until 1590; in 1593 another
edition completed the story by adding the last three books of his original version (the
complete text of the original version remained in manuscript until 1926). His Astrophel and
Stella was printed in 1591 in a corrupt text, his Defence of Poesie in 1595, and a collected
edition of his works in 1598, reprinted in 1599 and nine times during the 17th century.

Although in July 1585 he finally received his eagerly awaited public appointment, his
writings were to be his most lasting accomplishment. He was appointed, with his uncle, the
earl of Warwick, as joint master of the ordnance, an office that administered the military
supplies of the kingdom. In November the queen was finally persuaded to assist the struggle
of the Dutch against their Spanish masters, sending them a force led by the earl of Leicester.
Sidney was made governor of the town of Flushing (Dutch: Vlissingen) and was given
command of a company of cavalry. But the following 11 months were spent in ineffective
campaigns against the Spaniards, while Sidney was hard put to maintain the morale of his
poorly paid troops. He wrote to his father-in-law that, if the queen did not pay her soldiers,
she would lose her garrisons but that, for himself, the love of the cause would never make
him weary of his resolution, because he thought “a wise and constant man ought never to
grieve while he doth play his own part truly, though others be out.”

On September 22, 1586, he volunteered to serve in an action to prevent the Spaniards from
sending supplies into the town of Zutphen. The supply train was heavily guarded, and the
English were outnumbered; but Sidney charged three times through the enemy lines, and,
even though his thigh was shattered by a bullet, he rode his horse from the field. He was
carried to Arnhem, where his wound became infected, and he prepared himself religiously for
death. In his last hours he confessed: He was buried at St. Paul’s Cathedral in London on
February 16, 1587, with an elaborate funeral of a type usually reserved for great noblemen.
The Universities of Oxford and Cambridge and scholars throughout Europe issued memorial
volumes in his honour, while almost every English poet composed verses in his praise. He
won this adulation even though he had accomplished no action of consequence; it would be
possible to write a history of Elizabethan political and military affairs without so much as
mentioning his name. It is not what he did but what he was that made him so widely admired:
the embodiment of the Elizabethan ideal of gentlemanly virtue.

OLD ARCADIA (1570)

Although Old Arcadia has never been greatly popular, it has entertained a small set of readers
for over 400 years with its sensational treatment of sex, politics, violence, soporifics, mobs,
and cross-dressing. Narrated in sprawling Renaissance prose, the romance comprises five
"books or acts," organized according to the five-part structure of classical dramaturgy:
exposition, action, complication, reversal, catastrophe. This hybrid structure—part prose
romance and part classical drama—allows Sidney to contain the diverseness of romance
within the cohesiveness of the dramatic arc. The work is often called "tragicomic" for its
combination of a "serious" high plot centering on the princes and Duke Basilius's household
and a "comic" low plot that centers on the steward Dametas's family. The standard modern
edition of Old Arcadia, on which this synopsis is based, is edited by Jean
Robertson (Clarendon: Oxford, 1973).
Book I
In Book I, the Duke of Arcadia, Basilius, journeys to the oracle at Delphos and receives a
bleak prediction: his daughters will be stolen by undesirable suitors, he will be cuckolded by
his wife, and his throne will be usurped by a foreign state. Hoping to preempt this fate,
Basilius entrusts the Arcadian government to his loyal subject, Philanax, and retires to
a pastoral lodge with his wife, Gynecia, their attractive daughters, Pamela and Philoclea, his
boorish servant, Dametas, and the latter's repulsive wife and daughter, Miso and Mopsa. In a
nearby city, Pyrocles and Musidorus pass the night; they are cousins, princes, and best
friends, and are famous throughout Greece for their heroic exploits. Pyrocles, upon seeing a
picture of Philoclea at a gallery, is overwhelmed by a passionate desire to see her in person.
To that end, Pyrocles disguises himself as Cleophila, an "[Amazonian lady] going about the
world to practice feats of chivalry," and heads for Basilius's pastoral lodge, accompanied by
the skeptical but loyal Musidorus. Deceived by Cleophila's feminine disguise, Basilius falls
in love with her, and invites her to stay with the family. While Musidorus covertly observes
this meeting, he is overwhelmed by a passionate love for the elder daughter, Pamela, and
decides to disguise himself as a shepherd, Dorus, in order to gain access to her. When
everyone congregates in an arbor to hear the shepherds sing, a lion and bear attack the party.
Cleophila kills the lion, saving Philoclea; Dorus kills the bear, saving Pamela. Cleophila's
manly puissance leads Gynecia to suspect her secret male sex, while Philoclea forms an
intense "sisterly" affection for Cleophila.
Book II
In Book II, the action rises as the romantic relationships become increasingly complicated,
and as Basilius's retirement foments political unrest. Cleophila struggles to woo Philoclea
while simultaneously placating the jealous Basilius and Gynecia. Meanwhile, Dorus, who has
ingratiated himself to Dametas and entered his household as a shepherd-servant, struggles to
woo Pamela, who is always accompanied by Dametas's vain and ugly daughter, Mopsa. To
avoid raising suspicions that he loves Pamela, Dorus addresses all of his significant looks,
sighing, singing, poetry, etc. to Mopsa, who laps it up and fails to notice the heavy-handed
hints that Pamela, not Mopsa, is the object of his passion. In an extremely complicated piece
of hoodwinking, Dorus reveals his identity to Pamela, proposes elopement, and is elated by
the princess's willingness to flee Arcadia with him. Meanwhile, Cleophila manages to reveal
his identity to Philoclea, and they declare their mutual love. Their idyll is interrupted by a
mob of drunken Arcadian rabble who are angry at Basilius for neglecting his sovereign
obligations. Cleophila, Basilius, Dorus and friendly shepherds slaughter much of the mob
before finally subduing it. Book II ends with the establishment of the unusual love "square"
in which father, mother and daughter are all violently in love with the cross-dressed
Pyrocles/Cleophila, and the love triangle comprising Mopsa, Pamela and Dorus. It also
begins the political theme, expanded in the fourth and fifth books, concerning the
implications of negligent government.
Book III
In Book III, Musidorus tells Pyrocles of his intentions to elope with Pamela. Pyrocles
despairs of his own success with Philoclea because he is under the constant surveillance of
the jealous and enamored Basilius and Gynecia. Dorus's elopement strategy begins by
distracting Pamela's guardians: he tricks Dametas into wasting a day on a bogus treasure
hunt; he dispatches Miso by telling her Dametas is cheating on her with a woman in an
adjacent village, and he leaves Mopsa up in a tree waiting for a sign from Jove. The coast
cleared, Dorus and Pamela head for the nearest seaport. While resting, Dorus is overcome by
her beauty and is about to rape her when they are suddenly attacked by another mob.
Meanwhile, Gynecia's passion has become desperate and she threatens to expose Cleophila's
identity if he does not requite her love. To distract Gynecia, Cleophila pretends to requite her
love, which aggravates Basilius and Philoclea. In an ill-fated bed-trick, Cleophila promises a
nocturnal assignation to both Gynecia and Basilius in a nearby cave, intending to trick the
husband and wife into sleeping with each other (hoping they won't notice that the other is not
Cleophila) and to enjoy a night alone with Philoclea. Book III ends with a double "climax":
the attempted rape of Pamela by Dorus, and the consummated union of Pyrocles and
Philoclea.
Book IV
In Book IV, Dorus and Cleophila suffer a major reversal of fortune. Dametas, Miso and
Mopsa return to the lodge to find Pamela missing, and Dametas, fearing punishment for
neglecting his royal ward, begins a frantic search for Pamela. Supposing her to be with her
sister, Philoclea, Dametas barges into Philoclea's bed chamber and finds, of course, not
Pamela, but "Cleophila," who is naked and in bed with Philoclea, and who is evidently not a
woman. Dametas bolts the lovers inside and sounds the alarum. In the cave, Gynecia and
Basilius, each thinking the other is Cleophila, have sex, but recognize each other in the
morning. Basilius accidentally drinks a potion that Gynecia had intended for Cleophila, and
dies. Gynecia becomes hysterical and self-incriminating, and offers herself up to justice as
the murderer of her husband and the sovereign. Philanax, Basilius's loyal friend, arrives to
investigate the duke's death and Pamela's flight, and becomes a zealous advocate for
executing everyone associated with the death of Basilius. Meanwhile, Musidorus and Pamela
fall captive to the attacking mob, but not before Musidorus kills and gruesomely maims
several of them. Hoping for a reward for finding the fugitives, the mob heads for Basilius, but
is intercepted and slaughtered by Philanax and his men, who take the captive Dorus and
Pamela, who are now primary suspects in the duke's murder. Thus, Dorus (now "Palladius")
joins Cleophila (now "Timopyrus") in prison. Pamela demands to be recognized as the new
sovereign, but Philanax demands an interim period of investigation and burial before the
succession is established. Meanwhile, the body politic erupts into a confused and "dangerous
tumult" about political succession.
Book V
Book V brings the action to its catastrophe. Philanax struggles to maintain order in Arcadia,
which is dangerously divided: some factions support various political climbers, others clamor
for democratic government, and some call for the election of the two princes, whose good
looks and military prowess had made them very popular. Philanax needs a leader capable of
commanding the allegiance of the Arcadians and of bringing justice to Basilius's murderers.
Luckily, the sovereign most renowned for his wise and just government, Euarchus of
Thessalia, has traveled to Arcadia to visit his good friend Basilius. Euarchus is also the father
of Pyrocles and uncle of Musidorus, but has no idea what they have been up to. Philanax
persuades the reluctant Eurarchus to aid Arcadia by assuming authority for the present and
becoming the state's "protector." The book concludes with a lengthy trial scene. Gynecia,
"Palladius" and "Timopyrus" are brought forth to stand before Euarchus, who presides as
judge, and Philanax, who argues on behalf of the apparently murdered Basilius. Gynecia's
trial goes quickly because she, overcome by grief, wants to die as quickly as possible, and
gives a false confession of intentionally poisoning her husband and sovereign. Euarchus
sentences her to death by being entombed alive with Basilius. "Timopyrus" is tried next, and
Philanax delivers a vituperative oratory condemning him for cross-dressing, for raping
Philoclea, and for conspiring with Gynecia to murder Basilius; "Timopyrus" is acquitted of
the murder charges, but is sentenced to death for raping Philoclea. "Palladius" is likewise
condemned to death for attempted theft of the royal daughter, Pamela. As the convicts are
escorted to their executions, a friendly compatriot of Musidorus suddenly arrives with
important information. He has heard about the trial, guessed the princes' true identities, and
feels Euarchus should know that he has condemned his own son and nephew to death (for
various reasons, the identities of Euarchus and the princes has been hitherto obscured). At
this moment of recognition, or anagnorisis, Euarchus is devastated, but decides that justice
trumps kinship, and with a heavy heart confirms their death sentence. Suddenly, groans are
heard from Basilius's corpse and, to the surprise and delight of all, Basilius emerges from a
deep coma. All are forgiven, the princes marry the princesses, and the book thus ends with a
comic reversal, or peripeteia, from justice and death to reconciliation and marriage.
NEW ARCADIA 1580
The version of the Arcadia known to the Renaissance and later periods is substantially longer
than the Old Arcadia. In the 1580s, Sidney took the frame of the original story, reorganized it,
and added episodes, most significantly the story of the just rebel Amphialus. The additions
more than double the original story; however, Sidney had not finished the revision at the time
of his death in 1586.
The New Arcadia is a romance that combines pastoral elements with a mood derived from
the Hellenistic model of Heliodorus. A highly idealized version of the shepherd's life adjoins,
on the other hand and not always naturally (in its literary sense), stories of jousts, political
treachery, kidnappings, battles, and rapes. As published, the narrative follows the Greek
model: stories are nested within each other, and different storylines are intertwined.
After Sidney's death, his revised Arcadia was prepared for the press and published in two
differing editions. Fulke Greville, in collaboration with Matthew Gwinne and John Florio,
edited and oversaw the publication of the 1590 edition, which ends in mid-scene and mid-
sentence.
In 1593 Mary Herbert herself published an edition in which the original version supplements
and concludes the part that Sidney revised. Later additions filled in gaps in the story, most
notably the fifth edition of 1621, which included Sir William Alexander's attempt to work
over the gap between Sidney's two versions of the story. Other continuations and
developments of Sidney's story were published separately.
The hybrid editions did not efface the difference between the highly artificial, hellenized
revised portion and the straightforward conclusion Sidney wrote originally. Nevertheless, it
was in this form that Sidney's work entered history and reached a wide readership.

Astrophil and Stella Summary and Analysis of Sonnets 1-31

1. The author opens this first sonnet by explaining his motivation for composing the sonnet
sequence. He believes that if his love were to read the sonnets, she would eventually return
his affection. He argues that her pleasure in his pain would cause her to read his sonnets, and
her reading of the sonnets would allow her to know the extent of his affection, which might
make her pity the author's situation-and this pity may transform into grace and love.

The author also describes his difficulties in composing the sonnet sequence. He has struggled
to express the pain and misery of his emotions and has tried to look at other poets' works in
order to gain inspiration. Still, he has been unsuccessful. Finally, the author has realized that
the only way to fully express his love for Stella in his poetry is to write from his heart.
Analysis: Sidney's actions of writing about how to compose a love sonnet allow him to do
just that: compose a love sonnet. With this in mind, he warns the reader that the emotions
expressed in the entire sonnet sequence stem directly from the heart-thus, he cannot be held
rationally responsible. The statements in this first sonnet make clear that Sidney (who already
can be identified with the author of the love sonnets) is conflicted in his role as a zealous
lover and a self-critical poet. This sonnet demonstrates the first of many clashes between
reason and passion that appear in the sonnet sequence. He already seems to know that he will
never truly win Stella, but he cannot help but desire her. This conflict between contradicting
forces is a crucial element of the sequence.
2. The author describes the slow progression of love into his life. Love did not come quickly
or at first sight. Instead, the author's love for Stella began slowly and infiltrated his heart
before he realized what was happening. He began by viewing her in a purely platonic way,
and he then began to appreciate her more-and he finally fell in love with her. At first he
bemoaned his loss of liberty at the hands of love, but now, his emotions run too deep to allow
him to make even that small complaint about the circumstances. He praises his slavery and
spends his time trying to obscure the truth of his situation.

Analysis: Sidney presents himself as a passive participant in the progression of love. He has
no control over his emotions. Moreover, because of the slow and steady progression of his
emotions, he was unable to guard himself in any way. He is a slave to love and has no power
to escape it. By presenting himself as a slave to a sort of happy tyranny, Sidney both justifies
and excuses his actions. According to his inflexible Protestant background, Sidney's desire
for Stella is inappropriate and must be restrained at all times. But if he is not under his own
control, existing as nothing more than a slave to love, he cannot be judged as completely
responsible for his behavior.
3. The author provides examples of all of the actions the Muses can inspire, ranging from
increasing wittiness to enriching poetry with exotic metaphors. But Sidney asserts that he
does not call upon any of the Muses in order to write his poetry. Instead, he looks to Stella
herself for inspiration. Nevertheless, all of the exotic metaphors and complex phrases that the
Muses can inspire in other poets are beyond his reach because Stella affects him too
personally. She holds the source of all beauty and, in the end, his poetry only can only mirror
what already exists in her.

Analysis: The sonnet begins with rich imagery meant to evoke the Muses, the nine sister
goddesses who were thought to embody the arts and inspire all creative imagination. In the
epic tradition it was standard practice to call upon them explicitly at the beginning of the
narrative. This sonnet is ironic because it describes Stella as both a stimulus and a drain on
his creative power. He is unable to call upon the nine Muses for inspiration in his poetry
because of his love for Stella, yet she is the only muse he can accept in his heart. Stella
unfortunately cannot incite Astrophel's imagination. Worse, he only can write what already
exists in her beauty; he is unable to create anything new. This seems to be an expression of
traditional poetic humility.
4. Astrophel is weary of Virtue who, in his sternness, will not allow any vices. He urges
Virtue to leave him alone, arguing that if Virtue does not like elements of Astrophel's
character, Virtue should just ignore them. Astrophel recognizes that he has faults, but like a
colt, he is too young to be driven so hard at Virtue's hands (his mouth is too tender for
Virtue's bit). Still, even the old master Virtue could understand his love for Stella with a little
convincing. Astrophel argues that the image of Stella in Astrophel's heart would be sufficient
to make even Virtue himself fall in love with her.

Analysis: The poem depicts Virtue as a sort of stern schoolteacher. In doing so, the poem
also creates a different view of Astrophel as the lover. Astrophel is young and full of life. He
is contemptuous of churches, schools, and the power of thought because his will and his wit
are constantly at odds with one another. He views the world in this way because he sees it
through the lens of his love for Stella. In the last section of the poem, Astrophel becomes
gentler as he begins to describe Stella. Stella's image is enough convince Virtue to fall in
love, but Astrophel emphasizes that this is a result of her inherent virtue rather than her
power.
5. Sidney lists a series of truths. First, we are born to serve reason alone. Second, lovers have
only themselves to blame for succumbing to Cupid's dart. Third, virtue is beauty in its true
form, rather than the superficial appearance that is usually regarded as beauty. The final truth
here is that people are only pilgrims on this earth who should concentrate on their souls. Even
though he recognizes the truth of all of these statements, he is unable to separate his rational
understanding from the love in his heart. Despite his knowledge of all of these truths, he
concludes that he still loves Stella. His love for her is truth for him even though all of the
other truths contradict it.

Analysis: This poem is essentially a series of moral axioms upended in the end with a final
strange conclusion. Sidney uses the term "true" frequently in the sonnet in order to play with
the reader's mind and toy with the meaning of the term. All of the force he establishes with
the idea of truth in the first thirteen lines is used in the last line to prove his final truth: that he
must love Stella. The closing phrase is the first deeply personal note of the poem, and it gains
its power from the contrast with the previous thirteen lines. Astrophel agrees to become a
"rebel to Nature" and a "foole" to Cupid's power. Yet, he emphasizes that he does not have a
choice in the decision; he "must" love Stella with an urgency that is beyond his control.
6. Mirroring the first sonnet in the sequence, Sidney describes why he is unable to copy other
poets. He refers to the numerous conventions used to write sonnets. First, some poets view
love as an overpowering force that makes lovers suffer. Second, some use contradictory
terms or oxymorons, such as "living deaths" and "freezing fires." Third, some use mythology
to express their ideas, for example, describing the many disguises of Jove. Fourth, some use
the pastoral tradition, depicting gentlemen and ladies dressed as shepherds and
shepherdesses. Finally, some use conceits to write their sonnets (these are extended
metaphors with a complex logic that often dominates an entire poem). For example, there is
the comparison between tears and ink. Although he recognizes all of these literary traditions
for expressing love in sonnets, Sidney declares that he only can express his love through his
voice.

Analysis: Sidney describes poets' various means of expressing love in their sonnets.
Although he hardly employs the traditions they use, he feels his love as intensely as they do.
Instead of writing poetry, however, all that he needs to do to show his love is reveal the
trembling in his voice as he whispers her name. This is one of the earliest literary calls for
originality in one's work. In Sidney's time, it was common for authors and poets to steal the
plots of others. William Shakespeare, for one, thought nothing of "borrowing" other people's
plots as well as the stories of real historical figures to use in his plays. Yet, Sidney is unable
(or perhaps, unwilling) to rely on other poets to demonstrate his love. In the end, the emotion
in his voice is far superior in expressing his love than any borrowed literary conventions.
7. The sonnet opens with a riddle: "What Nature made her chiefe worke, Stella's eyes, / In
colour blacke, why wrapt she beames so bright?" Astrophel lists several possible answers to
the riddle. It could be for the aesthetic effect (since Stella's black eyes set off her fair skin).
Her eyes could act as a black veil to obscure the dazzling Platonic light. Or, her eyes could be
meant to show Nature's great power by making the color black seem beautiful. Each of these
responses is offered with hesitation in the form of questions. The true response is the final
one: Stella's eyes are black in order to mourn all of those men who die for the love of her.
Analysis: Astrophel devotes almost the entire poem to praising Stella's eyes. Yet, nothing in
the poem is certain (none of the reasons is accurate) until the witty couplet at the end of the
poem. In an ironic shift, the only certain thing in the poem, other than that her eyes are black,
is that her eyes have a destructive effect on Astrophel. This is a slightly skewed version of a
traditional metaphor used in Renaissance poetry: the idea that the mistress's eyes can kill the
lover with a glance.
8. Astrophel describes the voyage of Cupid from his native home in Greece to Astrophel's
own heart. Because the hearts of Turkish lovers were too hard to be pierced with his arrows,
Cupid traveled to England. Although the hearts of the British were soft and susceptible to his
darts, Cupid felt cold in the new climate and tried to find a warm location in which to settle
himself. He saw Stella's brilliant face and, because its beauty was so warm, he imagined that
it was a source of heat. When her face turned out to be cold, Love moved into Astrophel's
heart, where the flames of Astrophel's desire for Stella burned off Cupid's wings.

Analysis: Sidney describes his love for Stella as a result of Cupid's behavior. He has no
control over Cupid because Love is now literally trapped in his heart; Cupid cannot fly away
without his wings. Ironically, Cupid is trapped in Astrophel's heart because of his own
actions: it was he who first stoked the flames for Stella that eventually burned Cupid's wings.
Ultimately, even Love has no power over Stella. Despite Cupid's best efforts, he was unable
to live in her face. Astrophel fears that perhaps Stella is immune to love.
9. Astrophel describes the different elements of Stella's beautiful face. Her forehead is
alabaster; her hair is gold; her mouth is made of red porphir; her teeth are pearls; and her
cheeks are a combination of red and white marble. The windows of this palace, Stella's eyes,
look over the world, but anyone looking will discover that there is nothing in the world that is
as beautiful as Stella's face.

Analysis: Astrophel depicts Stella's beauty as a sort of architectural design of Nature. Not
only does her face possess all of Nature's best "furniture" (or facial features), it is equipped
with the very best materials: gold, alabaster, pearl, marble, and so forth. Compared to this
wealth, Astrophel is nothing but a pauper who tracks in ink and paper. He recognizes that he
is unworthy of entering "Queen Virtue's Court."
10. Astrophel mocks Reason for its attempt to cultivate his loving mind. He urges Reason to
climb the Muses' hill or seek the inside of Heaven rather than waste time attempting to instill
rationality in Astrophel's mind. Even if Reason did continue to fight, Astrophel declares, as
soon as he was faced with Stella's eyes he would fall to his knees. Immediately, even Reason
would be so overcome by Stella's beauty that Reason would give himself up in her name.

Analysis: This sonnet mirrors Sonnet 4 in its presentation of Reason as a sort of grumbling
old schoolmaster. Astrophel possesses a tone of familiar contempt for Reason, declaring that
Reason is well served in his defeat. Astrophel only lessens his contemptuous tone when
Reason succumbs to Stella and falls to his knees. In the final couplet of the sonnet, Sidney
describes the truth behind the conflict between reason and love. Even the most intelligent
person can succumb to rationalizations, putting reason in the service of desire. As in Sonnet
4, Astrophel emphasizes that public standards of reason and virtue are irrelevant in the
private world of love.
11. Astrophel bemoans Cupid's failure to obtain Stella's heart. He describes Cupid as a little
boy who pretends to go about the action of love with seriousness but actually misses the
crucial elements. Astrophel compares Stella to a beautiful book with gilded pages. Like a
foolish boy, Cupid plays with the beautiful outside of the book, but he fails to delve inside
and obtain the full meaning of the book. Cupid's behavior with the book, Astrophel laments,
is mirrored in his behavior with Stella. He plays with her exterior beauty, setting bird traps in
her cheeks and crouching in her breast, but in doing so, he forgets to go inside and capture
her heart.

Analysis: Astrophel continues to worry that Stella's heart will never be touched by love. He
blames Cupid for this failure, presenting Love as a sort of asexual figure who, literally, does
not know what he is supposed to do with a beautiful woman. Without Cupid, another
traditional poetic fallback is unavailable for use. Astrophel laments the irony of his situation.
As an adult man, he would not play boyish games with Stella's exterior; he would try to catch
her heart. Yet, the only individual who actually has access to her and the ability to steal her
heart is Cupid, who is too young or naïve to do it.
12. Astrophel spends the majority of the sonnet describing the different ways in which Cupid
is present in Stella's person. Cupid shines in Stella's eyes, and he catches larks with her
golden hair. He provokes flames of love in others and then fans them using Stella's breath.
All of his wrongs are justified by Stella's grace, and Stella's voice can persuade anyone to fall
in love. Yet, Astrophel declares, Cupid is mistaken in believing that he has conquered Stella
for his own advantage. Her heart is a fortress, heavily guarded against Love's infiltration.

Analysis: Cupid is still fooled into believing that he wields power over Stella. In fact, Stella
is in control of Cupid, using him to ensnare lovers for herself but never allowing him to
access her heart (even if he knew he should do so). The poem emphasizes the ideas of woman
as fortress and lover as besieger. This metaphor was common in medieval and early modern
poetry. Yet, as Astrophel acknowledges, Stella's heart is an impenetrable fortress which, if
Cupid himself has failed to conquer it, Astrophel will never be able to penetrate it.
13. Phoebus was directed to judge between Jove, Mars, and Love to determine whose coat of
arms was the best. Jove's shield displayed eagles carrying Ganymede into the skies, and he
carried thunderbolts on his crest. Mars's shield depicted a golden spear thrust through a
bleeding heart, and he carried the net of Venus on his crest. Cupid used Stella, positioning her
face as his shield and her golden hair as his crest. Phoebus instantly crowned Cupid the
winner of the challenge, swearing that Jove and Mars were scarcely worth a comparison.

Analysis: Stella is who elevates Cupid above Jove and Mars. As a result of her presence on
his shield and crest, the two other gods are "scarcely gentlemen," barely worthy of a coat of
arms at all. Significantly, the phrase "roses gules are born in silver field," meaning red roses
on a silver background, is a direct reference to the arms of the Devereux family, which
consisted of three red disks in a silver field. Compare this contest with the judgment (which
indirectly caused the events of the Iliad) that Paris had to make regarding which of three
goddesses, Hera, Athena, or Aphrodite, was the most beautiful.
14. The speaker presents two different views of love. In the first eight lines, love is a fierce
bird of prey and, according to Astrophel's friend, is made up of desire and sinful thoughts. In
the final sestet, Astrophel responds to his friend's criticism, expressing a new definition of
love. He attempts to show that his friend's view of sin is inflexible and conventional but not
true. And if love really is sin, Astrophel will gladly be sinful.

Analysis: In the sonnet, the friend views love as lustful desire. In this perspective, love is sin.
Sidney views love in terms of what it can accomplish: enlightenment and attainment of a
higher plane of emotion. The sestet of this sonnet, lauding the virtues of love, foreshadows
other sonnets that will occur later in the sequence. But of the two views of love in the sonnet,
it is the first view of love as a sin that dominates in the first third of the entire sequence. Even
so, Astrophel is happy to accept that view and embrace his sinful state.
15. Astrophel directs this sonnet to other poets, specifically those who strive to write their
sonnets with far-fetched metaphors and florid language. Whether these other poets try to
channel imagery from ancient mythology or use the dictionary to find rhymes, Astrophel
asserts that they are taking the wrong route in writing. If they need to use these alternative
paths, they clearly do not possess the inner love that inspires poetry and, ultimately, they will
plagiarize other poets. All that a poet needs for original inspiration, Astrophel declares, is a
single look at Stella.

Analysis: Sidney also critiques plagiarism and imitation in sonnets 1, 3, and 6. As in the
other sonnets, Sidney maintains that inspiration is only lacking in poetry if it does not stem
directly from the heart. His muse is Stella, and he does not need to use the methods of other
poets (the dictionary, mythological images, and so on) in order to express his true feelings.
This sonnet is simultaneously tongue-in-cheek because, although he may not plagiarize,
Sidney does utilize classical mythology and florid language in other sonnets in this sequence.
16. Astrophel describes his loves before he first beheld Stella. He saw beautiful women and,
as a hot-blooded young man, he became attracted to them. Believing that this emotion was
love, Astrophel mocked the other men who claimed to be filled with such suffering from
love. Since he did not feel the flames of love, he believed that the other men were simply
cowards or weak. But then Astrophel saw Stella, and suddenly he learned the truth of the love
that the others had suffered.

Analysis: Astrophel is unable to determine whether his first glimpse of Stella was a curse or a
blessing. Although he finally learned the true meaning of love through his sight of her, he
also now undergoes terrible suffering because of it. Love is described as a sort of poison that
appeals to lovers even as it drains their lives away. Astrophel also describes the situation as a
lesson in a classroom. He was ill educated about love before Stella, and she opened his eyes
to a new world and a new knowledge. But, he asks, what was the price of that knowledge?
17. Venus fears that Mars's affection for her is waning, and she asks Cupid to shoot him with
his darts. Fearing Mars's anger at him if he agrees, Cupid refuses his mother's request. In a
violent rage, Venus pushes Cupid from her lap and breaks his bow and all of his arrows into
pieces. Cupid's grandmother, Nature, takes pity on him and gives him two new bows, formed
from Stella's eyebrows, and a multitude of arrows, formed from Stella's eyes. Happy with his
new weapons, Cupid immediately begins to test them out and, as Astrophel sheepishly
admits, Astrophel gets in his way.

Analysis: Astrophel uses a theme from classical mythology in order to praise Stella's beauty.
Stella's eyebrows become Cupid's new bows while her eyes become the arrows, a fact that
elevates her beauty to a celestial level; her eyebrows and eyes are heavenly enough to
constitute the primary weapon of Love. Ironically, Cupid uses his new weapon to pierce
Astrophel's heart and make him fall in love with Stella. The weapon of his love and the object
of his affection both involve the same woman.
18. The sonnet begins with a sense of regret for Astrophel's loss of reason and rationality.
Then he remembers his love for Stella and wishes that he had more than his reason to give up
for her. Meditating on his emotions, Astrophel imagines himself as a prodigal son who is
bankrupt. He states the case for reason, rationality, and virtue and realizes that he has lost
himself. Yet, he asserts himself through the voice that appears in the thirteenth line of the
poem and abandons any hope of regaining himself.

Analysis: The sonnet does not present its case for love in a dramatic way. Astrophel
acknowledges that he has lost his reason and rationality, and he accepts it. There is only a
gentle movement away from the criticism and judgment of the world. He seems even to
present a quiet, almost cheerful shrug of his shoulders.
19. Astrophel describes how his love for Stella is destroying him. His heartstrings on Cupid's
bow are completely destroyed, but he continues to embrace his destruction at Stella's hands.
He revels in his love but then feels shame, just as he runs willingly toward Stella, repenting
his actions even as he runs. Although he knows that all of his poems will not affect her
feelings toward him, he will continue to write them at Love's urging.

Analysis: Sidney uses a series of contractions to express Astrophel's lack of control over his
love for Stella. Even though he recognizes that his efforts are in vain (even the words he
writes in his poetry warn him of this), he is unable to stop loving Stella. Moreover, through
his love for Stella, he is beginning to fall into a moral decline. The love poetry he writes for
her is evidence of this decline.
20. In this sonnet, Astrophel describes the process of falling in love with Stella, an action that
begins with the poet's first sight of her. He is ambushed by Cupid, hiding in Stella's lovely,
black eyes. Through each of Stella's glances toward him, Astrophel is attacked by Cupid's
darts. Though he sees the darts coming toward him ("motions of lightning' grace"), he is
unable to escape before they pierce his heart.

Analysis: Sidney takes the common Renaissance understanding of love (that love is
transmitted through the eyes) and redirects the tone via a hunting scene. With his first sight of
Stella, Astrophel warns his hunting companions to flee. He dramatizes love as a sort of
ambush; he is no longer the hunter, having become the hunted. Yet, this ambush is still
playful; Astrophel welcomes the betrayal at the hands of Cupid.
21. Astrophel is concerned with his difficulty in maintaining reason in his life. An outside
speaker begins to criticize his behavior, arguing that his love for Stella directly challenges his
training and expectations for life, as well as his intelligence. The speaker describes love as
"coltish" and irrational and emphasizes that Astrophel's behavior will be detrimental to his
public position. At the end of the poem, Astrophel gives his reply. It has little to do with the
rest of the poem and his friend's criticism, remaining independent of outside judgment.

Analysis: The sonnet ultimately defends Astrophel against the attack of an outside observer.
In this case, the attacker is a friend who is concerned about Astrophel's behavior and seeming
loss of reason in his love for Stella. The defense is informal, with its casual "sure" and "my
friend," while Astrophel stands firm behind his love. Love may be disorderly and outside of
the realm of nature but, as Astrophel innocently asks, "Is there anyone in the world as
beautiful as Stella?" Similar to Sonnet 18, this sonnet does not argue violently for love;
Astrophel simply listens to the criticism of the outside observer and then moves on,
unchanged in his affection.
22. On a day when the sun was at its hottest and not obscured by any clouds, several ladies of
the Court went for a walk. Each of the women was protected from the sun with fans, with the
exception of Stella, who went outside completely unprotected. Astrophel questions Stella's
decision to face the sun unprotected; he suggests that it is either because Stella wished to
mirror the sun in its openness or because she was careless of her own beauty. All of the ladies
became sunburned except for Stella. As Astrophel explains, while the sun burned all of the
other women, it merely kissed Stella.

Analysis: In this sonnet, Astrophel continues to praise Stella's beauty and compare it to
transcendental forces. In this case, Stella's beauty is unique in comparison with the other
ladies of the Court-and the sun itself is entranced. While the other ladies are common and
thus are sunburned, Stella receives a gentle kiss from the sun, being a sort of kindred spirit.
23. The intellectual scholars recognize a bored thoughtfulness in Astrophel's eyes and attempt
to guess the reason behind it. Some of them believe that Astrophel is becoming inspired to
write a new non-poetic work. Others believe that he has political aspirations because the
prince is trying his service. Still others believe that Astrophel is succumbing to his ambition
and that his brain is held captive in the question for higher social or intellectual position. Yet
all of the scholars are mistaken. The only thing actually in Astrophel's thoughts is Stella.

Analysis: The scholars believe that Astrophel's distraction is due to a variety of different
causes, but none of them suspects love. Each group assigns a different explanation to his
behavior, expressing their own anxieties about social position and political ambition.
Ironically, all of their concerns are for nothing. They cannot comprehend that Astrophel is
distracted by romantic love rather than ambition.
24. Astrophel discusses the rich men in the world who are morally corrupt and wicked in
their activities. They strive to become wealthy and powerful, even at the detriment of all of
those around them. Even these corrupt men, Astrophel asserts, are at least able to recognize
the value of something that they hold in their hands. The "rich fool," on the other hand, is so
blind and immoral that he is unable to recognize the beauty and worth of his wife, Stella. In a
just world, his abuse of Stella would result in his exile from her presence forever.

Analysis: The term "rich" in this sonnet is a reference to Lord Robert Rich, the husband of
Penelope Devereux. According to historical sources, Penelope was unhappy in her marriage
with Lord Rich, a fact that added to Sidney's obvious rancor toward him. Sidney has a great
deal of disdain for Lord Rich because of his inability to recognize his wife's superior
qualities. As a result, Sidney suggests that the only just solution would be for Lord Rich to
withdraw from his marriage.
25. Astrophel begins by citing Plato, the wisest scholar. In the Phaedrus, Plato declares that if
an individual saw Virtue in a physical form, that individual would immediately fall in love
with it. Astrophel acknowledges the truth of this declaration. He declares that Virtue took the
physical form of Stella and that he himself fell in love with her.
Analysis: This sonnet has an interesting interplay between Love and Reason, two forces that
are frequently set in opposition in the sonnet sequence. In the first eight lines, Astrophel
refers to Reason through Plato, citing his work and wisdom. Plato seems to redefine the only
true love as the love of Reason and Virtue. In the last six lines of the sonnet, Astrophel
returns to the theme of his love for Stella. By using Plato's rational declaration about Virtue,
however, Astrophel is able to justify his love for Stella, briefly combining Love and Reason.
26. Astrophel responds to scholars who deride astrology and do not recognize the wonders of
the stars in the sky. He argues that Nature was not idle; there must have been an excellent
reason for the formation of the stars. Even if he did not believe this statement, Astrophel
argues, he is constantly reminded of the wonder of the heavens because of the two stars in
Stella's face, her eyes.

Analysis: This is yet another example of Astrophel's praise for Stella through a comparison
with higher powers, focusing again on her eyes. In this case, he does not refer to classical
mythology but references the stars in the sky, making another pun on Stella's name. Even if
his rational knowledge of astrology fails him, Stella's eyes are sufficient to convince him of
the truth.
27. Astrophel describes the reactions of the Court to his behavior after he falls in love with
Stella. He is often speechless in company and sits alone among many. As a result, the rest of
the Court believes that he is poisoned by pride, that he is only interested in himself and
despises those around him. Astrophel realizes, however, that he does not suffer from pride
but from ambition, the ambition to transcend up to Stella's grace.

Analysis: This sonnet refers to an issue that was common in the early modern period: love
versus politics. The replacement of politics with love as the focus of the author's world was
thought to diminish the speaker's ability to function in politics. Love undermines the
speaker's credibility in the Court and proves the idea that love and poetry makes a person
unsuited for a political career.
28. Astrophel directs this poem at poets who interpret poetry allegorically. He does not write
allegories in his poetry-he only says exactly what he means. When he says the name "Stella,"
for example, he refers solely to Stella, the woman he loves. He does not use any metaphorical
ways to prove his love. Instead, he simply reads out the love that burns in his heart.

Analysis: Astrophel argues against the practice of interpreting poetry as an allegory. He

believes that the text of a poem should always refer to the author's intention; the words
should not signify any another meaning. As a result, his poetry is simple but true. Of course,
this is deeply ironic if we interpret the whole sequence as an allegory in which Astrophel
represents Sidney and Stella is Penelope.
29. This sonnet presents an elaborate fiction of Cupid as a mighty warlord who conquers the
frontier through Stella's influence. Astrophel compares Stella's behavior to weak lords who
are neighbored by powerful kings. Just like them, Stella protects herself from Love by giving
him permission to conquer all the coastal towns surrounding him. So, while her heart escapes
from being Love's prisoner, all of those around her are smitten. Because Astrophel lives on
the coast, he in particular becomes a true slave to Love.

Analysis: Astrophel no longer recognizes any difference between Stella and Love. In this
sonnet in particular, Stella has become Cupid's stronghold: his food, his tents, his armor, and
so on. Once again, however, Stella is immune to Love's charms. In a political move, she
makes a deal with Love that allows him to reign over her neighboring lands so long as he
never attempts to reign over her.
30. People ask Astrophel questions about social and political issues that are troubling the
Court. They ask his opinion about the Turkish empire and whether the Polish king will invade
Russia. They ask if the three parts of France (the Catholics, the Protestant Huguenots, and the
moderate Politiques) will ever unite and if the Germans (cited as "Dutch") will boast the
parliament of the Holy Roman Empire. They ask how the Dutch are coping with the loss of
five Dutch towns to Spain (in 1581-1582) and then refer to the unstable political situation in
Scotland. But Astrophel has no interest in these questions because he only thinks of Stella.

Analysis: The moon and horns of the first two lines refer to the Islamic crescent. The Islamic
Turkish Empire posed a serious threat to Europe during this period. In fact, all of the issues
that are presented in this sonnet refer to matters that were of importance to England and
particularly important to Sidney himself.
31. Astrophel sees the moon climbing in the sky at night, and he recognizes in its pale face
the same lovesickness that he experiences. He suggests that, perhaps even in the heights of
the sky, Cupid's arrows are powerful enough to shoot the moon. Then, Astrophel becomes
completely certain that the moon is lovesick. He recognizes its looks and its languishing
grace because they are the same looks and grace that he recognizes in himself. He asks the
moon what life and love are like upon its surface. He asks: Is the faithful lover viewed as an
idiot? Are beautiful women as proud as they are on earth? Do they desire love and attention
but scorn those who give it to them? Do they call ungratefulness a virtue?
Analysis: Sidney's connection to the moon is an example of a "pathetic fallacy" in which
elements of nature appear to experience human emotions. At first Sidney describes the moon
in accordance with classical mythology, as an individual being. Yet, his insistence that the
moon is lovesick does not make sense in this context because the goddess of the moon is
Diana, a perpetual virgin who is not affected by love. Then, Sidney switches his perception of
the moon to adhere to Copernican belief, and he describes the moon as a planet. The series of
questions he asks expresses his desire for a logical explanation of Stella's behavior. He wants
to know if the scorn his love receives at her hands is limited to the earth.

Astrophil and Stella Summary and Analysis of Sonnets 32-50

32. Morpheus, the god of dreams and the son of the god of sleep, has a close relationship
with Astrophel. Morpheus has such a power over him that Astrophel always dreams of Stella.
Astrophel asks the god how he can create such a brilliant image of Stella in his head. Where
does he find the ivory, rubies, pearl, and gold to create her image so well? Morpheus
responds mockingly, declaring that no land can contain such brilliant wealth. The image of
Stella that appears in Astrophel's dreams comes directly from the image that is contained in
his heart.
Analysis: This sonnet is a part of Sidney's mini-sequence on sleep, made up of Sonnets 32,
38, and 39. Sidney refers to the common Renaissance belief that the heart contains an image
of the poet's mistress. Astrophel recognizes that Stella's image in his heart is the source of his
poetry and creative strength.
33. Astrophel bemoans his unhappy state, failing to recognize his love for Stella until after
she married another man. He cannot blame anyone else for his misfortune because he was the
cause of his unhappiness: "to myself myself did give the blow." Astrophel was blinded by his
wit and rationality, so much so that he was unable to recognize the beautiful "day" that was
rising near him, namely, Stella.

Analysis: This sonnet is thought by contemporary critics to refer to Astrophel/Sidney's regret

that he did not marry Stella/Penelope when he had the opportunity. The idea is that he did not
marry her because he was not yet in love with her. Now, however, Astrophel can only punish
himself for missing his one chance to obtain her.
34. This sonnet is a dialogue between Astrophel and Wit. Astrophel claims that he writes his
poetry in order to ease his burdened heart. Wit asks him how reminders of his distress could
possibly ease his heart. Astrophel replies that well-painted distresses can be more pleasing
than the reality, but he is not ashamed to publish his troubles because his poetry may win him
fame. Wit replies that this fame will be nothing more than famous foolishness in the eyes of
wise men. Astrophel tries to counter this argument, declaring that wise men do not have to
listen to what they view as foolishness, but Wit taunts him, asking that if his poetry will not
be heard, what point is there to writing it? The sonnet concludes with an expression of
Astrophel's growing doubt.

Analysis: Sidney introduces a prime audience of the poet's work, the witty courtiers. Most
love poems do not address the lady and, in many cases, the lady would not have been the
most appropriate audience. Sidney writes his poetry with the knowledge that a witty (that is,
intelligent) audience is always looking over his shoulder. The point of this kind of poetry is
not to flatter but to entertain an intelligent audience who can actually appreciate the work.
This is the fact that Wit throws into Astrophel's face. His most important audience is not
Stella, but the witty audience who will understand his poetry even more than she could. Thus
we can understand why Sidney would count on his audience's knowledge of classical
mythology and other poetic traditions.
35. Immediately following Astrophel's expression of doubt in Sonnet 34, this sonnet serves as
a response to the poet's difficulty with words in the previous poem. Astrophel's
speechlessness is presented as a virtue because it means that his words are not merely flattery.
Then the poem shifts in focus to a discussion of the inadequacy of words to praise Stella.

Analysis: The sonnet expresses traditional anxiety about the vocabulary of love. Astrophel
wonders if love can ever be verbally expressed in a way that does not transform it into
flattery. The poem praises Stella through several paradoxes, incorporating figures which have
dominated other sonnets up to this point in the sonnet: Honor, Reason, and Wit. In each case,
love for Stella is sufficient to connect each of these virtues with its opposite while
maintaining its nature: Honor is "honou'rd" as a slave; Reason "blows the cole"; and Wit
learns "perfection." The poem highlights the confusion Astrophel feels upon entering Stella's
world.
36. Astrophel depicts Stella as a conquering force who continuously attacks him. Love serves
as her lieutenant, and her various beauties serve as her armies, marching into Astrophel's eyes
and conquering him from within. Astrophel's armies and defenses have long since fallen to
Stella's flag, so he wonders why she continues to attack him and make him fall more in love
with her. He is already unable to escape from her power.

Analysis: In describing his love for Stella, Sidney uses the metaphor of a battle, with Stella as
the victorious conqueror and himself as her willingly defeated enemy. He has already been
conquered by her military strength (her beauty and sweetness), yet she continues to attack
him. The military metaphor breaks at this point because no conquering force ever continues
to attack a city that has already been conquered. Astrophel wishes Stella would withdraw and
leave him alone with his love.
37. Astrophel presents a riddle to the readers, a riddle that designates Stella as Penelope
Devereux. A beautiful nymph lives in the east, and she is rich in all qualities. She is rich in
beauty, rich in renown, rich in heart, and-above all-rich in virtue. Yet, even though this
nymph is rich in all things, the greatest misfortune for Astrophel is that she is a Rich.

Analysis: The puns on the term "rich" refer to Lord Robert Rich, Stella's or Penelope's
husband. The east ("Aurora's court") could refer to the Rich family estate, which was in the
eastern county of Essex. This sonnet was omitted from the earliest printed edition of the
sonnet sequence, perhaps because it was too direct, but it was added in the official folio
edition.
38. When sleep comes upon Astrophel, he finally is able to release his rational thoughts and
revel in his imagination. He describes the abdication of Reason and its replacement by
"Fancie's errour." Love constructs a perfect vision of Stella for Astrophel, a vision that both
shines and sings. Yet, he is unable to maintain the vision and wakes up, hearing his own
wailing rather than the singing of her image. When he tries to call Sleep again and regain
Stella's image, he fails: Stella has "killed" Sleep with her beauty.

Analysis: Sleep offers Astrophel a type of release that he cannot obtain in his waking hours.
It shields the lover from despair at Stella's seeming scorn. Most importantly, sleep allows
Astrophel to see Stella's image in his mind. The vision of Stella provides one of the few
moments when Astrophel is able to see her without being plagued with uncertainty and
anxiety. The vision of Stella's beauty is so brilliant that it cannot be maintained, which leads
to the broken rhythms of Astrophel's: "I start, look, hearke." Sidney keeps with the tone of the
rest of the sonnet sequence by ensuring that visions of Stella are brilliant and fleeting.
39. Sidney personifies sleep and begins to have a conversation with it. He prays that Sleep
will come and release him from his current misery. Only when he is asleep is he able to ease
his suffering and stem the civil war that is waging between his heart and his head, between
his love and his reason. He wonders what price he must pay in order to convince the god of
Sleep to come to him, and he promises a "good tribute." Smooth pillows, a comfortable bed,
and a dark, quiet room are all that he desires, if only he can persuade Sleep to come. Finally,
Sidney comes up with a way to convince Sleep to come to him. When he is asleep, he argues,
the image of Stella will appear in his dreams, and Sleep will be able to watch. This is the
greatest tribute that he can pay.

Analysis: This is an example of a sonnet in which Sidney's persona talks to an entity other
than Stella. In addition to "Sleep," Sidney also directs his speeches to the allegorical
"Reason," "Love," "Queen Virtue," "Patience," "Desire," and more. In literature and rhetoric,
this act of addressing something that is not a person is referred to as "apostrophe." The irony
in this sonnet is very interesting. Sidney begs for Sleep to come and rescue him from his love
and suffering for Stella. Yet, at the same time, an image of Stella will automatically come to
his head while he is asleep. Whether he is asleep or awake, Stella is always in his mind. He
prefers the Stella in his dreams because he does not have to face the reality that she is not his
own.
40. Astrophel tells Stella that he has built a temple for her in his heart. He begs her to give a
single thought to him and his suffering because he has sought her grace for such a long time.
He then brings up the imagery of a battle, declaring that she has conquered his heart. But, as a
good conqueror, she should want her new conquest to be destroyed now that she owns it.
Astrophel urges Stella to give him some grace and save her temple in his heart from
destruction.

Analysis: For the first time in the sonnet sequence, Astrophel appeals directly to Stella in
intimate terms. She is no longer a remote figure of desire; she is actually approachable (if still
on the throne of virtue). And even though he suffers, he knows that it is better to write poetry
to her than to lie down and moan in despair. He hopes that the offering of his poetry will
touch her heart.
41. Astrophel describes his success at a tournament in front of the court. His horsemanship
and strength allowed him to attain the prize of the event, judged by members of the English
court and members of the French court. Onlookers praised his skill as the result of constant
practice, while others claimed that it was simply good luck. Yet, Astrophel knows that the
real reason for his success was that Stella was watching him.

Analysis: The tournament that Astrophel refers to could be a tournament held at court in May
1581 when members of the French court were visiting England. Because Sidney was against
Queen Elizabeth's proposed marriage with the Duc of Alençon, his victory in the
tournament would have been particularly satisfying, impressing Stella as well as the French
visitors. Sonnet 53 serves as a foil to Astrophel's tournament success in this sonnet and
displays the negative impact of Stella's presence.
42. Astrophel praises the beauty and power of Stella's eyes. Her glances allow Love to
conquer those around her while she simultaneously conquers Love himself. Whenever he
sees her eyes, Astrophel forgets to nourish his own weary spirits, but he does not care. He
wishes, above all, to always have her eyes shining as a zenith above him. And if he dies, it
will be a triumph for Love, who caused it.
Analysis: Astrophel has no prospect of release from his love for Stella. Yet, even as the
beauty of her eyes eats him away within, he still would rather have her presence close to him,
even if it means his death.
43. Astrophel begins the sonnet with resignation, admitting that it is foolish of him to believe
that he could have Cupid win Stella's heart. Love enjoys Stella's beautiful qualities himself,
using them to make other people fall in love. When he uses her eyes, every man willingly
asks permission to die for Stella. When Love uses her lips, he means to play, kissing her lips
himself or making them blush red. When Cupid wants to be alone, however, he retreats into
Stella's heart, where no man is found.

Analysis: Following the theme of the previous sonnet, Astrophel continues to focus on two
features of Stella's face: her lips and her eyes. Cupid uses each of these features for his own
amusement and to project love throughout the world. Astrophel renews his anxieties about
Stella's untouchable heart, reiterating that the only place where Cupid can be alone is in
Stella's heart.
44. Astrophel cannot understand why Stella is not sympathetic to his suffering for her. He
argues that his pain yields the right to receive pity from any heart, especially hers. But no
matter what he says, Stella refuses to give him pity and, in fact, becomes more annoyed with
him the more he complains. Astrophel attempts to explain this conflict in her behavior, and
finally he arrives at the conclusion. When his bitter complaints touch the "dainty doors" (her
eyes) and reach the "courts of bliss" (her mind), they immediately turn into joyful music.

Analysis: Astrophel employs a complicated metaphor in order to explain Stella's coldness.

Because he has presented her throughout the sonnet as kind and compassionate, her lack of
pity for his suffering is very disconcerting. The only explanation that he can come up with is
that Stella simply cannot hear his complaints. The beauty of her mind is such that it
transforms any negative thoughts into beautiful music, so she fails to comprehend what
Astrophel is actually saying to her.
45. In the first eight lines, the sonnet describes Stella's behavior. She scorns him and his
suffering, but then she is filled with pity upon hearing a fable of two lovers. Even though the
fable is fiction and Astrophel's suffering is real, Stella does not see fit to give him any
sympathy. In the last six lines, Astrophel implores her pity. He begs her to pretend that he is
also a fictitious fable so that at least she can pity the "tale of him."

Analysis: This sonnet expresses the gap between Astrophel as a poet and Astrophel as a
lover. Rather than responding to her lover's suffering, Stella responds to tales of love. As a
result, the world of love that Astrophel hopes to describe is reduced to nothing more than
courtly mannerism and affectation. Astrophel is very critical of Stella's behavior, even though
the elegance of the narrative in the poem is meant to obscure his scorn and sense of irony.
46. Astrophel once cursed Cupid, but now he feels pity for him. He and Cupid are both under
Stella's control, but Cupid is even worse off. Stella tyrannizes him so much that Cupid must
be in need of food and a place to live. She threatens to banish him forever from her presence,
which would make Love nothing more than a homeless, despicable vagabond. Cupid is
nothing more than a pupil to a stern schoolmistress and is about to be punished for missing
his lessons. Astrophel intervenes on Cupid's behalf.

Analysis: Astrophel and Love are no longer at odds with one another; they are comrades
suffering from the same torments at Stella's hands. In previous sonnets, Astrophel emphasizes
that Love believed that he was in control of Stella, but now he has learned that he is just as
much a slave as Astrophel is.
47. Astrophel begins the sonnet with a series of questions about his love for Stella. He asks
himself how he could have enslaved himself to a woman who does not have any compassion
for his suffering. He determines that he will not love her anymore and convinces himself with
the assertion that beauty is only beauty, fleeting and superficial. Even as Astrophel has
decided to free himself from the yoke of Love, he sees Stella in the distance and immediately
changes his mind.

Analysis: Astrophel's anger and frustration is clear from the vehement questions he asks in
the opening lines of the sonnet. He realizes that he does not deserve such treatment, that he is
not a slave. The rhythm of the progression "I may, I must, I can, I will, I do" mirrors
Astrophel's physical struggle to free himself from his chains of slavery. Yet, once again,
Astrophel is unable to escape from his love for her. Even as he says that he does not love her,
the sight of Stella makes him recognize that he is lying to himself.
48. Astrophel begs Stella not to direct her eyes ("morning stars") away from his sight. If he
does not look at the light of her eyes, he is driven toward the darkness of Hell. Stella's eyes
are the cause of his torment and continue to inflict incurable wounds with the darts of her
glances. But Astrophel still would rather see her eyes, even as they wound him, than stay in
the darkness. Moreover, he is already dying from the wounds of Love, so her continued
glances will be a sort of kindness that will kill him more quickly.

Analysis: Astrophel refers to the Renaissance poetic tradition of a lover being killed by his
mistress's glances. This also has additional meaning because Astrophel frequently discusses
Cupid's presence in Stella's eyes. So, not only do Stella's eyes emit their own darts, but Cupid
also shoots his arrows through her eyes. Astrophel asks for a sort of mercy killing at Stella's
hands, begging her to continue to look at him because it will make his death easier.
49. Astrophel tries his horsemanship on his horse, and Cupid tries his on Astrophel. As
Love's horse, Astrophel is saddled and bridled so that he will behave. The reins that guide his
movements are humbled thoughts; his bit is made up of Reverence and Fear. Cupid's riding
crop is Will, and Astrophel's own imagination and memory form the saddle. The only spur
that Astrophel needs to be inspired to move forward is Desire.

Analysis: Astrophel uses an interesting layering effect with this metaphor; he is the horseman
of his horse while Cupid is the horseman of him. Each element of Love's horsemanship
mirrors Astrophel's own control over his horse, from the bit and reins to the saddle and spurs.
Traditionally (going at least as far back as Plato), the relationship between the passions and
Reason has been compared with the relationship between a horse and its rider, either with
Reason keeping the passions in check with a firm hand, or with the horseman trying to drive
with both the horse of Reason and the horse of Passion, each sometimes going its own way.
The fact that Astrophel is being ridden by Love rather than Reason emphasizes the negative
effect of his love for Stella.
50. Astrophel struggles with his emotions, and he is unable to keep them inside. His thoughts
for Stella break free and form the poems making up the sonnet sequence. Yet, as Astrophel
views his poems, he is filled with disappointment because the poems do not do justice to the
beauty of Stella in her true form. He would like to scratch out the lines in his fury, but he is
unable to do so because their first line begins with Stella's name.

Analysis: Astrophel's poetry is incapable of fully expressing his thoughts about Stella. As a
poet, Astrophel fails because he cannot depict Stella as she truly is in his heart and mind. Yet,
his love for her is so great that he cannot even destroy the inadequate poems that he writes,
simply because they are about her.
Astrophil and Stella Summary and Analysis of Sonnets 51-75
51. In Astrophel's opinion, Stella's conversation should be reserved for those people who
need to be entertained. He asks her to find someone else to amuse with her tales of court
intrigues. Comparing himself to Atlas, who holds the weight of the skies, Astrophel cannot
bear to hear such flippant conversation from her. His heart is in communion with Stella's eyes
and, in comparison with that connection, any superficial conversation is unnecessary.
Analysis: This sonnet is both an expression of Astrophel's transcendent connection with
Stella and a criticism of courtly mannerisms. Stella attempts to amuse people with her witty
conversation and court gossip, but Astrophel does not have any need for this entertainment.
He considers himself to be connected to Stella on a much deeper level, and her attempts to
speak to him as a gossipy courtier are highly offensive to him.
52. A legal dispute has arisen between Virtue and Love, with each claiming that Stella
belongs to him. Love argues that Stella's lips and eyes prove his ownership because they wear
his badge of livery. Virtue counters by arguing that Stella is wholly virtuous in her soul.
Although Love may lay claim to her exterior beauty, Virtue owns her inner beauty, which is
what actually stirs people's hearts. Astrophel then intervenes in the dispute, declaring that
Virtue can have Stella's inner soul as long as he and Love can have her body.

Analysis: This sonnet contains clear evidence of Astrophel's physical desire for Stella. The
explicit sexuality in the lines undercuts Astrophel's expression of virtue and chastity in
previous sonnets in the sequence. Astrophel is willing to sacrifice Stella's inner beauty to the
call of Virtue, presuming it is possible, as long as he can still desire and possible possess her
physical body.
53. Astrophel fights in a tournament in front of the court, and the cheers of the onlookers fill
him with pride. Angry at seeing Astrophel in the armor of Mars, the god of war, Cupid is
determined to remind Astrophel that Love is his master. He orders Astrophel to look at Stella.
When Astrophel looks at her, her light dazzles him. He is so distracted that he does not hear
the trumpet of the tournament or his opponent begin to charge. Only after he is defeated and
he sees Stella's blush does Astrophel realize that he has been shamed by Love.

Analysis: Stella has the opposite effect on Astrophel in this tournament, compared with her
effect in Sonnet 43. In this case, Cupid takes revenge on Astrophel for behaving as a slave to
War rather than Love, and for taking part in the warlike tournament. Instead of inspiring him
as in Sonnet 43, Stella's light serves solely to distract Astrophel from the task at hand. By
shaming Astrophel in front of Stella and making her look on him with disdain, however,
Love undermines himself.
54. Astrophel faces criticism by the "courtly Nymphs" who dominate the world of love. They
claim that he cannot truly love Stella because he does not adhere to the artificial
demonstrations of love: he does not breathe love to everyone or cherish a lock of his lover's
hair or groan with suffering. Astrophel replies that his love for Stella is proven more by his
silence, and the truth of his love is clear to those who look in his heart. In the end, the people
who are the most hesitant to admit that they love are the ones who love the most.

Analysis: In order to define his own love, Astrophel provides examples of how courtly love
has become nothing more than affectation. The traditional language of love is nothing more
than a kind of elegant chatter in high society; it does not mean anything real. This criticism
can be read as proof of Sidney's dissatisfaction with standard conventions of love poetry,
specifically the Petrarchan style. In the end, it is the poet's awkwardness and hesitation that
proves his love, rather than his elegant Petrarchan love poetry (although the sonnets betray
Sidney's real poetic versatility).
55. Astrophel directs this sonnet to the nine Muses. He often invoked the Muses for help in
writing his poetry, hoping that their skill might win him some grace from Stella. He would
not use certain sad words or phrases until the Muses inspired him. Only then would he
construct them in the most eloquent way to express his suffering. He has decided, however,
that he is no longer going to look to the Muses for help with his poetry. The only solution,
Astrophel argues, is to cry Stella's name. Her name is all the eloquence he needs.

Analysis: Sidney also incorporates this theme in Sonnets 3 and 6. The Muses may be the
source of inspiration for other poets and artists, as they were for Astrophel at an earlier time,
but they are no longer sufficient for Astrophel's needs. Again, he does not need any Muse but
Stella to inspire him.
56. Astrophel criticizes the school of Patience for being too difficult to learn without a book.
He attempted to be patient and to try to learn virtue through Stella's absence. But even now,
all that he desires is a glimpse of Stella. He scorns Patience for trying to make him into a
cold, stolid character, free from any passion. Astrophel ends the sonnet by making a bargain
with Patience. If Patience will bring Stella to him and give her the patience to hear his
confession of love, Astrophel will promise to be patient in bearing his love for her.

Analysis: Astrophel personifies Patience as a figure who attempts (but fails) to teach him
patience. Astrophel scorns Patience because being patient involves not seeing Stella, which is
something that is unacceptable to him. In the end, he refuses to be patient until Stella shows
him some patience in return, namely, patience and acceptance for his love.
57. Astrophel wrote a poem for Stella that contained all of his most pitiful complaints and
anguish for love of her. He hoped that the poem would catch Stella unawares so that she
would not have time to guard herself from feeling pity. When Astrophel gave Stella the
poem, she not only read it but also sang it aloud as a song. The beauty of her song affected
Astrophel so much that he no longer suffered. His pains of love transformed into joy at the
sweetness of her voice.

Analysis: The sonnet starts out as a sort of revenge narrative. Astrophel is determined to pain
Stella with his anguish, and he wants to use the most powerful words of Woe to pierce her
skin. But as soon as Stella receives the poem and then sings it, Astrophel's desire for
vengeance dissipates. Her reaction to his poetry temporarily removes his suffering, and
Astrophel suffers from short-term amnesia regarding his pains.
58. Astrophel introduces the debate over whether rhetoric is effective because of the words
themselves or because of the way that the words are delivered. He employs an example from
his personal life to prove his opinion. He wrote all of his woes and suffering into "piercing
phrases" of poetry and then gave the poem to Stella. When Stella read the poem aloud, the
sadness of the words was overshadowed by the delight Astrophel felt during Stella's delivery.

Analysis: In this case, Astrophel demonstrates his belief that the delivery of a poem is far
more powerful than the words themselves. Through her delivery, Stella is able to transform a
bitter, sad poem into a source of incredible delight for Astrophel. He asserts that it is only her
"sweet breath" which causes this transformation. It seems that rhetoric also is effective when
it has the right audience!
59. Half-mockingly, Astrophel asks Stella why she prefers her dog to him. He possesses all of
the same qualities that the dog has and, in fact, would go further with each quality. While the
dog loves, Astrophel burns with love. Though the dog may wait well, Astrophel will wait
forever, never moving again. The dog may fetch a glove for her, but Astrophel will fetch his
very soul to give to her. Yet, despite Astrophel's superiority, Stella still prefers the dog and
allows him to sit in her lap and kiss her lips. Astrophel declares that if he were allowed to kiss
her lips even once, he would abandon his wit.

Analysis: The sonnet is made up of a series of possible causes, each rejected in turn because
Astrophel believes he possesses the virtue to a superior degree than Stella's pet dog. In the
end, however, the only real difference between Astrophel and Stella's dog is wit. The entire
sonnet is itself a logical demonstration of Astrophel's wit. Even as he assures Stella that he
would gladly give up his wit for her, he reminds her (and the readers) that his wit is
responsible for the humor and persuasive power of the poem; the offer is double-edged.
60. Astrophel explains why he is beginning to despair. Whenever Cupid leads him to see his
love, Stella shows disdain and scorn for him. Still, whenever Astrophel disappears from
Stella's view, Stella speaks of him with pity and compassion. Astrophel is unable to cope with
this constant shift between Stella's love and Stella's hate.

Analysis: This sonnet is made up of a series of contradictions and ironies. When Astrophel is
present, Stella scorns him; when he is absent, she pities his case. Yet, he is never able to
combine the two situations and enjoy Stella's compassion in person. The last line sums up the
irony of his circumstances: he can never enjoy the bliss of love without being reminded of the
curse of love.
61. Astrophel assails Stella with his different confessions of love, first with sighs, then with
tears, then with halting words, and finally with silence. Stella is not overwhelmed, and she
maintains a clear opposition to Astrophel's love. Because Stella hates Astrophel's passionate
love, Astrophel determines to rid himself of it. He asks Cupid for help to make him not love
Stella until he has her permission to love.

Analysis: In an ironic twist, Astrophel must rid himself of his love for Stella in order to be
worthy of her. She will appreciate only a chaste, controlled love, which Astrophel does not
possess. Despite all of his entreaties, she remains firm in this declaration, and Astrophel
concludes that the only solution is to remove the love for her in his heart.
62. Filled with violent passion for Stella, Astrophel calls Stella unkind. She rebuffs his
advances, declaring that he should look for virtuous true love in her and nothing more. Even
though she loves him, she will accept only a love that is noble and befitting her birth and
social station. Stella urges Astrophel to calm the tempests of his heart and accept a virtuous
love. Yet, he cannot rid himself of his passionate love, so he declares that he would rather she
did not love him if a chaste, virtuous love is the only kind she will offer.

Analysis: The sonnet questions the definition of love. Astrophel is forced to define love as
desire because, for him, his love for Stella has become increasingly violent and passionate.
Stella's vocabulary of love is socially more appropriate and belongs to the unimpassioned
public world. She refers to his love as the "tempests" of a stereotypical lover. Astrophel
finally acknowledges his "Love" for what it is: a fall from grace and a fall from virtue.
63. Astrophel opens the sonnet with an address to Grammar. He urges Grammar to use its
powers and wise precepts to help him win Stella. Above all else, Astrophel desires Stella, but
she continues to reject his advances. After another one of his attempts, Stella says twice: "no,
no," which finally allows Astrophel to use Grammar to his advantage. According to Latin
grammar rules, a double negative translates into an affirmative. Thus, Astrophel claims,
Stella's negative exclamation is actually an invitation.

Analysis: Astrophel attempts to use grammar rules and wordplay to convince Stella to
acquiesce to his desires. Or, perhaps, he is attempting to justify his lustful behavior. If Stella
continues to deny him, he will never be able to gain his desire. If he does, despite her wishes,
it would count as a rape. Yet, if Stella gives Astrophel an affirmative response (even if it is
through a misapplied grammatical rule), then a sexual encounter would not be a rape.
Astrophel is using all the tricks and tools at his disposal.
64. In a series of violent oaths, Astrophel describes everything that has to be given up for
Stella: achievement, social position, approval among wise men, scholarly intelligence, fame,
and more. But he does not regret these lost things-neither Aristotle's intelligence nor Caesar's
fame. Above all, Stella makes up for everything that he loses. She is both his intelligence and
his virtue.

Analysis: This sonnet is made up of a pattern of repeated vows and exclamations. The
insistence and violence of the first thirteen lines accumulate strength for the forceful
declaration in the last line. Astrophel insists that Stella possesses more than physical beauty.
Her earthly beauty is only a shadow of the virtue and true knowledge that a man can attain
through the love of her.
65. Astrophel criticizes Love's behavior. When Love first came to England and was naked
and isolated in the world, Astrophel allowed him to lodge in his heart. Astrophel gave Love
his eyes to see the world, as well as his light, his heart, and even his life. Love refuses to pay
Astrophel back in kind and does not respond to Astrophel's cries of love for Stella. At the
same time, Astrophel admits that he and Love have developed a sort of kinship, in which
Love carries the arrow and Astrophel carries the arrowhead.

Analysis: Astrophel feels as if he has been cheated by Love. He provided Cupid with a home
and his favor, but Love has failed to respond to his suffering for Stella. In a sense, Astrophel
has constructed a contract with Love (similar to the deal that he attempts to make with
Patience in Sonnet 56), yet Love has failed to uphold his end of the bargain. The last line of
the sonnet has a phallic connotation but also makes a reference to Sidney's family: the Sidney
coat of arms has an arrowhead at its center.
66. Astrophel wonders if it is possible that Stella might return his love. He is not sure if he is
simply imagining that what he desires is coming to pass. While Astrophel was gazing in a
different direction, Stella looked at him. When he turned around and their eyes met, she
instantly turned away with a blush. This brief moment of connection and Stella's blush are
sufficient to give Astrophel his first real hope since the sequence began.

Analysis: Astrophel has suffered with his love for Stella for so long that he is confused about
reality. He does not know if Stella's glance actually means something or if his imagination is
running wild with hope. This sonnet provides the first evidence that Stella might feel some
affection for him. Astrophel is not sure whether he should fear or rejoice.
67. Astrophel addresses Hope with a series of questions, attempting to determine if Stella's
glance was a sign of love or not. He asks if Stella has suddenly taken an interest in him. He
asks if Stella will seize this opportunity for love before it is too late. Then, he asks Hope if
there are any other elements of Stella's glance that he missed: was she blushing more than he
realized? Did she sigh for him in secret? Astrophel concludes that, no matter what the answer
is, he would accept this false hope rather than a more painful truth.

Analysis: Astrophel is anxious to know the truth behind Stella's loving glance of Sonnet 66.
Even as he hopes that she may love him, he wants to know the truth and asks Hope numerous
questions. By the end of the sonnet, however, he realizes that he does not actually want to
know the truth. The little hope that he has developed from Stella's look has given him such
pleasure that he prefers it, even if it is false.
68. Astrophel asks Stella how she expects to quench the fire of his desire for her. He
maintains that she is the sole reason for his passion. Her attempts to extinguish his passionate
love are ineffective because her presence continues to provoke Astrophel's desire. Astrophel
acknowledges that Stella's reasons are virtuous and that he should try to maintain a chaste
love. Yet, all he can think is how pleasurable it would be to enjoy such a virtuous woman.

Analysis: This sonnet describes the growing conflict between Astrophel's desire for Stella
and Stella's insistence on a pure, chaste love. Astrophel is unable to separate his love from his
desire. Even when Stella urges him to be virtuous and think of her in a virtuous way,
Astrophel cannot help but immediately think of her sexually.
69. Astrophel is filled with unspeakable joy, a joy too great to express in the words of his
poetry. He urges Envy to blind itself so that it cannot see his happiness, and he calls to his
friends so that he can tell them the good news. Stella has finally admitted her love for
Astrophel, and she gave him the monarchy of her heart. But this love has been given with a
clear condition: their love must be platonic.

Analysis: Astrophel is thrilled that Stella returns his love and that he can finally call her his
own. He barely notices the condition for her love at this point; he simply tacks it on to the last
line of the sonnet. Yet, Stella's insistence on a platonic relationship between the two will have
disastrous consequences. Because Astrophel's love for Stella has such a strong physical
element, Stella's condition will manifest itself as yet another form of torture.
70. Astrophel's Muse has been the inspiration for all of his sad and tormented sonnets. Now
that Astrophel is joyful, he anticipates that the Muse will want to inspire some joyful poetry.
Sadness can only be defined in terms of happiness and, like any other thing, the Muse has the
capacity to smile and laugh in Astrophel's poetry, just as she once wept and moaned.
Astrophel calls to his Muse to begin to write his happiness in a poem but then stops suddenly.
He realizes that the best expression of his joy would be to write nothing at all.

Analysis: Poking fun at himself, Astrophel acknowledges that all of his sonnets up to this
point were filled with despair and sadness. Now that he is finally happy, he is ready to write
joyful poetry and break up the monotony for his poetic Muse. Ironically, Astrophel ultimately
decides not to write any poetry to express his bliss. Perhaps his happiness is too great to be
translated in words. Or, perhaps, Astrophel can only be inspired to write poetry when he is
unhappy.
71. The first thirteen lines of the sonnet are public praise for Stella, beginning with the
metaphor of a book. The observer who "reads" Stella will understand the beauty and virtue of
the world. Moreover, the vices of the observer will be scattered by Stella's beauty. Just as the
light shining in Stella's eyes scares away night birds, her beauty and the power of reason can
force away vices. Not only does her beauty attract people, but also it persuades people to
become virtuous. In the last line, Astrophel suddenly shifts to a personal view of Stella and
his own guilt. Despite her beauty and virtue, he still urgently desires Stella and regrets his
position.

Analysis: For the first thirteen lines, the poem appears to be simply a series of praises of
Stella. Also, "reading" Stella once again takes love and intellectualizes it. Then, in the last
line, the poem changes tone completely, forcing the reader to re-evaluate Astrophel's meaning
and reconsider each of the lines that have come before. Two distinct types of love are set
against one another: one is dignified and confident; the other is spontaneous and passionate.
There are thirteen lines reflecting the first kind of love, but just one line of the other kind of
love is enough to undercut the rest of the poem. (This is a common trick among sonnets,
using the last line to undercut the rest.) Sidney shows the power of desire. No matter how
much Astrophel wants to adhere to a pure and unimpassioned love for Stella, he is
overwhelmed with desire.
72. Astrophel directs the sonnet to Desire, the emotion that has augmented his love for Stella
since the beginning of the sequence. He declares that, even though both love and desire fan
the flames of his heart, he has determined that he must give up Desire. Love flourishes
through chastity and virtue, and he now must accept virtue in all its forms. He will embrace
Service and Honor as Stella's gifts to him. Astrophel recognizes that he must give up Desire,
but ultimately he does not know how to do so.

Analysis: This sonnet evaluates the same conflict as in Sonnet 71, but its tone is markedly
different. Astrophel recognizes Desire as a loyal companion and his oldest friend. Sidney
addresses Desire as a person (it is apostrophe), demonstrating a great deal of reluctance in
banishing Desire. At the end, Astrophel is confused by his inability to go through with the
banishment. For the first time, Astrophel's relationship with Desire is recognized as a force to
be reckoned with.
73. Astrophel blames Love for the kiss he stole from Stella during Song 2. Astrophel explains
that Love is simply a young, mischievous boy who was unable to resist the temptation of
Stella's lips; that is, Astrophel himself is not to blame for what happened. Stella does not
respond well to Astrophel's explanation and remains incredibly angry about Astrophel's
behavior. Yet, even in her anger, Stella's face is so beautiful that Astrophel longs to kiss her
again.

Analysis: Faced with Stella's displeasure, Astrophel refuses to take responsibility for his
actions. He insists that Cupid has complete control over him and that, in fact, it was Love
who kissed Stella, not Astrophel who did so. The sonnet is presented as a sort of trial, with
Astrophel explaining his case in front of the two scarlet judges, Stella's lips. At the end of the
sonnet, it is clear that the kiss was Astrophel's own action, not Cupid's, because he
immediately wants to her kiss again.
74. Astrophel denies any contact with the Muses that might inspire him to write poetry. He
describes himself as nothing more than a "poor layman" who has no claim to the poetic
creativity of the Muses and lacks the motivation to plagiarize from another poet. Then how is
Astrophel still able to write successful poetry? At the end of the sonnet, Astrophel finally
explains that his sole inspiration is Stella's kiss.

Analysis: In this sonnet, Astrophel steps out of character to construct a witty reference to the
stolen kiss. This sonnet is widely considered to be the comic masterpiece of the sonnet
sequence because of Astrophel's tongue-in-cheek response and lack of remorse for the kiss.
(Compare Alexander Pope's later "The Rape of the Lock.")
75. Of all of the kings who have reigned in England, Astrophel presents King Edward IV as
the most worthy of his praise. He explains that this praise is not due to King Edward's
intelligence or because he won the throne after the War of the Roses. This praise is not even
due to the fact that King Edward successfully invaded France. King Edward IV is worthy of
praise because he sacrificed his crown for love.

Analysis: Astrophel refers to Edward IV's refusal to marry a French princess for the sake of
diplomacy. Instead, Edward married Elizabeth Grey in 1461, which led to a rebellion nine
years later and Edward's exile. Contemporary historians criticized Edward for allowing his
emotions to cloud his political judgment and threaten the wellbeing of the commonwealth.
For Astrophel, however, Edward's choice was noble and romantic, following Love.
Astrophil and Stella Summary and Analysis of Sonnets 76-100
76. Astrophel sees Stella coming toward him, and the shining light in her eyes dazzles him.
He compares her eyes to the sun, rising with the dawn and growing ever brighter. Stella's
eyes become so bright that they seem to be on fire and turn into the blazing noon sun.
Astrophel's heart burns with Stella's light, and he cannot cool it with shade or wind. He only
hopes that her eyes will burn less brightly at night, when he takes her to bed.
Analysis: Astrophel compares Stella's eyes to the sun. Like the sun, her eyes increase in
brightness and fire until the noon hour, at which point Astrophel is completely dazzled in
both heart and sight. Continuing with the theme of the sun's progression through the sky,
Astrophel concludes that the sun will be at its weakest in the nighttime hours. He hopes that
he will be able to take advantage of her beauty at night without being dazzled.
77. Astrophel lists many of Stella's beautiful qualities: her eyes, her face, her presence, her
grace, her hand, her lips, her skin, her words, and her voice. He acknowledges that he should
feel blessed with only the presence of these attributes. In fact, when Astrophel is in a steady
and virtuous state of mind, he does think only of these attributes. Most of the time, however,
Astrophel has extreme physical desire for the rest of Stella's attributes, which are too sexual
to be mentioned in the poem.

Analysis: The ending of this sonnet is similar to the endings of Sonnets 71 and 72. As in the
other two sonnets, here Astrophel expresses his continuing conflict between chaste love and
physical desire. His muse is too virginal to list the rest of Stella's qualities, although
Astrophel is thinking about them. This sonnet makes clear that Astrophel's appreciation
includes a salient sexual element.
78. Astrophel expresses his jealousy for Stella's husband, Lord Rich. Even though he is in
love with Stella, he cannot help but be swallowed by the "monster" of Jealousy. The
happiness of his love is marred by the fact that she is married to someone else. Astrophel
attempts to depict Stella's husband as a devil, but this devil lacks horns.

Analysis: By depicting Lord Rich as a devil, Astrophel attempts to present him as a cuckold,
corresponding to the tradition that horns were a sign of cuckoldry. Unfortunately, the devil
figure of Lord Rich is lacking horns; he has not actually been cuckolded, and certainly not so
by Astrophel. The absence of the horns indicates Astrophel's lack of success in fulfilling his
physical desire with Stella.
79. Astrophel revels in the memory of the kiss he stole from Stella. The kiss was so sweet
that he cannot hope to express its sweetness in poetry. He refers to the kiss as two coupling
doves, as a double key to the heart, and as a battle in which every touch of the lips both
wounds and heals. Astrophel continues to praise the kiss until he sees Stella in person. Then,
in a witty final line, he immediately stops praising and asks for another kiss.

Analysis: This sonnet demonstrates how Astrophel's desire for Stella remains unfulfilled.
Even after he has kissed her, Astrophel is not satisfied. When he is not in her presence,
Astrophel is able to praise the kiss as a romantic conclusion, using all of his poetic skill. As
soon as he sees her again, he forgets the pleasure of the kiss and only will be satisfied with
more.
80. Astrophel directs this sonnet to Stella's sweet lip, the lip that he cannot help but praise.
Astrophel incorporates a variety of praises for her mouth. He declares that Stella's lip emits
heavenly graces instead of words and that her lip is the new home of the nine Muses. Even
though his heart tries to persuade his own mouth to create more poetry, Astrophel is
unwilling to give Stella simple flattery because it does not do her justice; he can no longer tell
a lie. Astrophel concludes that the kiss taught his mouth to be as virtuous as Stella's own lip.
Analysis: Astrophel refers to the idea that a kiss can help a lover transcend his reality to
reach a higher plane. In this case, Stella's lip influences Astrophel's mouth to make it more
virtuous. Even though Astrophel wants to keep praising Stella's lip, he realizes that none of
his poetry is worthy of her. Instead of lying about his ability and continuing to write,
Astrophel tells Stella the truth: her virtue has been transferred to him temporarily through her
kiss.
81. Astrophel continues to dwell on his kiss with Stella, praising it as much as he can. In this
sonnet, he reveals that Stella wants "higher seated praise." His compliments of her beauty are
not the compliments of virtue, she maintains with a blush. Astrophel makes a bargain with
her, declaring that if she objects to his kiss-inspired poetry, she should "stop" his mouth with
more kisses.

Analysis: Stella attempts to keep the higher ground in this situation, informing Astrophel that
his praise for her kiss is inappropriate. Giddy with happiness, Astrophel once again
incorporates his bargaining technique. In a witty twist, he promises that he will only stop
praising her kisses with his mouth if she literally stops his mouth with more kisses.
Unfortunately, Stella will not agree.
82. Astrophel pleads with Stella to kiss him again. He describes her lips as the beautiful
cherry tree in the garden that is her body, and he begs her not to banish him from tasting the
fruit. He refers to his previous kiss as a hungry bite of a cherry and apologizes for his fault.
Finally, Astrophel swears that if she allows him access to her cherry tree, he promises that he
will only kiss and never bite.

Analysis: After Stella's refusal to comply with his bargain in Sonnet 81, Astrophel tries a
different method. He praises her mouth and physical beauty with references to figures in
classical mythology, including Narcissus, who fell in love with his reflection in the water,
and Venus, who appeared naked to Paris. Astrophel apologizes for the kiss he stole from
Stella, explaining it as the bite of a starving man. Then, he tries to make yet another bargain
with a comedic twist, promising that he will never "bite" her again.
83. Astrophel criticizes the sparrow that has crept into Stella's favor with its sweet song.
Astrophel allowed the sparrow to spend time with Stella despite his jealousy because he did
not think that the sparrow would take advantage of him. But the sparrow has become
ambitious, chirping his song into Stella's ear and kissing her. Astrophel warns Philip that if he
does not exercise caution in his behavior with Stella, Astrophel will strangle him.

Analysis: This sonnet is similar to Sonnet 59, in which Astrophel complains that Stella
makes more of her dog than of him. In this sonnet, however, Astrophel talks to a sparrow
(Philip). The sparrow is actively pursuing Stella, not just enjoying her attention as a pet.
Astrophel feels threatened by Stella's enjoyment of the sparrow and warns Philip to retreat or
suffer a broken neck. The use of a sparrow in this sonnet is a reference to poet John Skelton's
mock elegy, "Philip Sparrow."
84. In this sonnet, Astrophel celebrates a journey to Stella's house. He addresses the
"Highway," the road leading to Stella's (Penelope's) estate and refers to the sound of horses'
feet adding a new rhythm to his poetry. He urges the Highway to lead him quickly to Stella
so that their hearts can safely meet. In gratitude for the Highway's fulfillment of its duty,
Astrophel wishes the road the greatest joy he can imagine: kissing Stella's feet for hundreds
of years.

Analysis: Astrophel is filled with joy at the anticipation of meeting Stella in her home. The
rhythm of the poem, with its reference to horses and trampling feet, demonstrates that
Astrophel is actually en route to his destination. He has a great deal of gratitude for the road
that is leading him to Stella, and he personifies the Highway into an entity that can be
recognized and thanked.
85. Astrophel finally reaches Stella's home. Before he enters the house to find Stella, he
reminds himself that he must not let his joy overwhelm him. In order to keep himself under
control in Stella's presence, he delegates a specific task to each of his body parts. His eyes
will look at Stella's physical beauty; his ears will listen to her sweet voice; his breath will
inhale her breath; his arms will hold her; and his lips will kiss her.

Analysis: Astrophel's love for Stella is so intense that he is unable to internalize her entire
presence at once. He has to divide his interactions with her into separate events for several
parts of his body. Only by doing this can Astrophel cope with her presence and ensure that
his joy at seeing her will not overwhelm him. This idea also distracts him from his anxiety. It
seems unlikely that his lips will fulfill their task of kissing her.
86. Stella suddenly looks upon Astrophel with a different emotion; she bestows upon him a
"change of looks." Astrophel does not understand what prompted the transformation, nor
does he know what this transformation means for his love. He asks Stella to treat him
sympathetically until he knows what fault he has committed. If his fault deserves a severe
punishment, Astrophel asks that the punishment come from a source other than her eyes,
which are the source of his love.

Analysis: This sonnet can be read as a premonition of Song 8, in which Stella finally and
irrevocably breaks off their relationship. Astrophel is not sure what has caused his lover's
change of looks, but he instantly recognizes that he is probably at fault. Even if he is
deserving of her anger and disdain, he still asks for a single favor: that his punishment will
not come from the eyes that he loves so much.
87. Astrophel is forced to leave Stella's side and give up any hope of a relationship with her.
As he leaves, he notices that Stella is equally affected by his departure. She weeps, sighs, and
speaks sad words to him. Astrophel is overjoyed by these signs of her love for him, even as
he experiences sorrow for her sadness. He still must leave her, but he cannot be angry.

Analysis: For the first time in the sequence, Astrophel describes the extent of Stella's love for
him. She is devastated by the prospect of losing him, even as she knows that she must reject
him to do her duty to her husband. Ironically, Astrophel is still easily manipulated by Stella's
influence. Even though he is angry at the rejection, the clear signs of her love for him are
enough to dissipate his anger and make him temporarily happy.
88. Astrophel criticizes Absence for attempting to separate him from Stella. Absence cannot
do anything to keep Astrophel from Stella because Stella is omnipresent in his mind and
heart. As soon as Absence obscures the light of Stella's physical being, Astrophel returns to
the image of Stella that sustained him before she fell in love with him. Before this absence,
his heart loved her and his eyes saw her. Now, both the visual and the emotional images of
Stella are tied together in his heart.

Analysis: Even though Astrophel cannot be in Stella's presence, he can retreat into his
memories of her. Astrophel even declares that his love for Stella is stronger because of his
absence. Instead of being two separate entities, his heart and his eyes are now connected
through the images of Stella in his mind.
89. Astrophel continues to lament Stella's absence in his life. Returning to the common theme
in the sonnet sequence of Stella's eyes as the sun, Astrophel bemoans the problem that he is
living in darkness. Without Stella, he does not have any day; he is living perpetually in night.
Moreover, his days are darker than his nights because he knows that he should have Stella's
bright eyes shining on him.
Analysis: Astrophel uses the sun theme in several other sonnets in the sequence. This is the
first time that he uses it in its negative form: Stella's absence translates into a day without
sun. The metaphor becomes even more extreme when Astrophel maintains that his days are
darker than his nights. Night already lacks the sun, so Stella's absence has an even deeper
impact.
90. Astrophel does not want Stella to think that he writes poetry for the sake of fame. He
wishes that he were not considered a poet, and he does not want to receive any praise for his
writing from anyone but Stella. All of his words are meant to describe her beauty, and Love
accompanies him in every poem that he writes. The only reason for his success is Stella.

Analysis: Astrophel reiterates the theme in the text that Stella is his only inspiration in
poetry. He would not want to be considered a poet, even on his gravestone, if he could avoid
it in any way. This sonnet mirrors Sidney's statement in "An Apology for Poetry" that poetry
is his "unelected vocation." Despite Astrophel's claim, Sidney knows that he has many
readers of his sonnets who can praise or blame him.
91. While Astrophel is separated from Stella, he experiences nothing but sorrow. He is cast
into a world without her light. Whenever he sees something that reminds him of her, he can
take joy in the small light that it brings him. Blonde hair, white hands, rosy cheeks, red lips,
and black eyes all bring Stella into his mind and give him pleasure. Astrophel ends the sonnet
by assuring Stella that he only loves these physical attributes in other women because he
loves them in her.

Analysis: Astrophel continues to compare Stella's presence to the sun. But this time, he
pushes the metaphor further. Even though Stella is gone, he can experience glimpses of her
light through objects that remind him of her. His memory serves as a sort of candlelight in the
darkness without her. Any reminder of her makes the darkness less grim. Her attributes are
transcendent and the model for beauty in others.
92. Astrophel asks one of his friends for news of Stella and is disappointed by his friend's
brief response that she is well. He asks why his friend gives him such scanty information
about his mistress. Are his words so expensive? Is he imitating the Spartans, known for their
clipped conversation? Is he hoping to spare Astrophel any more pain? Astrophel demands
that his friend tells him everything about Stella: whether she sat or walked, what she wore, if
she smiled, if she sighed, and so forth. The most important question comes at the end, when
Astrophel asks if Stella mentioned his name.

Analysis: Astrophel presents this sonnet as a comic piece, but there is a clear sense of
Astrophel's underlying desperation. He is completely cut off from Stella, and he has no way
of receiving news of her except through his friends. In this sonnet, the friend's brief reply is
completely dissatisfying, and he wonders if the friend knows something about Stella that he
does not. Above all, Astrophel fears that Stella has forgotten him.
93. Astrophel confesses to having harmed Stella in some way. At the start of the sonnet, he
can only give utterances to his despair and wonder if he can ever find ink black enough to
write his grief. Astrophel attempts to make excuses for his action, citing his confusion and
carelessness, but he quickly casts aside his attempt. He has hurt Stella, and he can never
forgive himself for the pain he has caused her.

Analysis: Astrophel does not tell the reader what he has done to hurt Stella. Primary sources
from Sidney's biography also fail to illuminate the mystery. By not telling us what he has
done to Stella, Astrophel allows the events to be created by our imagination. Was it a fight, a
rape, an argument with Lord Rich? Is it that kiss from before? The only thing that is apparent
is that Astrophel has done something unforgivable.
94. Astrophel addresses Grief, the only figure who can serve as companion to him in his pain.
He begs Grief to find the words to express his anguish in the poem because Astrophel is
unable to form the words himself. He also asks Grief to complain and wail for his
wretchedness because he is unable to do it. Astrophel concludes that, though Grief is defined
by unhappiness, it will become even unhappier through Astrophel's personal grief.

Analysis: This sonnet (along with the next six sonnets) corresponds directly to the unknown
action of Sonnet 93. Astrophel cannot forgive himself for his action, so each of these sonnets
is somber and melancholy in order to reflect his mood.
95. Astrophel is grateful for his sighs because they are his only loyal companions. After
Stella's rejection, Astrophel remembers that Joy was cowardly-and Hope instantly yielded.
Delight abandoned him, and even Sorrow failed him, destroying his tears because they
formed out of love for Stella. Of all of his former companions, Astrophel's sighs are the only
ones that remain.

Analysis: This poem serves as a response to the previous poem. Joy, Delight, and Hope, all
of the emotions associated with his love for Stella, immediately withdrew at the first sign of
trouble. His sighs are the only constant in his emotional world; they stood by him as he wrote
poetry before Stella fell in love with him, and they remain his friends after Stella's rejection.
96. Astrophel's thoughts are preoccupied with the night because of their similarities. First of
all, the night is always black, whether through Nature or through chance. Second, the night is
barred from the sun, mirroring Astrophel's banishment from Stella. Both the night and
Astrophel's thoughts are silent and heavy, full of doubts, and filled with the moisture of dew
or tears. Yet, Astrophel admits that the night is still better than his thoughts because the night
leads to sleep, while his thoughts never allow any rest.

Analysis: Astrophel takes the metaphor of Stella as the sun and again inverts it so that he is
talking about the night and Stella's absence. The dark night and Astrophel's dark thoughts
have many things in common. Yet, Astrophel's thoughts are still darker than the night
because they do not allow him to sleep. This is in clear contradiction to Astrophel's former
view of Stella's image in his mind. Even if Stella's image is still present, Astrophel's thoughts
have grown so dark that they are darker than the night.
97. Diana, the goddess of the moon (or in this case, the personification of the moon), desires
to cheer up Night. In order to give him joy, she shows herself in the full phase of the moon
and orders the stars around her to shine. But Night is in love with the light of the sun and
cannot escape from depression. Remaining silent and sad, Night blocks out the light of the
stars with clothes of mourning. The sun could bring joy to Night just as Stella could bring joy
to Astrophel, but Astrophel knows that it can never be.

Analysis: Astrophel compares himself to a personification of Night. Like Night, Astrophel is

somber and depressed, anxious for a joyful sun that will never come. Despite the best efforts
of the moon and the stars (and references to classical mythology), nothing can cheer up the
Night except for the sun. Yet, as Astrophel knows, the sun can never belong to the night; they
must always be divided.
98. Astrophel is unable to sleep at night. While other creatures can rest in their beds, he can
only toss and turn in his, thinking of Stella. When the dawn comes, Astrophel is finally able
to close his eyes, but only out of spite that the world has its sun while he does not have Stella.

Analysis: This sonnet corresponds to Sonnets 32, 38, and 39, in which Astrophel discusses
sleep and the god of dreams. Stella's rejection has completely transformed Astrophel's
perception of sleep. Before, he was anxious to fall asleep so that he could see the image of
her in his dreams. Now, Astrophel is only able to close his eyes at the sight of the sun
because it reminds him too much of her.
99. When night convinces every other person to fall asleep, Astrophel stays awake. He looks
at the shapes of the darkness and then retreats to his own mind to see the image of Stella. As
the sun rises, Astrophel immediately falls asleep, closing his eyes under a "tomb of lids." He
is ashamed to stay awake to see the brightness of the sun when his mind maintains its
darkness.

Analysis: As in the previous sonnet, the theme of this sonnet corresponds to Sonnets 32, 38,
and 39. Astrophel feels the most comfort in the darkness of the night because it mirrors the
shadows in his mind. As soon as he sees the sun, he is reminded of Stella, and he cannot bear
to keep his eyes open.
100. Astrophel describes the elements of Stella's grief. Her tears are the rain from Beauty's
skies, and her sighs are soft breezes that cool the hell in Astrophel's soul. Stella's complaints
are so beautiful that Eloquence itself is envious of her words. Astrophel declares that all of
these signs of Stella's sorrow give him joy because they mean that she still loves him.

Analysis: Astrophel expresses Stella's grief in the same romantic terms that he used to
describe her beauty throughout the sonnet sequence. In a clear shift from his previous
emotions, Astrophel no longer feels sadness when Stella shows sorrow. Instead, he is filled
with joy because of the implications of her unhappiness, if it is true that she loves him after
all.

Astrophil and Stella Summary and Analysis of Sonnets 101-108 and Songs 1-11
101. Astrophel expresses concern over a sickness that has sent Stella to bed. As a result of
Stella's illness, Grace, Beauty, and Sweetness are equally sick. Her illness is not fatal, but
Love and Nature both strive to assuage it as quickly as possible. Nature, in particular, is
concerned because she realizes that she will never be able to create such physical beauty in
another human.
Analysis: Stella's sickness leads Astrophel to reevaluate his feelings of despair and torment.
For the first time in several sonnets, his tone is more optimistic, and he is no longer
preoccupied with the unforgivable action of Sonnet 93.
102. Astrophel opens the sonnet by wondering where Stella's rosy cheeks have gone. He uses
the first eight lines of the sonnet to describe Stella's cheeks in a series of metaphors and
repeating his original question. The doctors who attended Stella during her illness claim that
the absence is due solely to her weakness. Astrophel disagrees; he believes that her cheeks
are pale because Love has cleared them for a renewal of love.

Analysis: Astrophel shows signs of delusion (once again) about Stella's feelings for him.
Stella's sickness removes the healthy glow from her cheeks, but Astrophel assumes that it
must be a sign of love. The paleness of her cheeks demonstrates that she is prepared to accept
his love again. As the final sonnets of the sequence will show, Astrophel is mistaken in this
belief.
103. Astrophel remembers his joy at seeing Stella in a boat in the Thames River. The river
itself reflected his happiness with Stella on its surface. The winds would twine themselves in
Stella's golden hair until she blushed with their enthusiasm. At the sight of her blush,
Astrophel exclaims that such a beautiful sign of disgrace and embarrassment surpasses
Honor's beauty.
Analysis: Astrophel has regained his hopeful mood about Stella's emotions for him. He
recalls seeing her on the Thames and revels in the memory of her blush. This sonnet is paired
with the previous sonnet because of the emphasis on cheeks and blushing.
104. Astrophel criticizes the members of the court for gossiping about his love for Stella.
They watch him carefully, hoping to catch his words of love or affectionate glances.
Astrophel is angry at their behavior; he is already unhappy because of Stella's absence and
their gossip only adds to his depression. The courtiers interpret his actions and finally
conclude that he must still be in love with Stella. Astrophel vehemently replies that they have
not made a great discovery-his love for Stella is obvious.

Analysis: This sonnet is similar to Sonnet 27, Sonnet 28, and, in particular, Sonnet 54. The
members of the court become involved in the affair after the affair has already ended.
Astrophel has been in love with Stella the entire time, and he feels that his emotions must be
apparent to the entire world. The excitement of the courtiers at their supposed "discovery"
only angers him more.
105. Astrophel laments that his eyes (as "dead glass") are unable to see Stella, even as her
image remains clear in his heart. He maintains that it was not his fault that he fell in love with
her and was blinded to everything else. He urges his eyes to stop crying because they are not
at fault for her absence. He ends the sonnet with a series of curses, ultimately cursing the
coachman who curses him with Stella's absence.

Analysis: Now that he has been finally rejected in Song 11, Astrophel refuses to take the
blame for falling in love with Stella. He weeps for her, but he tries to convince himself that
he did nothing wrong. In the violent last four lines, Astrophel swiftly turns and begins to
blame those around him, cursing them for the curse he experiences.
106. Astrophel complains that his hope has betrayed him. He had hoped that Stella would
appear in this spot, "this orphan place," but she is absent. With Stella's rejection, Hope has
disappeared. As much as he would like to search for Hope, Astrophel must accept that he can
no longer find it. He decides to try to distract himself by conversing with the beautiful
women around him.

Analysis: Hope, the force that has been omnipresent throughout the sonnet sequence, is
finally gone, never to return. Astrophel misses the comfort of his former Hope, even though
he knows that any hope in Stella is lost. His only solution is to try to distract himself and
create new thoughts from the new women he meets.
107. Astrophel addresses Stella as his queen and ruler. Even though he is no longer her
servant, Astrophel still wishes to serve her. He begs her to order him to dismiss his wit until it
can produce something that corresponds to her desire that he no longer love her.

Analysis: Astrophel is still unable to control his emotions and thoughts. Although he now
acknowledges that the relationship with Stella is over, he still considers her to be his queen
and himself to be her servant. The only solution that he can admit is that Stella must take
control of his thoughts. As his ruler, she must order him to stop loving her or else he will
never be able to do it.
108. Whenever Astrophel's sorrow is melted away, he immediately begins to think of Stella
again. His heart opens and is filled with her light. Yet, before Astrophel can reach out to her,
Despair takes a hold of Astrophel's delight and destroys it; it cannot reach her. Astrophel
returns to the darkness of his existence without Stella's sun, thinking only of the irony that he
still must take joy in the thought of her.
Analysis: Astrophel invokes the idea of a forge and metalworking in this final sonnet. The
fires of his suffering are so great that they can melt away his sorrow and allow him to be
hopeful again. The image of Stella that appears in his heart is enough to spur his soul into
flight. Despair swiftly crushes the flight, clipping Astrophel's wings, but the cycle will
continue to repeat. Still, Astrophel will not be completely unhappy; he still experiences some
joy in his woes for Stella.

Songs
In Song 1 Astrophel praises Stella, declaring that his music will always begin and end with
her. In Song 2, Astrophel manages to kiss Stella while she is sleeping. Song 3 is a laudation
of the power of music. Song 4 describes a dialogue between Astrophel and Stella in which
she rejects his passionate advances. In Song 5, Astrophel vilifies Stella for her "change of
looks" and retaliates with a series of insults. In Song 6, Astrophel describes a debate between
Beauty (Stella) and Music (himself). Song 7 reiterates the words of reason that Astrophel
ignored throughout the sonnet sequence. In Song 8, Stella admits that she loves Astrophel,
but she must deny him because of her marriage. In Song 9, Astrophel laments that Stella
refused him. Song 10 describes Astrophel's ardent desire to see Stella again. In Song 11,
Astrophel goes to Stella's home and serenades her in one last effort to win her heart. Stella
finally and indisputably dismisses Astrophel.

Analysis: Each of the eleven songs has an important role in perpetuating the plot of the
sonnet sequence. That is, they should not be read all at once but in the context of the relevant
sonnets (some are described in the sonnet analyses as they come up). Song 2, Song 8, and
Song 11 are particularly important in terms of the plot. The stolen kiss in Song 2 is the closest
Astrophel ever gets to the manifestation of his physical desire for Stella. The kiss itself
inspires several sonnets as Astrophel replays the moment in his imagination. Song 8 is the
beginning of the end in their relationship; Stella admits that she loves Astrophel, but she is
too concerned with her honor and reputation to leave her husband for him. Song 11 was set to
music by Thomas Morley in The First Book of Airs (1600) and became the most popular of
the eleven songs. Stella finally dismisses Astrophel for good, destroying any of his hope for a
future relationship. Nevertheless, the sequence ends on a hopeful note. Even though
Astrophel is unhappy, his quest for Stella has resulted in a sort of "joy" through the writing of
his "woes."

Astrophil and Stella Summary

Astrophel and Stella tracks the development of a love affair. Over the course of the sequence
of poems, the protagonist and narrator Astrophel falls in love with the beautiful Stella, a
woman who is virtuous, intelligent, and his idealized partner in life. Most of the sonnets
consist of Astrophel as the speaker and Stella as the recipient of his speeches. Because
Astrophel is the "author" of the sonnet sequence, we can perceive his inner thoughts and
emotions but not much of Stella's. Stella's thoughts and personality are revealed to us only
through her actions and occasional speeches to Astrophel. The sonnet sequence would be
very different if Sidney had provided a more obvious indication of Stella's feelings. As it is,
we partake mainly in just one side of the romance.
Although she initially does not return his affection, Stella tries to be kind to Astrophel, or at
least, Astrophel believes that she is trying to be kind to him. Although she does not show him
any particular favor in the first thirty or so sonnets, Stella never blatantly snubs him.
Eventually Stella marries another man, a fact which Astrophel discovers in the middle of the
sequence. Stella is extremely unhappy in her marriage, and Astrophel is even more attracted
to her because of her personal sacrifice in the marriage.

Stella eventually begins to return Astrophel's affection, but she never is overcome by her
passion for him, something which Astrophel is unable to avoid doing. Near the end of the
sonnet sequence, Astrophel attempts to coerce her into making love with him despite her
marriage vows. He even steals a kiss from her while she is sleeping. Stella realizes that, even
though she loves Astrophel, the affair cannot continue if Astrophel needs his passion to be
consummated. As a result, Stella ends the relationship.

Using clues in the sonnets and comparing them with Sydney's life, one can interpret that, with
the exception of Sonnet 24, the first thirty sonnets of the sequence were written while "Stella"
was still the unmarried Penelope Devereux. Though she did not give Sidney any overt marks
of encouragement, she also did not express any displeasure with his romantic attentions.
These first thirty sonnets probably encompass the poetry of over a year: some dating from
before Sidney's exile from court, some from the time spent at his sister's estate, some from
time spent seeing Stella at the home of one of their common relatives in the summer of 1580,
and some dating from after his return to court.

Sidney discovers Penelope's marriage to Lord Rich between the thirty-first and thirty-third
sonnet. The thirty-third sonnet, with its anguished "I might," clearly describes Sidney's first
interaction with Penelope as the now-married Lady Rich. As for Astrophel, he nevertheless
resolves to continue in his love for Stella-that is, in spite of her marriage. If anything, the fact
that she now belongs to another man makes him even more willing to love her and hopefully
win her heart. Even though he knows that she is unhappy in her marriage, Astrophel is often
consumed by his jealousy, realizing that Lord Rich always has access to Stella but never
appreciates her.

Stella first begins to express affection for Sidney around the sixtieth sonnet. It is at this point
in the plot that their love affair finally begins to move forward. Astrophel no longer simply
describes Stella's beauty and his slavery to Love; he describes real interactions that occur
between the two. But as soon as Stella admits her love for Astrophel, the affair becomes far
more problematic. The first major conflict that immediately appears in their relationship is
Astrophel's too-strong passion for Stella. Because she is already married, Stella is unwilling
to enter into a physical relationship with Astrophel. She offers him her love on the condition
that their relationship will be platonic.

Astrophel is content with this arrangement for a few sonnets, but then his physical desire for
Stella begins to overwhelm him. Several of the sonnets are devoted to this conflict: his
rational mind recognizes that the only way to please Stella and continue the affair is to
suppress his physical desire for her, yet Astrophel's desire supplants any of his rationality. He
thus cannot help but wish to be with her physically. In Song 2, Astrophel kisses Stella while
she is sleeping, an act which is the closest Astrophel ever gets to a physical consummation of
his desire. The wording of the Song is very telling: the kiss is expressed as a sort of rape.

Stella is incredibly angry at Astrophel's betrayal of her trust, but Astrophel is still unable to
appease his desire. The stolen kiss prompts Stella's first major rejection of Astrophel. She
admits that she loves him but insists that they can no longer see each other. Astrophel is
tormented by her absence, but he is comforted by the knowledge that she still loves him.
The relationship becomes even more dramatic and complicated as the sequence continues.
The two are separated, but they continue in their love for one another. Astrophel, in
particular, loves her even more deeply than ever. In Sonnet 93, he admits that he has harmed
Stella in some way, and he is overwhelmed by guilt and sorrow for the next few sonnets. We
never discover how Astrophel has harmed her (he never provides any specific details-is this
all about the kiss?), but his actions and guilt make it clear that the relationship is now doomed
to end forever.

Stella falls ill in Sonnet 101, which spurs Astrophel to confess his love for her again. He
serenades her under her window in Song 11, hoping that she will change her mind and stay
with him. Despite his entreaties, Stella refuses to sacrifice her husband and her reputation.
For the first time in the sequence, we see her true anger and disdain for Astrophel. She is
appalled that he would continue in his attentions even while she has begged him not to do so.
Finally, she dismisses him forever. Astrophel ends the sonnet alone and isolated, empty
without Stella's presence. Yet, despite the tragedy of the end, Astrophel retains some
happiness in the knowledge that he loved Stella and that she once loved him in return.

The Defence of Poesy Summary of Section I

Perhaps no work in English goes under quite as many slightly varied titled as Philip Sidney’s
signature work. Variously known as a Defence of Poesyy, Defense of Poesy, Defense of
Poetry, Apology for Poetry, Apologie for Poesy—as well as all the myriad different ways of
putting those words together, the one thing that all titles have in common is the reference to a
passionate defense of the value of poetry during an age which saw it being attacked as it had
not been since the height of ancient Greek civilization. The opening of the essay lays out
Sidney’s reasons for defending poetry: he believes poetry is insufficiently esteemed in his
society, and as an aristocrat as well as a poet, he feels he must defend his vocation to preserve
his honor.
This section serves as the "Introduction" section of a classic, seven-part argument. While
some rhetoricians define classical arguments as having five or six parts (the exordium,
the narratio, the partitio, the refutatio and/or the confirmatio, and the peroratio), the
"digresio" is a seventh part of classical argumentation lauded by several classical
philosophers, most famously discussed in Quintillian's Institutio Oratoria.
The essay begins with Sidney revealing the setting to the story. He and another man named
Edward Watton were together at the Emperor’s court where they met the horseman John
Pietro Pugaliano. The men talked about horses, with Pugaliano arguing that for princes and
noblemen, the skill of horsemanship is more important than even the “skill of government.”
Pugliano’s “strong affection and weak argument” convince Sidney—an aristocrat and former
soldier and horseman—that he should make an argument in favor of poetry, as he has
“slipped into the title of a poet."

Sidney claims poetry is valuable because it was the first form of literary art to come into
existence. He seeks to prove the historical veneration of poets and poetry, especially in Greek
and Roman society.

The Defence of Poesy Summary of Sections II-III

A second part of the essay that serves as "proposition" section of a classical argument begins
as Sidney writes, “Now let us go to a more ordinary opening of him, that the truth may be
more palpable.” He turns away from the ancient names of poets and begins to describe
poetry’s function—its "works" rather than its "parts." He asserts that its central function is to
teach and inspire. Then, Sidney imagines two potential challengers to this elevating of poetry
above all other forms of learning: the philosopher and the historian. He seeks to discount their
two respective opinions.

Sidney notes that philosophers teach, but their teaching is too abstract. As for historians,
whereas history also has particular examples, the poet is free to write about events as
they should be, whereas historians can only talk about what was, and are thus “captive to the
truth of a foolish world.” Poetry can draw on history, but poetry make history's lessons even
clearer and more delightful.
To prove his point further, Sidney states that even Christ used poetry to convey his teachings:
his parables provide specific illustrations of moral lessons. The poet is the “popular
philosopher,” teaching in ways that are easily digestible. Finally, Sidney concludes the
section by noting that poets not only teach readers, but also move them, a harder task than
merely teaching.

Section III, sometimes called “The Poet Monarch of all Human Sciences,” serves as the
"division" section of a classical, seven-part argument. Sidney extols the beauty of poetry, and
its aptitude for teaching. Then, Sidney returns to a different idea: the distinction between
poetry’s works or deeds on the one hand, and its “parts” on the other. As his argument
progresses, we see that by “parts” he means genres of poetry. Sidney proceeds to praise the
pastoral, the lamenting elegy, the iamb, the satire, the comic, the tragedy, the lyric poem, and
the heroic poem.

This leads Sidney to consider possible counterarguments. First, he takes on the perspective of
“poet-haters” who scoff without reason or understanding. After quickly dispensing with this
counterargument, Sidney provides three more possible objections: “First, that..a man might
better spend his time in them than in this. Secondly, that it is the mother of lies. Thirdly, that
it is the nurse of abuse, infecting us with many pestilent desires.”

After addressing these three arguments, Sidney turns to a more serious adversary than “poet-
haters”: Plato. Returning to a familiar argument, Sidney ultimately states that Plato took
exception not to poetry, but to poets. After listing a number of admired ancient poets,
including Socrates, Aristotle, and Plutarch, Sidney writes that he needs “not to defend poesy
with the help of his underling historiographer.” He summarizes his argument once again.

The Defence of Poesy Summary of Sections IV, V, & VI & VII

The fourth part of the essay, sometimes titled “Causes of Defect in English Poetry,” serves as
the "examination" section of a classical argument. Sidney turns to the question of poetry in
England. He notes that because it is disrespected, the only people who write poetry are “base
men with servile wits...who think it enough if they can be rewarded of the printer.” Next,
Sidney meditates on the best way to write poetry—real poetry, that is. He notes that imitation,
exercise, and true inspiration are all necessary components for good verse. Sidney spends
time praising poets of yore, including Chaucer and the Earl of Surrey, and then criticizes his
contemporary playwrights.

In Section V, the "refutation" section of a classical argument, Sidney criticizes contemporary

love poetry and its poor articulation of love. He stresses the importance of simplicity and
naturalness in verse.
Continuing in Section VI, sometimes called “Capacities of the English Language,” Sidney
argues that English is especially well-suited for natural, effective poetry. This serves as the
"peroration" (conclusion) section of a classical argument.

In the final section, VII, “Capacities of the English Language,” Sidney uses a long, run-on
sentence divided by semicolons to directly address to inspire his readers. He summarizes his
previous argument, once again rebutting criticisms and affirming poetry's strengths. While
Sidney begins the essay making modest claims for poetry and apologizing for it, by the end,
he grants it the godly power to make humans immortal. This is the "digression" section of a
classical seven-part argument.

Sir Walter Raleigh One of the most colorful, politically powerful members of the court of
Queen Elizabeth I, Walter Raleigh (sometimes spelled Ralegh) is one personification of the
English Renaissance. Born at Hayes Barton, Devonshire, most likely in 1554, Raleigh came
from a prominent family long associated with seafaring. In his mid-teens, Raleigh interrupted
his education to fight with Huguenot forces in France. After returning to England in 1572, he
attended Oxford University for two years and left without earning a degree to study law in
London.
One of the first examples of Raleigh’s poetry appeared in 1576 as the preface to George
Gascoigne's satire The Steele Glas. Two years later, Raleigh and his half-brother Sir
Humphrey Gilbert sailed to North America in an unsuccessful attempt to find the Northwest
Passage. In 1580, Raleigh took part in the English suppression of Ireland, earning a
reputation as a war hero primarily for leading a massacre of unarmed Spanish and Italian
troops. After he returned to England, Queen Elizabeth summoned him to serve as an advisor
on Irish affairs.
The Queen was taken with Raleigh's personal charm, and he soon became one of her court
favorites. In addition to lucrative royal commissions and grants, he was knighted in 1585 and
in 1587 was named captain of the Queen's personal guard. The majority of Raleigh's poetry
was written during this period, much of it designed to flatter Elizabeth and secure her royal
favor. He was able to use that influence to ensure her favorable reception of his friend
Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene (1590). Raleigh also used his influence to gain the
Queen's support for his plan to establish the first English colony in North America, on
Roanoke Island, in what is now North Carolina. Established in 1587, the colony was soon
abandoned, and its inhabitants vanished without a trace.
In 1592, Queen Elizabeth discovered that Raleigh had secretly married Elizabeth
Throckmorton, a member of the royal court, some time during the late 1580s. Furious over
what she believed to be their betrayal, Elizabeth ordered the couple imprisoned in separate
cells in the Tower of London. Although Raleigh was released within months, he was stripped
of many of his privileges and exiled from the court. In February of 1595, Raleigh sailed to the
Orinoco River in what is now Venezuela in search of gold. He regained the Queen’s favor in
1596 by taking part in a daring raid on the Spanish at Cádiz. He was named governor of the
Isle of Jersey, and in 1601, he put down a rebellion led by his longtime rival, the Earl of
Essex.
Elizabeth's successor, James I, disliked and distrusted Raleigh and in July 1603 charged him
with treason. He was tried in November. Convicted and sentenced to death, Raleigh was
again imprisoned in the Tower of London, where he spent the next 13 years. During this time,
he wrote The History of the World, considered by many a literary, if not a historical,
masterpiece. Raleigh eventually convinced King James to release him to lead an expedition to
find gold and silver in South America. Spain had become rich and powerful through the gold
it had stolen from the Americas, and with England's treasury nearly depleted, the King
reluctantly agreed to back the plan. Because of his earlier voyage to the Orinoco River,
Raleigh knew there was little chance of finding gold there; he planned instead to capture
Spanish ships carrying gold back to Spain. Although King James had ordered Raleigh not to
tempt war with Spain, he believed that if he could pirate enough gold, the King would
overlook his disobedience.
Unfortunately, the expedition was a disaster. Raleigh encountered and attacked Spanish
forces near Santo Tomé, and in the ensuing battle, his eldest son was killed. Upon his return
to England, he was again imprisoned and his order of execution reinstated. Raleigh was
beheaded outside the palace of Westminster on October 29, 1618.