The First Part of the Countess of Montgomery’s Urania, 1621 by Mary Wroth
Edited by Josephine Roberts
Edition:
The First Part of the Countess of Montgomery’s Urania
by Lady Mary Wroth
Leandrus
Clarimatto
Note to self: Narrator as character? Asides? I could start tagging them, but initially only tag the spots that include proto-imperialist language (Need to start that list of words and phrases),
Also, securing lineal identity word list (have some of this already-add to this doc)
Page 1 Roberts
sig. B1 in square brackets, won’t let me THE FIRST BOOK.
When the Spring began to appeare like the welcome messenger of
Summer, one sweet (and in that more sweet) morning, after Aurora had
called all carefull eyes to attend the day, forth came the faire Shepherdesse
Urania, (faire indeed; yet that farre too meane a title for her, who for5 beautie deserv’d the highest stile could be given by best knowing Judge-
ments). Into the Meade she came, where usually shee drave her flocks to
feede, whose leaping and wantonnesse shewed they were proud of such a
Guide: But she, whose sad thoughts led her to another manner of spending
her time, made her soon leave them, and follow her late begun custome;
10 which was (while they delighted themselves) to sit under some shade,
bewailing her misfortune; while they fed, to feed upon her owne sorrow
and teares, which at this time she began againe to summon, sitting downe
under the shade of a well-spread Beech; the ground (then blest) and the tree
with full, and fine leaved branches, growing proud to beare, and shadow
15 such perfections. But she regarding nothing, in comparison of her woe,
thus proceeded in her griefe:
“Alas Urania,” said she, “(the true servant to misfortune); of any mis-
erie that can befall woman, is not this the most and greatest which thou
art falne into? Can there be any neare the unhappinesse of being ig
norant,
20 and that in the highest kind, not being certaine of mine owne estate or
birth? Why was I not stil continued in the beleefe I was, as I appeare, a
Shepherdes, and Daughter to a Shepherd? My ambition then went no
higher then this estate, now flies it to a knowledge; then was I contented,
now perplexed. O ignorance, can thy dulnesse yet procure so sharpe about
25 paine? and that such a thought as makes me now aspire unto knowledge?
How did I joy in this poore life being quiet? blest in the lvoe of those I
tooke for parents, but now by them I know the contrary, and by that
knowledge, not to know my selfe. Miserable Urania, worse art thou now
then these thy Lambs; for they know their dams, while thou dost live un-
30 knowne of any.”
By this were others come into that Meade with their flocks: but shee
esteeming her sorrowing thoughts her best, and choycest companie, left that
place, taking a little path (sig.B1(superscript v)) which brought her to the further side of the
plaine, to the foote of the rocks, speaking as she went these lines, her eies fixt
35 upon the ground, her very soule turn’d into mourning.
Unseene, unknowne, I here alone complaine
To Rocks, to Hills, to Meadowes, and to Springs,
Which can no helpe returne to ease my paine,
# But back my sorrowes the sad Eccho brings. Note about Ovid's Echo-Wroth/Urania giving Echo a voicePage 2 Roberts
Thus still encreasing are my woes to me,
Doubly resounded by that monefull voice,
Which seemes to second me in miserie,
# And answere gives like friend of mine owne choice. Urania befriends Eccho, by choice, and gives her voice. Compare to Ovid's Echo5 Thus onely she doth my companion prove,
The others silently doe offer ease:
But those that grieve, a grieving note doe love;
Pleasures to dying eies bring but disease:
And such am I, who daily ending live,
10 Wayling a state which can no comfort give.
In this passion she went on, till she came to the foote of a great rocke,
shee thinking of nothing lesse then ease, sought how she might ascend it;
hoping there to passe away her time more peaceably with lonelinesse,
though not to find least respit from her sorrow, which so deerely she did15 value, as by no meanes she would impart it to any. The way was hard,
though by some windings making the ascent pleasing. Having attained the
top, she saw under some hollow trees the entrie into the rocke: she fearing
nothing but the continuance of her ignorance, went in; where see found
a pretty roome, as if that stonie place had yet in pitie, given leave for such
20 perfections to come into the heart as chiefest, and most beloved place,
because most loving. The place was not unlike the ancient (or the descrip-
tions of ancient) Hermitages, instead of hangings, covered and lined with
Ivie, disdaining ought els should come there, that being in such perfection.
This richnesse in Natures plentie made her stay to behold it, and almost
25 grudge the pleasant fulnes of content that place might have, if sensible,
while she must know to taste of torments. As she was thus in passion mixt
with paine, throwing her eies as wildly as timerous Lovers do for feare of
discoverie, she perceived a little Light, and such a one, as a chinke doth oft
discover in our sights. She curious to see what this was, with her delicate
30 hands put the naturall ornament aside, discerning a little doore, which she
putting from her, passed through it into another roome, like the first in all
proportion; but in the midst there was a square stone, like to a prettie table,
and on it a wax-candle burning; and by that a paper, which had suffered it
selfe patiently to receive the discovering of so much of it, as presented this
35 Sonnet (as it seemed newly written) to her sight.
Here all alone in silence might I mourne:
But how can silence be where sorrowes flow?
Sighs with complaints have poorer paines out-worne; alliteration
But broken hearts can only true griefe show. square bracket sig.B2 square bracket Page 3 Roberts
Drops of my dearest bloud shall let Love know
Such teares for her I shed, yet still do burne,
As no spring can quench least part of my woe,
Till this live earth, againe to earth doe turne. 5 Hatefull all thought of comfort is to me,
Despised day, let me still night possesse; alliteration
Let me all torments feele in their excesse,
And but this light allow my state to see.
Which still doth wast, wasting as this light,10 Are my sad dayes unto eternall night.
"Alas Urania!" sigh'd she, "How well doe these words, this place, and
all agree with they fortune? sure poore soule thou wert heere appointed to
spend thy daies, and these roomes ordain'd to keepe thy tortures in; none
being assuredly so matchlesly unfortunate." matchlessley unfortunate? biographical not? 15 Turning from the table, she discerned in the roome a bed of boughes,
and on it a man lying, deprived of outward sense, as she thought, and of
life, as she at first did feare, which strake her into a great amazement: yet
having a brave spirit, though shadowed under a meane habit, she stept
unto him, whom she found not dead, but laid upon his back, his head a
20 little to her wards, his armes foulded on his brest, haire long, and beard
disordered, manifesting all care; but care it selfe had left him: curiousnesse define manifest and care in OED
thus farre afoorded him, as to bee perfectly discerned the most exact peece
of miserie; Apparrell hee had sutable to the habitation, which was a long peece and miserie seem too close together to be random
gray robe. This grievefull spectacle did much amaze the sweet and
25 tender-hearted Shepherdesse; especially, when she perceived (as she might
by helpe of the candle) the teares which distilled from his eyes; who !!!my favorite discourse on tears!!!
seeming the image of death, yet had this signe of worldly sorrow, the
drops falling in that abundance, as if there were a kind strife among them,
to rid their Master first of that burdenous carriage; or else meaning to
30 make a floud, and so drowne their wofull Patient in his owne sorrow, who
yet lay still, but then fetching a deepe groane from the profoundest part of
his soule, he said:
“Miserable Perissus, canst thou thus live, knowing she that gave thee
life is gone? Gone, O me! and with her all my joy departed. Wilt thou
35 (unblessed creature) lie here complaining for her death, and know she died
for thee? Let truth and shame make thee doe something worthy of such a
Love, ending thy daies like thy selfe, and one fit to be her Servant. But
that I must not doe: then thus remaine and foster stormes, still to torment alliteration
thy wretched soule withall, since all are little, and too too little for such a repetition of too and little
Page 4 Roberts
losse. O deere Limena, loving Limena, worthy Limena, and more rare,
constant Limena: perfections delicately faign'd to be in women were veri- ??? delicately faign'd ??? discuss with faculty
fied in thee, was such worthinesse framed onely to be wondred at by the
best, but given as a prey to base and unworthy jealousie? When were all wor-
thy parts joyn'd in one, but in thee (my best Limena)? yet all these growne
subject to a creature ignorant of all but ill; like unto a Foole, who in a darke
Cave, that hath but one way to get out, having a candle, but not the square bracket sig. B2 w/ raised v sqare bracket
understanding what good it doth him, puts it out: this ignorant wretch not
being able to comprehend thy vertues, did so by thee in thy murder, putting
out the worlds light, and mens admiration: Limena, Limena, O my Limena."
With that he fell from complaining into such a passion, as weeping and
crying were never in so wofull a perfection, as now in him; which brought
as deserved a compassion from the excellent Shepherdesse, who already
had her heart so tempered with griefe, as that it was apt to take any "who...withall" is such a beautiful description of how griefe lays one open, indefensible, to "take any impresson..."
impression that it would come to seale withall. Yet taking a brave courage
to her, shee stept unto him, kneeling downe by his side, and gently pulling
him by the arme, she thus spake.
"Sir," said she, "having heard some part of your sorrowes, thy have
not only made me truly pitie you, but wonder at you; since if you have
lost so great a treasure, you should not lie thus leaving her and your love
unrevenged, suffering her murderers to live, while you lie here complain-
ing; and if such perfections be dead in her, why make you not the Phoenix
of your deeds live againe, as to new life rais'd out of the revenge you
should take on them? then were her end satisfied, and you deservedly
accounted worthie of her favour, if shee were so worthie as you say."
"If shee were, O God," cri'd out Perissus, "what divelish spirit art
thou, that thus dost come to torture me? But now I see you are a woman;
and therefore not much to be marked, and lesse resisted: but if you know
charitie, I pray now practise it, and leave me who am afflicted sufficiently
without your companie; or if you will stay, discourse not to me." having just read Antigone again, and thinking about Urania's silence in New Arcadia, I see where Wroth uses Perissus to set up readers to see his bias as having no basis in reality
"Neither of these will I doe," said she. An intertextual conversation between a Urania that gives Eccho a voice and a Urania that repels an unfounded (at least within this text and related to Urania specifically) lack of value in "woman"
"If you be then," said he, "some furie of purpose sent to vex me, use as advisor and a one dimensional shell of a Urania left in New Arcadia is, perhaps, a more interesting and nuanced conversation. Wroth's Urania is niether woman nor furie, according to Perissus' understanding.
your force to the uttermost in martyring me; for never was there a fitter She will not vex, nor will she martyr him. She is no a "divelish spirit." Instead, Urania denies his accusations; she comes to argue for valor, for constancy, for revenge, and for love. Mostly, she argues for revenge.
subject, then the heart of poore Perissus is." 35 “I am no furie,” repli’d the divine Urania, “nor hither come to
trouble you, but by accident lighted on this place; my cruell hap being
such, as onely the like can give me content, while the solitarinesse of this
like Cave might give me quiet, though not ease; seeking for such a one, I
happened hither; and this is the true cause of my being here, though now
40 I would use it to a better end if I might: Wherefore favour me with the
knowledge of your griefe; which heard, it may be I shall give you some
counsell, and comfort in your sorrow.”
Page 5 Roberts
"Cursed may I bee," cri'd he, "if ever I take comfort, having such
cause of mourning: but because you are, or seeme to be afflicted, I will not
refuse to satisfie your demaund, but tell you the saddest storie that ever
was rehearsed by dying man to living woman, and such a one, as I feare5 will fasten too much sadnesse in you: yet should I denie it, I were too
blame, being so well knowne to these senselesse places; as were they
sensible of sorrow, they would condole, or else amased at such crueltie,
stand dumbe as they doe, to find that man should be so inhumane.
“Then faire Shepherdesse, heare my selfe say my name is Perissus, Shepherdesse is Urania Perissus
10 Nephew I am to the King of Sicilie, a place fruitfull and plentifull of all Nephew King of Sicilie fruitfull and plentifull
things; onely niggardly of good nature to a great man in the Country, niggardly of good nature to a great man in the Country
whom I am sure you have heard me blame in my complaints. Heire I am Heire
as yet to this King mine Uncle; and truly may I say so, for a more unfor- King Uncle
tunate Prince never lived, so as I inherit his crosses, howesoever I sig.B3 in square brackets Prince so as I inherit his crosses, howesoever I
15 shall his estate. There was in this Country (as the only blessing it enjoyed) shall his estate parentheses turn red when cursor by them. check this.
a Lady, or rather a Goddesse for incomparable beautie, and matchles Lady Goddesse incomparable beautie matchles
vertues, called Limena, daughter to a Duke; but, Princesse of all hearts: this vertues Limena
starre comming to the Court to honour it with such light, it was in that
my blessed destinie to see her, and be made her servant, or better to say,
20 a slave to her perfections; thus long was I happie, but now begins the
tragedies: for warres falling out betweene the people and the Gentlemen,
the King was by the people (imagining he tooke the other part) brought
into some danger, and so great an one, as rudenes joynd with ill nature
could bring him into, being at last besieged in a strong hold of his, all of
25 us his servants, and gentle subjects, striving for his good and safetie; in this
time nothing appearing but danger, and but wise force to preserve mens
lives and estates unto them, every one taking the best meanes to attaine
unto their good desires.
“The Duke (father to the best, and truest beauty) would yet bestow those red parentheses again
30 that upon a great Lord in the Country, truly for powerfull command and
meanes, a fit match for any, but the wonder of women, since none could
without much flatterie to himselfe, thinke he might aspire to the blessing
of being acounted worthie to be her servant, much lesse her husband. Shee
seeing it was her fathers will, esteeming obedience beyond all passions, how
35 worthily soever, suffered; most dutifully, though unwillingly, said, she would
obey: her tongue faintly delivering, what her heart so much detested; loath-
ing almost it selfe, for consenting in shew to that which was most con-
trarie to it selfe; yet thus it was concluded, and with as much speed as any
man would make to an eternall happines.
40 “While of this, and so my misfortune, I remained ignorant, till one
day warres being a little ceased, though not ended, the siege still con-
tinuing, I stole from mine uncle to see my heart, which she kept safe with
Page 6 Roberts
her: but when I came thither, I found, or fear'd I found no roome for it.
She who had it, being in the power of mine enemie, for so I accounted
him, when he enjoyed my losse, my hopes being frustrate, my joyes lost
and spoild, I grew from my selfe, my sences failed me, a trambling possess-
ing my whole bodie, so as this distemper was marked, and pittied of all:
but what did comfort me, was, that she did seeme to pitty me. Then did I
blesse my torments, that had procured me such a favour. There were none,
but carefully sought my health, especially her husband, whose diligence
was as tedious, as his wives was my onely joy. Griev'd I was to stay and
see my miserie, yet sad I was to goe from seeing her, who gave me (though
a barr'd) delight in beholding her: but knowing passion the greater Lord
over my strength, I tooke my leave, pretending busines, having onely
taken the opportunitie that way afforded me to visite them, passing so
neare by them; they all seemed sorry for my going, and Limena indeed
ws so; then by unus'd pathes I got backe to the King, often, as i rode,
looking to that place where I left my soule prisoner.
"When I had been a while at home, remembring, or rather never let-
ting the beautie of Limena be absent from me, I say remembring her, and
my everlasting wretched state in missing her; calling my mischiefe by his
gaine to account, I found so much cause to lament, as in short time I was
but mournefull sorrow; my friends [sig.B3raisedv] griev'd, and generally all did
shew displeasure for me, only my selfe found nothing but cause to proceed
in this despaire, love having truly changed me to that most low, and still
unluckie fate. Business of State I neglected, going about as in a dreame, led
by the cruellest of hellish spirits, Despaire, till I was awaked by a command
to goe and leade some troops which were gathered by the Kings friends
together comming to raise the siege, yet desiring me to be their head. I
went, and thus farre wilingly, having so much hope left me, as to thinke
I might by this meanes conclude my afflictions with my end; yet first I
resolved to write unto her, that she might know, she had so unblest a
creature to her Servant.
"When I had written my letter with shaking hands, and yet a more
shaking heart, I gave it to a Page of mine, who was newly come unto mee,
and never had been seene in her Fathers house, giving him besides direc-
tions how to carrie himselfe, which he discreetly did observe, and found as
fit an opportunitie as could be wisht: for her husband being gone to see an
ancient house of his, she walked alone into a little Grove below the
place of her abiding; he perceiving her, knew straight it was she; wherefore he
followed her, having before hid himselfe in the uppermost part of the
thicket, expecting occasion whereby to performe his Masters commaund.
He then seeing it offered, would not neglect it, though somewhat timer-
ously, esteeming her for her excellencies rather some Goddesse of those
Page 7
Woods, then an earthly Creature: but remembering the infinite (yet not
sufficient) praises I had given her, concluded, it could be none other then
Limena; so as comming to her, he on his knees delivered the letter, saying
these words; The wofull Perissus his Lord and Master presented that, with
his service to her.
"This (though but little) was more then I could have said, if in his
place: For Lord, how was I afflicted with millions of doubts how it might
be delivered; then, whether she would accept of it; and most, what she
would conceive of my boldnesse, quaking when I gave it him, knowing
how wretched a creature I must bee, if it offended her, yet wishing I might
have had the papers place once more to have been toucht by her, though,
if it brought dislike, for that to have suffered martyrdome, But she for my
happinesse tooke it, and with a pretty blush read it, which since I perceiv'd
did spring from love, yet blusht to see it selfe so lively in her cheekes.
When she had read it,
"'Good youth,' said she, 'commend me to your Lord: but for his let-
ter, say, It needs no answer till he come himselfe, and fetch one.'
"With this he return'd, and so with much comfort to me, hope being glad
to build on any small ground, how much more then on so likely a possiblity.
I then, Hopes servant, as before onely slave to Despaire, made all haste I could
to see her, having good and welcome meanes affoorded me, being able
with convenience to take her Fathers house in my way to the new-rais'd
Army. Thither I came, which through in a wild Forest, yet it as pretend-
ed, I left the great roads for my better safetie. Thus was a colour set upon
my love, which but for her service, and so the safelier to serve her, would
suffer any glosse but truth in affection.
"Being there ariv'd, I was extreamly welcomed of all: her Father, a
grave and wise man, discoursed with mee of business of State: after him,
and so all supper time, her husband discoursed of hunting, an exercise fit
for such a creature. Neither of these brought my Mistris from a grave, and
almost [sig.B4] sad countenance, which made me somewhat feare, knowing
her understanding, and experience, able and sufficient to judge, or advise
in any matter we could discoursse of: but modestie in her caus'd it, onely
loving knowledge, to be able to discerne mens understandings by thier
arguments, but no way to shew it by her owne speech. This (and withall
feare of discovering some passions, which she, though excelling in wit and
judgement; yet could not governe, at least, guiltines forc'd her to thinke
so) was the reason she held her gravitie; yet after she grew more merry.
And I finding a fit time by her husbands going out of the chamber, with
some companie that was there, humbly desired an answere of my letter.
She blushing, and as if ashamed so much innocent vertue should be discov-
ered with my Lover-like importunitie in her, though strong in constancie;Page 8 Roberts
yet womans affection gain'd so much by lookes, and sweet though-fearing
words, as I was resolved, and assured of her love, which made me proud of
such a treasure, begin to dispose part of it to my benefit, for looking
about, and seeing every ones eyes carried their owne waies, I kist her; she,
not offended, yet said:
"'Let not my freedome make you dispose otherwise then virtouusly of
me.'
"I vowed more then that libertie I would not aske, which I know, if
I offered, her vertue would have refused, nor truly would my deere
and worthy affection permit mee to demaund, and this held our loves
more firme, when tied by vertue. But not to hold you long with this
(which yet to me is some ease for the present, although the bitterer the
conclusion is that followes). We had as many such meetings as true, or
fained meanes could compasse us, till our miserie was such, as this wild
man her husband (whether out of true consideration of his great unworthi-
nes, or proceeding from his froward disposition, I know not) grew jealous
(an humour following base minds as readily, as thunder doth the light-
ning), then had he rashness to accompany the other, which fram'd a deter-
minatiom, which was soone altered from that name by performance, that
she should no longer with her father, but go with him to his own
house; this I had notice of, but all that we could doe, could not hinder the
accomplishing his will, and save her honour, which to me, more deere
then mine owne life was esteemed.
"But the night before her going I came thither, where I found the ac-
customed entertainement, he using me with al shew of respect, which in
that kind I embraced; our hearts being as farre from meaning truth in
giving or accepting, as truth is from bare complement; but greatnesse in
me made him use it; and care in me (of my better selfe) receive it; my
heart swelling with hate and scorne, even almost to breaking, when I did
see him. That night I saw her, and but spake to her, so curiously her hus-
band watched us, yet could he not keepe our eies, but by them we did de-
liver our soules, he onely able to keepe her daintie body in his wicked
prison.
"The next day they went, and so went all worth with this odd man to
have her delicacy kept like a Diamond in a rotten box: yet she considering
it to be to no purpose to contend, where she was miserably bound to
obey, observed him, as well as she could bring her spirit to consent to; yet
did he begin for her welcome to gorw curst to her; with her Servants he
first began, finding, or better to say, framing occasions to be rid of them
all, placing of his owne about her, which she suffered, onely contenting
her selfe with the memorie of our Loves: yet wanting the true content
wich was in our conversation, shee [sig.B4raisedv] grew sad, and keeping much
Page 9 Roberts
within, grew pale, her rosie cheekes and lippes changing to wannesse: but
this was all the change, her noble heart free from such a sinne. This was
but part of her affliction, still vexing her sweete disposition, with speaking
slightly of me, and then telling her of her love to me; which brought her
to the passe, as at last I was not named, but she would blush; then would
he revile her, and vilely use her: but she patiently, and silently bare all not
suffering me to have notice of it, lest it might, as it should have done,
move mee to revenge her wrong for my sake endured. Thus it rested, she
restlesly bearing all the ills that froward Nature (mixt with peevish and
spitefull jealousie) could afflict upon the purest mind; using no other
meanes, but gentle and mild perswasions, which wrought no more in him,
but that still his madnesse increased. Page 101 Roberts
(sex, creatures; abus’d; sham’d; Leandrus; teares; creature; )
Analysis: Language used to describe both of them is animalistic: Both are creatures; her foule mind is caged inside her body. Her fairness IS a cage. Inconstancy is animalistic.
Animals are savage. Animals are caged. Animals are souleless? Animals are not constant (some are-what do early moderns accept as about the nature of animals more generally?
How do Arcadia and Amadis use self-referentail animal language? What about Quixote?