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 STUDIES IN COMPARATIVE LITERATURE 
 
 GREEK ROMANCES 
 IN ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
COLUMBIA 
 
 UNIVERSITY PRESS 
 
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 NEW YORK : 
 
 LEMCKE & BUECHNER 
 3C-32 West 27TH Street 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HENRY FROWDE 
 Amen Corner, E.C. 
 
 TORONTO : 
 
 HENRY FROWDE 
 25 Richmond Street, W. 
 
THE GREEK ROMANCES 
 
 IN 
 
 ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 SAMUEL LEE WOLFF 
 // 
 
 Submitted in Partial Fulfillment of the 
 
 Requirements for the Degree of 
 
 Doctor of Philosophy, in the Faculty of Philosophy, 
 
 Columbia University 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 IQI2 
 
T^ 
 
 ? 
 
 
 
 Copyright, 191 2 
 By The Columbia University Press 
 
 Printed from type January, 191s 
 
 Gill 
 
 TWUoWersitr 
 JUL 26 191? 
 
 PRESS OF 
 
 The new era printing company 
 Lancaster pa 
 
I 
 
 3 
 
 TTuV monograph has been approved by the Department of 
 English and Comparative Literature in Columbia University as 
 a contribution to knowledge worthy of publication. 
 
 A. H. Thorndike, 
 
 Secretary. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The subject of this book has not, as far as I 
 know, been treated before. Though the influence 
 of Greek fiction upon the fiction of the Renais- 
 sance has been noticed at some length by Dunlop 
 and by Professor Warren; and though Herr 
 Brunhuber, Herr Oeftering, and Mr. Moody 
 have observed a portion of Sidney's indebtedness 
 to the Greek Romances; yet no other attempt 
 has been made, I believe, to disengage the char- 
 acteristics of Greek Romance and to trace them 
 into English fiction of any period. The present 
 attempt results in the discovery of a distinct vein 
 of influence in Elizabethan literature, and in 
 some interesting specific discoveries : viz., that 
 Heliodorus and Longus are respectively a sec- 
 ondary and a primary source of Shakespeare; 
 that Lyly's " Euphues " probably occupies a place 
 in a long tradition that goes back to Greek 
 Romance ; and that both Sidney and Greene were 
 steeped in the matter and the style of Greek fic- 
 tion. The further discovery that Sidney went 
 so far as to remodel his "Arcadia" upon the 
 pattern of Heliodorus's narrative structure would 
 have been impossible but for Mr. Dobell's find 
 of manuscripts of the "Old Arcadia." To all 
 my known predecessors I make grateful acknowl- 
 edgment, both here and in the text. 
 
 The present study has been confined to the five 
 chief writers of Elizabethan fiction, — Lyly, Sid- 
 ney, Greene, Nash, and Lodge. Minor writers 
 like Sanford and Warner, even when known to 
 
VI 11 
 
 have used the Greek Romances, have received 
 only passing mention; nor has the Catalogue of 
 the British Museum been searched for titles sug- 
 gestive of Greek Romance. My bibliography, 
 thus, does not profess to be complete; it was com- 
 piled upon a frankly utilitarian basis, and con- 
 tains very few titles not actually referred to in 
 the book. With the same design of usefulness 
 to the reader, the Index has been made rather full. 
 
 I am under obligations to the authorities of 
 the Libraries of Columbia, Harvard, Princeton, 
 and the University of Michigan, for many cour- 
 tesies. To the owner of the " Clifford " and 
 " Ashburnham " Manuscripts of the "Old Ar- 
 cadia," who prefers to remain unnamed, and to 
 Mr. A. T. Porter of London, both of whom 
 most kindly allowed me the free use of their 
 property, my special acknowledgments are due. 
 My friend Dr. S. M. Tucker, Professor of Eng- 
 lish at the Brooklyn Polytechnic Institute, gave 
 me indispensable assistance in seeing this book 
 through the press. To Professor A. H. Thorn- 
 dike, of Columbia University, I am obliged for 
 many excellent suggestions. 
 
 Professor Woodberry was " the onlie begetter " 
 of the studies which have at last issued in this 
 book ; and my indebtedness to him is greater than 
 I can express or he would own. Professor J. B. 
 Fletcher, of Columbia University, has given 
 freely his valuable advice and criticism, as well 
 as a personal interest and encouragement without 
 which my work, however auspiciously begun, 
 would hardly have been completed. 
 
 New York, November 15, 191 1. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PART ONE 
 The Greek Romances 
 
 Chapter Pagh 
 
 I. Introductory: General Characteristics; 
 
 Chronology ; Analyses I 
 
 II. Plot, Character (Humor), Setting; Struc- 
 ture, Style in 
 
 Interchapter 237 
 
 PART TWO 
 Elizabethan Prose Fiction 
 
 I. John Lyly 248 
 
 II. Sir Philip Sidney 262 
 
 III. Robert Greene 367 
 
 IV. Thomas Nash and Thomas Lodge 459 
 
 Conclusion 461 
 
 Appendix A. Textual notes on the relation be- 
 tween Day's and Amyot's ver- 
 sions of " Daphnis and Chloe " 465 
 
 Appendix B. Notes and transcripts: " Clifford " 
 
 Ms. of Sidney's " Arcadia "... 470 
 
 Appendix C. Bibliographical Notes on William 
 Burton's translation of Achilles 
 Tatius 477 
 
 Bibliography 483 
 
 Index 506 
 
 1* 
 
\ 
 
THE GREEK ROMANCES IN ELIZA- 
 BETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 PART ONE 
 
 THE GREEK ROMANCES 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 INTRODUCTORY 
 
 General Characteristics ; Chronology ; 
 Analyses 
 
 The present study assumes the existence of the 
 Greek Romances, and looks forward in time to 
 their influence upon Elizabethan prose fiction. It 
 is therefore concerned with their origin or evolu- 
 tion only in as far as these may help to char- 
 acterize the Greek Romances themselves. It 
 makes no attempt to identify the borrowings of 
 Achilles Tatius from Plutarch or from Aristotle, 
 from Aelian or from Ovid; it cares not whether 
 Heliodorus lived before or after Xenophon of 
 Ephesus, or which of the two imitated the other ; 
 and it waives the question whether the Greek 
 Romances are an outcome of Greek historiog- 
 raphy or teratology, or of Alexandrian erotic 
 poetry, or of the Ionic novella, or of Oriental 
 
2 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 fiction, or of all. It is content with the certainty 
 that all the Greek Romances were earlier than 
 the writers of Elizabethan fiction, and that cer- 
 tain Greek Romances were known to these 
 writers. The table on pages 8-10 will show 
 concisely what Romances were accessible to per- 
 sons who wrote prose fiction during Queen 
 Elizabeth's reign (1558-1603). It is with the 
 chief of these writers, and with those Romances 
 which are found to have influenced them, that 
 the present study has to do. 
 
 The long and elaborate form of Greek prose 
 fiction known as the Romance was a late and 
 puny child of the Hellenic imagination. It came 
 into being during the decline of Greek literature, 
 and found a place there only after the greater 
 genres — epic, lyric, drama, oration — were dead. 
 It rose, too, after the destruction of Greek 
 nationality, and was not inspired, as were the 
 earlier genres, by a broad communal tradition of 
 religion, myth, morals, and polity. So it was at 
 once individualistic — the work of writers ex- 
 pressing their own fancies rather than the com- 
 mon imaginative fund of the Hellenic race; and 
 cosmopolitan — the work, often, of writers 
 actually not Greek, but African or Asiatic, — 
 writers from Pergamon, or Antioch, or Alex- 
 andria. 
 
 It came, moreover, after the schools of Alex- 
 andria had given their decisive ply to the litera- 
 ture that was to follow. The Alexandrian, 
 whether artist or critic, emphasized the pictur- 
 esque, the rhetorical, the fanciful, elements in 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 3 
 
 both life and letters. He was interested rather 
 in diversity than in unity, and cared more for a 
 series of idylls or word-pictures than for an 
 extensive single sustained act of creative imagi- 
 nation. Theocritus (VII. 45-8) and Calli- 
 machus (Epigram 30; Hymn to Apollo, 105 ff.), 
 Alexandrians both, agree for instance in depre- 
 cating the production of long epic poems; and 
 Apollonius Rhodius, who so offended his master 
 Callimachus by writing one, is held to have 
 justified in that very act the opinion of Cal- 
 limachus that the day of the epic was past. 2 In 
 fact, the Alexandrian liked the parts better than 
 the whole, and lingered to elaborate whatever 
 pleased. Admitting everything that would enter- 
 tain, he allowed episode, digression, irrelevancy, 
 to withdraw attention from the principal theme. 
 Life itself would move before him not as a 
 whole, made one by law, physical or moral, but 
 as a series of spectacles and emotions — " for to 
 admire and for to see." In the physical world as 
 interpreted by him, event does not produce event ; 
 the bond of causation is loosed, and the door 
 
 2 See Couat, " La Querelle de Callimaque et d'Apollonius 
 de Rhodes," in Annuaire de V Association pour I'Encourage- 
 vient des Etudes Grecques, vol. 11 (1877), p. 103 (a paper 
 embodied with some changes in the last chapter of his 
 " La Poesie Alexandrine ") ; Susemihl, " Geschichte der 
 Griechischen Litteratur in der Alexandrinerzeit," I. 169, 208, 
 350, 353, 384. " Die meisten alexandrinischen Dichter ver- 
 schrankten sich mit richtigem Gefiihl auf Dichtungen von 
 geringem Umfang, und hier gelang es ihnen wirklich noch 
 manches Neue und acht Poetische zu schaffen, namentlich 
 in der Schilderung individuellen Seelenlebens, in der anmu- 
 tigen Darstellung zarter, sentimentaler und leidenschaft- 
 licher Empfindungen." (Susemihl I. 169.) 
 
4 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 opened to chance. 3 In his moral world, the 
 choices and decisions of life — hardly realized as 
 choices or decisions at all — are lightly made, un- 
 deliberated, often unmotived. Between the two 
 worlds, inner and outer, there is no vital inter- 
 action: human character does not affect human 
 destiny, indeed scarcely affects environment; nor 
 on the other hand do conduct and environment 
 react upon and develop character. Sentiment, 
 the inward working of emotion, does not issue in 
 action, and so becomes mere sentimentality, to be 
 lingered over, sipped, and degusted, for its own 
 sake. And in the " world of description," the 
 movements and the sounds and shows of things — 
 alien to the nature of conduct, and not human- 
 ized, like the classical " setting " or " back- 
 ground," by the uses of man — these too are 
 lingered over for their own sake, because they 
 are picturesque, and take the sense with im- 
 mediate pleasure. The absence of unifying in- 
 teraction between the mental and the physical 
 order has left the Alexandrian either engrossed 
 in sentiment out of all contact with reality, or 
 sunk in matter unspiritualized. 
 
 As the links of Cause are broken, and Fortune 
 takes direction of the affairs of men, events 
 are no longer calculable, as they had been in any 
 imaginative work based, like the Attic drama for 
 example, upon the ancient myths, and exhibiting 
 " the laws of the gods " ; indeed, their interest 
 
 8 A far cry from Anaxagoras's strictly classical and sci- 
 entific view that what we call " chance " is causation as yet 
 unknown: alrla iv8pwflv<f Xoyicfif &8t]\os. (Diels, " Frag- 
 mente," I. 306, Frag. 66.) 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 5 
 
 comes to lie in their very incalculableness.* The 
 reader's pleasure no longer consists in seeing 
 law work itself inexorably out, but in being sur- 
 prised, shocked, made to "sit up," by the unex- 
 pectedness, the queerness of the turns things take. 
 The paradoxical, the bizarre, the inconsistent, the 
 self-contradictory — these were stock in trade 
 with the writers of Greek Romance. 
 
 When it is remembered, too, that these writers 
 were professional rhetoricians, their hunger for 
 paradox is seen to assume quite naturally a 
 second phase: — it becomes a sophisticated chase 
 after contrasts. The Greek Romances fairly 
 bristle with pointed sentences turning over ad 
 nauseam some shallow "conceited" antitheton. 
 And such writers, one may be sure, were not 
 too much occupied with ideas to neglect allitera- 
 tion of words, parallelism and balance of the 
 members of the sentence, and many another aid 
 to antithesis. 
 
 Few professional artists in language, again, 
 can resist their tendency toward a conscious dis- 
 play of their art. Given a world of senti- 
 mentality, the sophist will expatiate upon the 
 "psychology" of it, and tell his reader just how 
 a certain person felt upon a given occasion, and 
 why he wept, or was speechless ; or he will let the 
 person himself, by means of soliloquy or tirade 
 
 * Aristotle {Poet. IX. 11-12) recognizes the value of both 
 these elements : that event, he says, is most effective, which 
 is unlooked for, but at the same time strictly caused. The 
 Greek Romances, in neglecting the second element, give 
 undue force to the first. In fact, the " Poetics," chs. VIII 
 and IX (on Plot), and VI and XV (on Character), constitute 
 by anticipation the most concise and trenchant possible 
 criticism of the Greek Romances. 
 
6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 or letter or lamentation, set forth the conflict of 
 his own feelings. Given a world of sound and 
 show, the same sophist will make it the subject 
 of a rhetorical set-piece; will insert (relevant or 
 irrelevant, what matter?) long word-paintings, 
 tours de force of descriptive writing; or he may 
 go so far as to envisage the whole course of his 
 plot as a succession of pictures. 5 Himself a 
 talker by trade, he will rejoice in great talking- 
 matches, such as grow out of trials at law; and 
 will give the speeches in full. He will now and 
 again enliven his page with a debat or dubbio, 
 and show what can be said on each side of some 
 question in aesthetics or love. 
 
 The Greek Romances abound in such irrelevant 
 or episodic matter: glittering disputations, or 
 antithetical letters and monologues ; set-pieces of 
 rhetorical pyrotechny; descriptions of paintings, 
 statues, jewels, utensils, gardens and the like; 
 narratives of local mythology, tales of marvellous 
 beasts — puerile accounts of the phoenix and his 
 pious son, of the elephant's sweet breath, and the 
 terrifying aspect of the giraffe — with much other 
 "unnatural natural history." Plot and char- 
 acter, minimized and often eclipsed by such di- 
 gressions and episodes, fall far too much under 
 the control, respectively, of Fortune and of senti- 
 mentality, which are in their turn frequently 
 made the subject of lengthy tirades — Fortune 
 railed upon in good set terms, sentimentality 
 analyzed to death by means of a shallow and 
 distorted " psychology." 
 
 8 Cf. Andrew Lang : " Theocritus and his Age," pp. 
 xxxvii, ff. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 7 
 
 It is not here asserted that the schools of 
 Alexandria originated any of the tendencies that 
 are found in such exaggerated form in the Greek 
 Romances. Pictorial description or word-paint- 
 ing appears as early as the Shield of Achilles, 
 and has a long and honorable life in Greek 
 poetry; "the unexpected" we have seen recog- 
 nized by Aristotle; rhetorical antithesis was the 
 gist of the teaching of the early sophist Gorgias ; 
 puerile marvels are not wanting in Herodotus. 
 What is asserted is that Alexandria fostered all 
 these tendencies together as they had never been 
 fostered before, and that she transmitted them 
 to those later schools which produced the 
 Greek Romance. Furthermore, and this is the 
 main point, these tendencies are, in the Greek 
 Romance, not just combined mechanically; the 
 combination rests upon a new and unclassic view 
 of life, and hence of literature — a view which 
 would have been abhorrent to Homer, Aristotle, 
 and Herodotus, and even to Gorgias. 
 
 The foregoing sketch — an attempt at a general 
 characterization of the Greek Romance, may 
 serve to introduce analyses of the three chief 
 specimens of the genre: "The iEthiopica," or 
 "Theagenes and Chariclea," by Heliodorus; 
 "Clitophon and Leucippe," by Achilles Tatius, 
 and " Daphnis and Chloe," attributed to Longus ; 
 the only extant Greek Romances which are found 
 to have exercised any influence upon Elizabethan 
 prose fiction. Upon these analyses a more ex- 
 tensive critical discussion will be based. 
 
THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION II 
 
 Heliodorus : 
 
 ^THIOPICA, OR THEAGENES AND CHARICLEA 5a 
 
 A. The daughter of Hydaspes and Persina, 
 King and Queen of Ethiopia, was born white 
 (IV. viii), her mother at the moment of concep- 
 tion having gazed intently upon a painting of 
 white Andromeda. Persina, fearing lest this ex- 
 planation should not satisfy the jealousy of her 
 husband, exposed the child, who was saved (II. 
 xxxi) by Sisimithres, an Ethiopian nobleman and 
 gymnosophist, forbidden by his philosophical 
 tenets to abandon any living thing. With the 
 child he found and preserved a ring and other 
 jewels (IV. viii), as well as fillets upon which 
 were inscribed the reasons for her exposure. He 
 had her reared by shepherds. 
 
 When she was seven years old (II. xxx, xxxi) 
 he took her with him to Catadupi — the Cataracts 
 of the Nile — upon an embassy committed to him 
 by Hydaspes. Oroondates, Viceroy of Egypt 
 under the Great King, was disputing with 
 Hydaspes the title to the City of Philae and to 
 the emerald mines near it on the border between 
 Egypt and Ethiopia. Sisimithres, perhaps fear- 
 ing the consequences to himself and his ward 
 of the uncompromising claims he must make on 
 behalf of Hydaspes, entrusted the child, with her 
 
 S *A, B, etc., designate portions of the story for con- 
 venience in referring to them as wholes. Roman numerals 
 designate book and chapter of the original text. 
 
12 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 jewels and tokens, to one Charicles, a priest of 
 Apollo. As Charicles had recently lost his own 
 wife and daughter (II. xxix), he had left Delphi 
 to seek consolation in travel, and now happened 
 to be at Catadupi. He accepted the charge (II. 
 xxxii). Sisimithres's prudence was justified by 
 the event, for Oroondates ordered him out of 
 Catadupi at once on pain of death. [We hear 
 no more of him till the very end of the story.] 
 With Charicles the child returned to Delphi, re- 
 ceived the name Chariclea, and herself became a 
 priestess of Diana (II. xxxiii). 
 
 B. (a) When Chariclea had arrived at mar- 
 riageable age, there came to Delphi two persons — 
 the Memphian Calasiris, a priest of Isis (II. 
 xxvi), and Theagenes a Thessalian, a descendant 
 of Achilles (II. xxxiv). Calasiris in his temple 
 had been tempted by the charms of Rhodopis a 
 courtesan (II. xxv), and wished to fly from the 
 temptation; moreover, having divined that there 
 would be a deadly combat between his sons, he 
 wished to avoid the fulfilment of the prediction ; 
 and, finally, he deemed Delphi an appropriate 
 place of retirement for one of his priestly caste 
 (II. xxvi). Theagenes had come to celebrate 
 memorial rites (II. xxxiv) in honor of his an- 
 cestor Pyrrhus, the son of Achilles. Having 
 made friends with Calasiris, Charicles partly told 
 him, and partly by showing him Chariclea's 
 tokens enabled him to discover for himself (IV. 
 viii), the story given in A. Further, he re- 
 quested the wise Egyptian's aid (II. xxxiii) in 
 persuading Chariclea to take a husband — prefer- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 3 
 
 ably Charicles's nephew Alcamenes. But The- 
 agenes and Chariclea had seen each other at the 
 games and ceremonies, and had already fallen in 
 love with each other (III. v; IV. i-iv). Each 
 now confided in Calasiris (III. xvii; IV. iv, v, 
 x-xiii) ; and an oracle (II. xxxv) and several 
 dreams and divine voices (III. xi; IV. xiv, xvi) 
 predicted their ultimate union, and sanctioned 
 their immediate flight under his protection. 
 While Chariclea therefore upon his advice (IV. 
 xiii) feigned consent to her marriage with Alca- 
 menes, Calasiris took passage for the three (IV. 
 xvi) with some Phoenician mariners who 
 chanced to be sailing from Delphi to Carthage. 
 Under his instructions Theagenes abducted 
 Chariclea, and joined Calasiris (IV. xvii-xviii), 
 who put the pursuers on a false scent (IV. xix). 
 The three sailed away together (V. i). The 
 lovers agreed (IV. xviii) to remain virgin till 
 their nuptials could be formally celebrated, and 
 meanwhile gave themselves out as brother and 
 sister, and Calasiris as their father (V. xxvi). 
 
 B. (b) The captain of the Phoenician vessel 
 became enamored of Chariclea (V. xix), and 
 both she and Calasiris deemed it best to feign 
 consent to the marriage, postponing it, however, 
 till their arrival at Memphis (V. xx). The ship 
 wintering at Zacynthus (V. xviii), our trio 
 lodged with Tyrrhenus a fisherman. Though so 
 near Ithaca, they neglected to pay their respects 
 to Odysseus, whose offended shade appeared in a 
 vision (V. xxii) to threaten Calasiris. Trach- 
 inus, a pirate of the neighborhood, desired both 
 
14 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Chariclea and the richly laden ship, and confided 
 to Tyrrhenus his plan of attack (V. xx). Tyr- 
 rhenus warned his guests, who at once re-em- 
 barked (V. xxi-xxii). Nevertheless Trachinus 
 overtook them, seized the vessel with its freight, 
 and allowing the Tyrian captain and his crew to 
 depart in the boats, kept our trio prisoners (V. 
 xxiv-xxvi). Upon his offering marriage to 
 Chariclea, she again dissembled. A storm drove 
 them to the Heracleotic mouth of the Nile, where 
 they landed, and Trachinus prepared for an im- 
 mediate wedding (V. xxvii-xxix) ; whereupon 
 Calasiris devised a stratagem. He persuaded 
 Pelorus, Trachinus's lieutenant, that Chariclea 
 loved him (V. xxx), and inflamed him with the 
 sight of her in bridal array, so that Pelorus dis- 
 puted w T ith his captain the distribution of the 
 booty, and, as the first to board the captured ship, 
 claimed Chariclea for himself (V. xxxi). The 
 feast turning into a fight, most of the pirates, 
 including Trachinus, were killed; Pelorus in a 
 hand-to-hand combat with Theagenes was sorely 
 wounded and put to flight; and Calasiris was 
 separated from Theagenes and Chariclea, who 
 remained together on the shore (V. xxxii- 
 xxxiii). 
 
 [Here the story opens, in mediis rebus.] 
 
 C. (I. i-iii) While Chariclea tended the 
 wounds of Theagenes, there supervened a small 
 band of Egyption robbers, who seized the pair. 
 Very soon, however, a larger band came up, 
 under the command of one Thyamis. 
 
 D. (I. xix; VII. ii) Thyamis was the eldest 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 5 
 
 son of Calasiris. Shortly after Calasiris's de- 
 parture from Memphis, Arsace, sister of the 
 Great King and wife of Oroondates, had become 
 enamored of Thyamis. She solicited him, but he 
 resisted. His younger brother Petosiris, desiring 
 to succeed instead of Thyamis to the priestly 
 office of his father, traduced Thyamis to Oroon- 
 dates, who banished him from Memphis. Thya- 
 mis had become chief of the bandits known as 
 " Herdsmen." 
 
 E. He now took Theagenes and Chariclea 
 from their first captors, conducted them to his 
 retreat among the marshes of the Delta, treated 
 them honorably (I. v-vii), and proposed to 
 marry Chariclea, who again feigned consent (I. 
 xix-xxvi). Their captivity was lightened by the 
 companionship of Cnemon, a young Athenian, 
 who spent the night in telling them F (a). 
 
 F. (a) (I. ix-xvii) Cnemon was the son of 
 Aristippus, who took Demaeneta as his second 
 wife. Enamored of her stepson, she solicited 
 him, and upon his refusal, plotted to ruin him. 
 First she feigned illness and falsely accused 
 Cnemon of kicking her : thus she had him beaten 
 by his father. Then she made her slave girl 
 Thisbe gain his affection and confidence, and per- 
 suade him to believe that Demaeneta had a para- 
 mour who was to visit her on a certain night. 
 Cnemon with drawn sword broke into the cham- 
 ber and confronted — his father. Aristippus in 
 the belief that his son had attempted parricide 
 accused him to the Assembly, which banished 
 him. The love-sick Demaeneta thereupon re- 
 
1 6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 lented; and desiring his return bitterly blamed 
 Thisbe for having been but too compliant. In 
 fear for herself, Thisbe determined to entrap her 
 mistress. Cnemon, she said, was not abroad, but 
 hiding in the outskirts of Athens, where he kept 
 a slave-girl Arsinoe, a friend of Thisbe's: De- 
 maeneta, if she would, might in the dark take 
 this girl's place. Demaeneta consented to the 
 assignation, and Thisbe actually procured from 
 Arsinoe the use of her house. Meanwhile Thisbe 
 told Aristippus that at Arsinoe's house Demae- 
 neta was to meet a paramour. Aristippus broke 
 in and caught his wife, Thisbe slamming a door 
 and pretending that the lover had escaped. 
 Demaeneta, on the way back to Athens in the 
 custody of her husband, threw herself into a pit 
 and ended her life. Aristippus reported all to 
 the Assembly, which barely exonerated him. 
 
 F. (b) (II. viii-ix) Now it happened that 
 Thisbe ousted Arsinoe from the affections of one 
 Nausicles, a merchant, and Arsinoe in her 
 jealousy revealed her rival's stratagem to De- 
 maeneta's relatives. They brought the matter 
 again before the Assembly, which found that De- 
 maeneta was innocent, and that, as Aristippus 
 had been instrumental in procuring her death, he 
 must be banished and his goods confiscated. 
 The witness he needed to clear him, Thisbe, was 
 absent, having gone abroad with Nausicles. 
 
 F. (c) (VI. ii) These facts came to the 
 knowledge of Cnemon, who, faithful to his 
 father, set out in search of Thisbe in order to 
 reinstate him. Cnemon was captured by pirates, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 7 
 
 but escaped, and made his way to Egypt, where 
 he was taken prisoner by Thyamis. 
 
 G. That night Thyamis dreamed (I. xviii) 
 that Isis in her temple appeared to him and said, 
 "I deliver this maiden to you, but though you 
 have her you shall not have her, but shall kill 
 your guest; yet she shall not be killed." This 
 dream he interpreted to suit his wishes. The 
 next day (I. xxvii-xxx) he was suddenly at- 
 tacked by the robbers who had first seized The- 
 agenes and Chariclea, and who had meanwhile 
 gathered reinforcements. For safety he made 
 Cnemon place Chariclea in the cave where he 
 kept his treasure. Desperately pressed by his 
 enemies, and determined that no one else should 
 have her, he entered the cave, and in the dark 
 stabbed a woman whom he took to be Chariclea. 
 
 H. This woman was really Thisbe (II. xiv). 
 On her travels with Nausicles she had been cap- 
 tured by Thermuthis, the lieutenant of Thyamis, 
 and, like Chariclea, had been placed in the cave. 
 When Cnemon and Theagenes rejoined Chari- 
 clea there, they found on Thisbe's body (II. vi) 
 a letter written by her to Cnemon, whom she had 
 seen to be a fellow-captive, — protesting (II. x) 
 the genuineness of her love for him despite her 
 treachery, and imploring him to save her from 
 her barbarous lover. Cnemon thereupon told 
 F (b) (II. viii-ix). That night (II. xvi) Chari- 
 clea dreamed that a ruffian gouged out her right 
 eye : a dream interpreted by Cnemon as portend- 
 ing the death of her father. 
 K. (I. xxxiii) Thyamis was taken alive by 
 
1 8 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 his enemies, who designed to deliver him to his 
 brother at Memphis for the sake of reward. 
 This reward Petosiris had offered in order 
 both to get Thyamis back into his power and to 
 set at rest the rumor that he had killed Thyamis. 
 
 L. Thermuthis (II. xii) escaped from the 
 hostile band, found Thisbe dead in the cave, 
 joined Theagenes, Chariclea and Cnemon, told 
 them his part of H (II. xiv), and set out in 
 search of Thyamis (II. xviii). He insisted upon 
 Cnemon's bearing him company, who complied, 
 upon Theagenes's suggestion that he might easily 
 desert Thermuthis whenever he would. So 
 Cnemon, agreeing to rejoin Theagenes and 
 Chariclea at the town of Chemmis, went with 
 Thermuthis, but soon, pretending to fall behind 
 by reason of sickness, contrived to leave him 
 alone (II. xix-xx). Thermuthis falling asleep 
 was stung by an asp, and died. Meanwhile, 
 Theagenes and Chariclea, disguised as beggars 
 (II. xix; V. iv), also set out for Chemmis. 
 
 M. (II. xxi) On the banks of the Nile near 
 Chemmis, Cnemon encountered Calasiris, who 
 had wandered thither from the Heracleotic 
 mouth of the Nile (see B ad fin.). Here also 
 Nausicles, in the course of his search for Thisbe, 
 had placed his headquarters, and had taken as a 
 guest Calasiris, similarly engaged in a search for 
 his adopted children (II. xxii). Now Calasiris 
 extended tc Cnemon the shelter of Nausicles's 
 house, and there told Cnemon A and B (a) (II. 
 xxv-xxxvi; III entire; IV entire; V. i). 
 
 N. Nausicles himself was absent (II. xxiv). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 9 
 
 He had bribed Mithranes, the lieutenant of 
 Oroondates, to send a detachment of troops in 
 search of Thisbe, and was now with them. They 
 met (V. v-vii) and captured Theagenes and 
 Chariclea. Mithranes, designing to send The- 
 agenes as a present to the Great King, dispatched 
 him to his commander Oroondates, then at 
 Memphis (V. ix). Chariclea was promptly 
 claimed as Thisbe by Nausicles (V. viii), who 
 whispered to her that her safety depended upon 
 her acknowledging that name. She did so, and 
 Nausicles took her to his house at Chemmis, un- 
 beknown to his guests. That night (V. ii-iii) 
 Cnemon overheard her lamenting her fate and 
 calling herself Thisbe; and he was sore afraid. 
 Next day she was restored to Calasiris (V. xi- 
 xv), to whose claim Nausicles yielded her. 
 Calasiris told B (b) (V. xvi-xxxiv) ; Cnemon, 
 F (c) (VI. ii). _ 
 
 O. (VI. iii-viii) Thyamis managed to make 
 his escape (see K) and to gather another band 
 from the town of Bessa. With this he attacked 
 Mithranes's force, and took Theagenes. These 
 facts were learned by Calasiris, Chariclea, Nau- 
 sicles and Cnemon on their way to redeem 
 Theagenes from Mithranes. They returned to 
 Chemmis. There Nausicles offered Cnemon his 
 daughter to wife. Cnemon took her gladly, and 
 threw in his lot with his father-in-law, who was 
 about to go to Greece. [This is the last of 
 Cnemon and of Nausicles.] 
 
 P. (VI. xi-xv) Calasiris and Chariclea dis- 
 guised as beggars made their way to Bessa to 
 
30 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 find Theagenes. Arriving at sunset, they learned 
 from an old woman that Mithranes had sought to 
 punish the Bessenes for their attack, but had been 
 defeated and killed: and that the insurgents 
 under Thyamis, in order to strengthen themselves 
 against the Great King, from whom they could 
 no longer hope for pardon, had now proceeded 
 to attack Memphis itself — Oroondates being ab- 
 sent upon an expedition into Ethiopia: The- 
 agenes, then, was to be found towards Memphis. 
 The old woman retired, and now believing her- 
 self unobserved, raised the dead body of her 
 son, slain in the fight, and by her spells com- 
 pelled it to prophesy : " She herself should 
 shortly die a violent death ; the priest then pres- 
 ent might if he made haste prevent the fatal 
 outcome of a combat between his sons; the 
 maiden would be united with her lover." Seek- 
 ing to destroy the witnesses to her necromancy, 
 the witch stumbled, and fell upon the point of a 
 spear that stuck up from the field. Thus she 
 died. 
 
 Q. Arrived before the walls of Memphis 
 (VII. i-iii), Thyamis and Theagenes, now 
 grown friends, called for a parley, and demanded 
 Thyamis's restoration to the priesthood. In the 
 absence of Oroondates, his wife Arsace as regent 
 came to the walls, and beheld the two young men. 
 Straightway her old desire of Thyamis gave 
 place to new desire of Theagenes (VII. iv). 
 Yet she so far favored Thyamis as to grant that 
 his quarrel with Petosiris should be decided by 
 single combat between them. Petosiris re- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 21 
 
 luctantly accepted his brother's challenge, tried to 
 run away, and was chased round the walls by 
 Thyamis (VII. v-vi). Theagenes, unarmed, ac- 
 companied Thyamis : so that Arsace became still 
 more passionately enamored of Theagenes's 
 grace as a runner. At the moment when 
 Thyamis was about to strike (VII. vi-vii), 
 arrived Calasiris with Chariclea. The old man 
 threw off his rags, appeared in his sacred garb, 
 stopped the combat, and reconciled his sons. 
 Theagenes not recognizing Chariclea in the 
 beggar-girl before him, rebuffed and struck her 
 when she tried to embrace him; but she mur- 
 mured their countersign Pythius and exhibited 
 her torch: whereupon he knew her and com- 
 pleted this scene of recognition. Received 
 enthusiastically by the Memphians (VII. viii), 
 who flocked about them, they all entered the city 
 in a sort of triumphal procession. 
 
 Calasiris now inducted Thyamis into the 
 priesthood, resigned his own robes, and died 
 (VII. viii, xi), perhaps of joy in this consum- 
 mation. (Thus verifying an oracle he had 
 received upon his arrival at Delphi: that he 
 should soon possess a piece of Egyptian 
 ground.) His funeral rites made it unlaw- 
 ful for any but priests to enter the precincts 
 of the temple for seven days. Thus Thyamis 
 was rendered unable to keep Theagenes and 
 Chariclea there under his own protection, and 
 they were left to the designs of Arsace (VII. 
 ix-xv). She lodged them well in the palace, 
 and, assisted by her old chamber-woman, Cybele, 
 
22 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 who acted as go-between, gradually acquainted 
 Theagenes with her wishes. He repeatedly re- 
 fused her (VII. xix, xxii, xxv) — despite 
 Chariclea's advice (VII. xxi) to him to feign 
 compliance— and at a public audience gave her 
 scant respect. Cybele's son, Achaemenes (VII. 
 xv-xvi), formerly an officer under Mithranes, 
 had been given charge of Theagenes to take him 
 to Oroondates. Now he recognized him; and, 
 seeing Chariclea too, fell in love with her. When 
 his mother, who had failed to persuade The- 
 agenes, was in fear of Arsace's threats, he of- 
 fered Arsace a sure means of forcing Theagenes 
 to comply (VII. xxiii-xxiv), provided she would 
 promise him " Theagenes's sister " to wife. She 
 consented, and he thereupon told her that The- 
 agenes was in reality her slave, as he had been 
 taken in war and destined for her husband to 
 send to her brother the Great King. Arsace 
 now made Theagenes her servant at table. But 
 when she told him that she had granted "his 
 sister " to Achaemenes, he pretended that his re- 
 sistance was overcome (VII. xxv-xxvi), re- 
 quested private audience with only Cybele as wit- 
 ness, revealed Chariclea's real relation to himself, 
 and urged that as Arsace had promised Achae- 
 menes not " Chariclea," but " Theagenes's sister," 
 she might lawfully disavow her supposed 
 promise. He himself, he said, would yield as 
 soon as she did so. Thus he again raised him- 
 self into high favor, still further inflamed Arsace 
 (VII. xxvii) by his grace in serving her at table, 
 and frustrated Achaemenes. Informed by his 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 23 
 
 mother (VII. xxviii), Achaemenes at once posted 
 off to Oroondates (VII. xxix) who was then 
 preparing a campaign against the Ethiopians in 
 re the still unsettled question of Philae and the 
 emerald mines (see A). Him he told of Chari- 
 clea's beauty, and of Arsace's conduct toward 
 Theagenes. Oroondates forthwith sent peremp- 
 torily for both the prisoners (VIII. i-iii). 
 
 Meanwhile Theagenes had resumed his resist- 
 ance, and at the instigation of Cybele had been 
 imprisoned and flogged (VIII. iii, v-vi) by order 
 of Arsace. It was in vain that Thyamis (VIII. 
 iii-v), now at liberty after the period of ritual 
 seclusion, requested Arsace to turn the lovers 
 over to his care. She declined to give them up. 
 Theagenes in his cell continually called upon the 
 name of Chariclea (VIII. vi) ; whereat Cybele 
 conceived the idea that if Chariclea were put out 
 of the way, Theagenes would yield. With 
 Arsace's permission, therefore (VIII. vii-viii), 
 she attempted to poison Chariclea. But the 
 slave-girl who offered the cups accidentally inter- 
 changed them, and Cybele drank the poison. Yet 
 even as she died, her malice worked : by signs 
 she charged Chariclea with poisoning her. 
 Arsace had Chariclea imprisoned (VIII. ix) and 
 on the next day arraigned; who defied her, but 
 declared that if Theagenes were, as she supposed, 
 dead, she would acknowledge the crime, that 
 she too might die. Thereupon she was con- 
 demned to the stake. But the stone Pantarbe 
 in her ring kept her unscathed in the midst of 
 the flames. Pitying her beauty and manifest 
 
24 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 innocence, the people rescued her; but Arsace 
 recaptured her and harangued them to the effect 
 that she had been saved by witchcraft only : next 
 day they should come and themselves should have 
 an opportunity to condemn her upon all the evi- 
 dence. Meanwhile, as an additional torment, that 
 she might behold her lover's sad plight, she was 
 committed to the cell occupied by Theagenes ; but 
 they regarded this course as a favor, and spent 
 the night in talk. Chariclea related (VIII. xi) 
 that on the previous night Calasiris had appeared 
 to her in a vision and bidden her be of good 
 cheer, for Pantarbe would save her. Theagenes 
 related that Calasiris had on the same night ap- 
 peared to him and predicted that on the morrow 
 the lovers should escape and soon reach Ethiopia. 
 The fulfilment of the first prediction made them 
 look confidently for that of the second. 
 
 Indeed, that very night (VIII. xii-xv) 
 Oroondates's deputy arrived, and, showing his 
 authority, removed the prisoners and conducted 
 them towards Oroondates. On the way a mes- 
 senger overtook them to announce that Arsace 
 upon learning of their removal had killed her- 
 self. Later a messenger from the front met 
 them with the news that Oroondates had gone to 
 Syene, which was threatened by the enemy 
 (VIII. xvi-xvii). Travelling in that direction, 
 the lovers were shortly captured by a scouting 
 party of Ethiopians, who conveyed them to the 
 army of Hydaspes. 
 
 Hydaspes was besieging Oroondates in Syene 
 (IX. i-xxii). By means of great trenches and 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 25 
 
 earthen dykes he surrounded the city with the 
 waters of the Nile, which, insulating it, rose 
 against its walls, and threatened to break through 
 and drown the inhabitants. Oroondates capitu- 
 lated, offering to surrender Syene, as well as 
 Philae and the emerald mines, and to undertake 
 no further hostilities, if he were allowed to de- 
 part with his army to Elephantis. Meanwhile 
 he dispatched two messengers thither. Pending 
 negotiations, Hydaspes granted a truce, and by 
 new feats of engineering led off the waters of 
 the Nile. Then, by night, Oroondates and his 
 army treacherously made their escape by means 
 of planks laid across the mud-ring, and at Ele- 
 phantis joined the main force of Persians, pre- 
 pared by the messengers he had sent. Returning 
 with all his troops, he retook Syene, which was 
 guarded by only a small garrison. Then 
 Hydaspes fought a great battle, and defeated and 
 captured Oroondates, but spared him, forgave his 
 treachery, and (IX. xxv) made him Viceroy 
 under himself. 
 
 With the other prisoners Theagenes and Chari- 
 clea (IX. xxiii-xxiv) were presented to Hy- 
 daspes, who by reason of their exceeding beauty 
 reserved them to be sacrificed when they should 
 reach Ethiopia. Chariclea, — though Theagenes 
 urged her, and though Hydaspes related a dream 
 he had had which showed him a daughter of his 
 own like Chariclea in appearance, — would not 
 then disclose her identity. She was determined 
 to wait till she should be in her mother's pres- 
 ence, whose instinct could not fail to identify her. 
 
26 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Here and now her tokens might be misunder- 
 stood, and might be supposed to be stolen. 
 
 To Meroe, then, the prisoners were taken — 
 Hydaspes's capital; where they were met by 
 Persina, with the priestly gymnosophists, and 
 great numbers of the Ethiopian people (X. i-vi), 
 all rejoicing in the victory. When led forth to 
 the sacrifice, Theagenes and Chariclea (X. vii) 
 astonished all by their beauty and courageous 
 bearing. Chariclea particularly appealed to the 
 sympathy of Persina, who hoped that in the trial 
 of chastity which was to establish the purity of 
 the victims she might fail and so be saved. Not 
 so (X. viii, ix) : she leaped upon the heated 
 golden bars of the altar, but remained unscathed. 
 So too did Theagenes. And now the president 
 of the gymnosophists — no other than old Sisi- 
 mithres — declined to make, or to countenance by 
 his presence, a human sacrifice, and with his band 
 was about to withdraw, when Chariclea (X. 
 x-xv), hearing the King address him as Sisi- 
 mithres, saw that the moment had come, and 
 begged him to remain. In his presence she then 
 disclosed her identity; offering in evidence her 
 inscribed fillets, which Persina acknowledged at 
 once; her striking resemblance to the pictured 
 Andromeda ; the ring Pantarbe, which Hydaspes 
 recognized as the bethrothal ring he had given his 
 wife; and a black mark which Sisimithres re- 
 membered to have seen on the arm of the child 
 he had found. Chariclea (X. xi) claimed ex- 
 emption, for that only foreigners might be 
 sacrificed. Hydaspes, only too ready to grant it 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 27 
 
 upon personal motives, yet felt obliged to offer, 
 in a long speech to his people, to sacrifice his 
 daughter nevertheless for their sake, lest the gods 
 be wroth with them all. But the multitude 
 unanimously refused (X. xvi, xvii). Thus was 
 Chariclea saved. 
 
 In the most absurdly mock-modest, round- 
 about, underhand, and self-contradictory fashion, 
 she proceeded (X. xviii-xxii) to give her parents 
 incomprehensible hints about her true relations 
 with Theagenes — now imploring his preserva- 
 tion, now demanding that she alone might wield 
 the knife to sacrifice him — until Hydaspes 
 actually thought her mad. To give her time to 
 recover, he took the opportunity to receive the 
 ambassadors who had come to congratulate him. 
 One of them was his nephew Meroebus (X. 
 xxiii-xxiv), whom he at once bethrothed to 
 Chariclea. Meroebus presented to Hydaspes a 
 gigantic athlete (X. xxv) — a champion racer, 
 boxer and wrestler, — whose challenge nobody ac- 
 cepting, he received a prize by default. Among 
 the other gifts was a camelopard (X. xviii-xxx). 
 This strange and terrifying creature so frightened 
 a sacrificial bull and two white horses that they 
 broke loose and galloped about. In the con- 
 fusion, Theagenes, whose keepers had relaxed 
 their guard, leaped upon one of the horses, and, 
 without attempting to escape, pursued the bull 
 and drove him in a team with his own mount; at 
 length, having tired him out, he leaped upon him 
 and dragged him to the ground by the horns. 
 The people shouted acclaim, and demanded that 
 
28 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 he be matched with the wrestler. Him too he 
 felled (X. xxxi-xxxii). The King then 
 crowned Theagenes victor, who made the same 
 petition as Chariclea had made, — that she be the 
 one to wield the knife. This request was re- 
 fused, and he was being led to the altar (X. 
 xxxiii), when who should appear but Charicles! 
 Ever since Chariclea's elopement he had been 
 wandering in search of her, and had now traced 
 her to Egypt, whence he had taken this last step 
 by the aid of Oroondates, from whom he bore 
 (X. xxxiv) a letter to Hydaspes. Seizing 
 Theagenes (X. xxxv-xxxvi), Charicles de- 
 manded his punishment for the abduction of 
 Chariclea and the sacrilege done to the temple of 
 Diana at Delphi! Theagenes admitted the 
 charge (X. xxxvii). Chariclea welcomed Chari- 
 cles (X. xxxviii), and begged him to punish her 
 for her disobedience to him, enjoined though it 
 was by the gods. -Persina, now convinced that 
 our lovers were man and wife, so assured 
 Hydaspes. He turned for advice to Sismithres, 
 who in a loud voice, that the people might hear 
 and approve (X. xxxix-xli), declared that the 
 gods had manifested clearly their unwillingness 
 to receive this or any other human sacrifice: let 
 the custom, then, be abolished, and this young 
 couple be formally wedded. The people again 
 shouted approval ; and so, with the consent of all, 
 Theagenes and Chariclea proceeded to the cele- 
 bration of their nuptial rites. 
 
elizabethan prose fiction 29 
 
 Longus : 
 Daphnis and Chloe 
 
 Preface (Prooemium) 
 
 Hunting on Lesbos, I saw in a beautiful grove 
 a painting representing the incidents of a love- 
 story, — " the fortunes of Love " : women in labor, 
 nurses swathing new-born babes; infants ex- 
 posed; animals suckling them; shepherds carry- 
 ing them away; young people embracing; an 
 attack by pirates; an inroad by a hostile force. 
 I procured an explanation of the series, and 
 wrote out these four books — an offering to the 
 God of Love, to the Nymphs, and to Pan. 
 
 Book I 
 
 i-iii. Lamon, a goatherd upon an estate near 
 Mitylene, found in a thicket one of his she-goats 
 suckling a boy-baby, who lay exposed in a very 
 rich mantle, with a little ivory-hilted sword. He 
 took the boy with the tokens home to his wife 
 Myrtale, who agreed with him to adopt the child. 
 They named him Daphnis. iv-vi. Two years 
 later Dryas, a neighboring shepherd, found in a 
 cave sacred to the Nymphs, one of his ewes 
 suckling a girl-baby, who besides swaddling 
 clothes had gilt sandals, golden anklets and a 
 head-dress wrought with gold. He took her 
 with her tokens to his wife, and they adopted 
 her, calling her Chloe. 
 
 vii-x. When Daphnis was fifteen and Chloe 
 
30 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 thirteen, their adoptive fathers had on the same 
 night a vision of a winged boy with bow and 
 arrows, to whom the Nymphs presented Daphnis 
 and Chloe, and who, touching them with one of 
 his shafts, bade them follow the pastoral life. 
 So they tended their flocks together in the 
 springtime, and played in childlike peace, until 
 Love contrived a serious interruption, xi-xii. 
 Daphnis pursuing a goat fell into a pit that had 
 been dug to catch a wolf, and was rescued by 
 Chloe with the help of a cowherd. He was so 
 covered with mud and dirt that he must needs 
 bathe. [xiii-xvii. As Chloe helped to wash 
 him, she saw the beauty of his sunburned skin and 
 felt the softness of his flesh, and so first experi- 
 enced love. She languished, lay awake, took no 
 food, and soliloquized with many antitheses and 
 oxymora. 
 
 Dorco the cowherd became enamored of Chloe, 
 gave her many rustic gifts, and at length vied 
 with Daphnis in argument as to whether Daphnis 
 or he were the more beautiful — the prize to be a 
 kiss from Chloe. Daphnis was the winner; and 
 the kiss set his heart on fire. He too languished 
 and grew pale; he too soliloquized] with (xviii) 
 much oxymoron. 
 
 xix-xxii. Dorco asked Dryas for the hand of 
 Chloe, but was refused, as Dryas hoped for a 
 better match. Thus thwarted, Dorco resolved to 
 carry off Chloe, and, in order to terrify her, 
 clothed himself in a wolf's skin and hid among 
 
 6 The passage between brackets is the fragment discovered 
 by P. L. Courier in 1807 ; and is of course unknown to the 
 Renaissance. It is D, p. 135, 1. 13-p. 137, L 21, both included. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 3 1 
 
 the bushes near her pasture-ground. But her 
 dogs scenting him attacked and bit him sorely, 
 before Chloe, and Daphnis whom she had called, 
 could come to his rescue. Both Daphnis and 
 Chloe thought the disguise merely an innocent 
 jest on the part of Dorco. They collected their 
 flocks, which had been scattered by the barking 
 of the dogs, and, tired by the day's exertion, 
 slept soundly that night despite their lovesickness. 
 
 xxiii-xxvii. Now Daphnis and Chloe again 
 tended their flocks together in the growing sum- 
 mer heat, which still further inflamed them. 
 Chloe milked her ewes and she-goats, and 
 crowned herself with a chaplet of pine. Daphnis 
 bathed, and Chloe put on his dress. They pelted 
 each other with apples. Daphnis taught Chloe 
 to play upon his pipe, and gained kisses at second 
 hand by touching quickly with his lips the places 
 her lips had touched. Once when Chloe fell 
 asleep at noonday, a grasshopper pursued by a 
 swallow dropped into her bosom, and the swallow 
 fluttering over her awoke her. She screamed; 
 but Daphnis laughed at her alarm, and with his 
 hand took out the happy grasshopper, which she 
 kissed and replaced in her bosom. At the sound 
 of a ring-dove's cooing, Daphnis told Chloe the 
 legend: how the dove was once a maiden, a 
 tender of flocks, sweet-voiced ; and how a youth 
 contending with her in song charmed away eight 
 of her cows. She prayed to be transformed into 
 a bird; the gods granted her prayer; and still 
 she calls her cows, in vain. 
 
 xxviii-xxx. In the early autumn, some 
 
32 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Tyrian pirates descended upon that coast. After 
 a struggle with Dorco they ,drove off some of 
 his oxen; and finding Daphnis alone upon the 
 shore, carried him away too, calling upon Chloe 
 for help. She ran to Dorco, who, sore wounded 
 and about to breathe his last, gave her his pipe, 
 with the direction to play upon it the call his 
 oxen knew. Then he died, taking one kiss from 
 her as his reward. Chloe played the well-known 
 tune; whereupon the oxen thronged to one side 
 of the pirate ship and leapt overboard, capsizing 
 it and precipitating the crew and Daphnis into 
 the water. The pirates, weighed down with their 
 armor, soon drowned; Daphnis, lightly clad, 
 swam ashore between two oxen, grasping a horn 
 of each. 
 
 xxxi-xxxii. They celebrated in rustic fashion 
 the funeral of Dorco. Then Chloe bathed 
 Daphnis, and for the first time in his presence 
 bathed herself ; so that he was nigh distracted. 
 
 Book II 
 
 i-ii. Now came the vintage ; and Daphnis and 
 Chloe left their flocks and helped. The women 
 admired Daphnis, the men Chloe, who both 
 wished themselves back at the herding. At 
 length, when the grapes were all trodden and the 
 new wine stored in casks, they returned, and 
 rejoiced with their flocks. An old man named 
 Philetas, sitting near, accosted them, and told 
 them this Idyll : 
 
 iii-vi. " I have a beautiful garden. Today 
 when I entered it about noon, I spied a little 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 33 
 
 naked boy under my pomegranates and myrtles, 
 some of which he had plucked. I sprang to 
 catch him, but lightly he escaped; and when I 
 paused exhausted, he came near and smiled so 
 irresistibly that I offered him the freedom of my 
 garden for a kiss. Laughing he replied : ' One 
 kiss from me would only make you run after me 
 for more ; and in vain, for you could never catch 
 me. Child though I seem, I am older than 
 Saturn or old Time ; and I have known you, 
 Philetas, of old. I was by when you wooed 
 Amaryllis: she and your sons were my gifts to 
 you. Through me it is that your garden blooms. 
 But just now I am shepherding Daphnis and 
 Chloe/ Like a young nightingale he sprang up 
 among the myrtles, and vanished, but not before 
 I saw wings upon his shoulders, and a bow and 
 arrows between. Depend upon it, you are con- 
 secrated to Love." 
 
 vii-xi. " What is this Love ? " they asked, " a 
 child or a bird?" 
 
 Philetas answered in praise of Love, telling of 
 his dominion over all nature and over the gods 
 themselves; of the pains he inflicts: heat, cold, 
 and desire, loss of appetite and of sleep; and of 
 the remedies: to kiss, embrace, and lie naked 
 together. Hereon they mused; and, when 
 Philetas had gone and they had returned home, 
 they realized, each of them, that the symptoms he 
 had described were their own. Next morning 
 they tried for the first time the first two remedies, 
 and on the following day a literal version of the 
 third, but without avail. 
 
34 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 xii-xix. At this time some young men of 
 Methymne came to spend the vintage in hunting 
 and fishing along this coast. A peasant having 
 stolen the cable wherewith they had moored their 
 boat, they substituted a twisted willow-withe. 
 The chase frightened Daphnis's goats down to 
 the shore, where finding no other food they 
 gnawed through the osier ; so that a rising swell 
 carried away the boat and its contents. The 
 youths found Daphnis, gave him a beating, and 
 were preparing to bind him, when Lamon and 
 Dryas appeared in answer to his cries, and in- 
 sisted upon a fair hearing for both sides. Phi- 
 letas as the oldest man present was chosen as 
 judge, and, having heard the youths and Daphnis 
 plead their cause, decided for Daphnis. En- 
 raged, the Methymnaeans seized Daphnis again, 
 but were beaten off by the countrymen and had to 
 make their painful way home on foot. There 
 they told as much of the story as favored them- 
 selves, and incited their fellow citizens to make 
 war on the Lesbians. 
 
 xx-xxiv. The invaders with a fleet ravaged the 
 coast, seized Daphnis's herds and carried off 
 Chloe — though she had fled for asylum to the 
 grotto of the Nymphs, where she had first been 
 found. Daphnis not finding her at their usual 
 haunts lamented her to the Nymphs, who reas- 
 sured him in a vision, promising the aid of Pan, 
 to whom they recommended him now to pay 
 due honors. So he did, and returned home. 
 
 xxv-xxx. During that night and the next day 
 the Methymnaean fleet was beset with Panic 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 35 
 
 terrors: the earth appeared to be in a blaze, 
 hostile vessels seemed to approach with clashing 
 oars, the goats' horns were wreathed with ivy, 
 the sheep howled like wolves, Chloe herself was 
 garlanded with pine-branches; anchors stuck, 
 oars were split, dolphins leapt from the sea and 
 shattered the vessel's planks; and from the top 
 of a neighboring headland were heard the terrific 
 notes of Pan's own pipe. At length Pan himself 
 addressing the commander in a dream bade him 
 restore Chloe and the goats and sheep, which 
 being immediately landed, Pan's pipes guided, 
 now playing a sweet pastoral measure, over this 
 strange country back to Daphnis. 
 
 xxxi-xxxiii. Daphnis and Chloe gratefully 
 sacrificed to the Nymphs and to Pan; Lamon 
 and Dryas, Philetas and his young son Tityrus 
 assisting at the feast. Each of the participants 
 contributed to the entertainment. xxxiv. 
 Lamon related the legend of Pan and Syrinx, and 
 of the invention of the pipes of Pan. xxxv. 
 Philetas on his own great pipe played all the 
 varieties of pastoral melody — the tune for oxen, 
 the tune for goats, the tune for sheep — and 
 finally the vintage-dance, xxxvi. This Dryas 
 danced in pantomime, imitating every process of 
 the vintage, xxxvii-xxxix. Then Daphnis and 
 Chloe in pantomimic dance enacted Pan and 
 Syrinx — Daphnis at length playing so sweetly 
 upon Philetas' pipe his lamentation for the 
 Nymph transformed, that Philetas bestowed 
 upon him the pipe. Daphnis dedicated his old 
 boyish pipe as an offering to Pan; and with 
 
36 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Chloe driving homeward their flocks and herds, 
 so ended the day. Next morning they met 
 earlier than usual, again tried in vain the reme- 
 dies of love, and vowed mutual fidelity. 
 
 Book III 
 
 i-iii. Mitylene now sent an army against 
 Methymne, which, by this time, discovering the 
 true cause of the fray to have been the insolence 
 of her own young men, asked for peace and 
 offered to restore all the spoils — an offer which 
 was at once accepted. "Thus did the war be- 
 tween Methymne and Mitylene begin and end in 
 an equally unexpected manner." 
 
 iv-xi. Now winter came, and snow blocked 
 the roads and shut the cottagers within doors 
 to their fireside occupations. Chloe was kept at 
 the spinning and the wool-carding, but Daphnis 
 went abroad to snare birds in the trees near 
 Chloe's cottage, hoping for a pretext to enter 
 and see her. When he had snared a bagful 
 without seeing a sign of life from within, he was 
 just about to depart when Dryas himself — in 
 chase of a sheep-dog that had stolen his meat — 
 came out and heartily invited Daphnis in. 
 Daphnis and Chloe met and embraced ; she served 
 wine, herself sipping first, and he drank at the 
 spot her lips had touched. Then they all sat 
 by the fire, and at length Lamon and Myrtale 
 invited Daphnis to remain till the morrow. He 
 gladly accepted, and gave them his bag of birds 
 for supper. So they sat round the fire again, 
 drinking and singing and telling stories till bed- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 37 
 
 time. Next day Daphnis and Chloe snared birds 
 together, and again exchanged vows, and told 
 of their longing for the spring. Then Daphnis 
 took his leave, but often thereafter contrived 
 occasion for new visits. 
 
 xii-xx. At last came spring once more, all 
 living creatures loved, and Daphnis and Chloe, 
 themselves shepherded by Love, went forth 
 before all the other shepherds, that they might 
 be together alone. Daphnis now grown bolder 
 in love tried to treat Chloe as he saw the rams 
 treat the ewes, and the he-goats their mates, but 
 still in vain. And now Lycaenium, the young 
 city wife of their old neighbor Chromis, gave 
 Daphnis a lesson in love. This however he 
 would not practice with Chloe, fearing to hurt 
 her. 
 
 xxi-xxiii. As they sat together, a fishing-boat 
 passed near them, the boatswain and the sailors 
 singing a rowing song and chorus, which the 
 echo prolonged and redoubled. "Was there 
 another sea behind the hill, and other sailors 
 singing?" Chloe asked when all was still 
 again. Daphnis smiling told her the legend of 
 Echo— stipulating for a reward of ten kisses: 
 ' Echo, the daughter of a nymph and of a mortal, 
 learned from the Muses every kind of music. 
 She refused marriage, and fled the sight of men. 
 Pan in his indignation inspired the shepherds 
 with such frenzy that they tore her limb from 
 limb. Her melodious body, though covered with 
 earth, still preserves its gift of music, and imi- 
 tates all sounds, even those of the pipes of Pan,— 
 
38 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 who, when he hears her, rushes over the hills 
 to find his hidden pupil.' Chloe gave him kisses 
 not ten but a thousand. 
 
 xxv-xxix. This summer Chloe had many 
 suitors, who offered rich gifts ; but Dryas still 
 postponed a decision, in the hope of a more 
 brilliant match, — aware as he was that Chloe 
 was something above a shepherd's daughter. 
 Daphnis in distress at the chance of losing her, 
 desired to ask her hand, but his foster-parents 
 also disapproved, wishing to reserve him for a 
 less humble bride. Moreover, Daphnis himself 
 was poor. Now he prayed to the Nymphs, who 
 in a vision told him that the boat of the young 
 Methymnaeans had been driven ashore and 
 wrecked, leaving a purse of three thousand 
 drachmas under a bunch of seaweed near a dead 
 dolphin, the smell of which had kept others from 
 finding the treasure. This very smell guided 
 Daphnis to it, who boldly offered it to Dryas as 
 his wooing gift. 
 
 xxx-xxxiv. Dryas accepted, and went to gain 
 the consent of Lamon. This Lamon gave, sub- 
 ject to the consent of his master, who was ex- 
 pected from Mitylene in the autumn to visit his 
 estate. Joyfully Dryas returned and told the 
 news to Daphnis, joyfully Daphnis received it 
 and ran to tell Chloe. Her he found at the 
 milking and cheese-making, wherein he helped 
 her openly, as her affianced ; and then they went 
 together to look for fruit. One bright particular 
 apple, golden and fragrant, and solitary on the 
 top of the tree, Daphnis climbed for, and plucked, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 39 
 
 and gave to Chloe ; and she gave him a kiss more 
 precious than a golden apple. 
 
 Book IV 
 
 i-vi. In preparation for his master's visit, now 
 announced definitely by a neighbor, Lamon set in 
 order his house and his garden. Soon another 
 messenger, Eudromus, came with orders for them 
 to get in the vintage: at the end of the vintage 
 the master would come. Daphnis gave Eudro- 
 mus many gifts, who returned to Mitylene well 
 pleased. 
 
 vii-x. Lampis an insolent herdsman, and an 
 envious wooer of Chloe, desiring to destroy 
 Lamon's interest with his master and so spoil 
 her match with Daphnis, broke into Lamon's 
 garden at night, and uprooted, broke, or trampled 
 down the flowers. All were in despair until 
 Eudromus — coming to announce the arrival of 
 the master in three days, and that of his son the 
 next day — counselled them to tell the whole to 
 their young master Astylus. Astylus, who in 
 fact came next day with Gnatho his parasite, 
 heard the story, and promised to intercede for 
 them with his father, — promised indeed to lay 
 the blame upon his own horses, which he would 
 say had done the damage. 
 
 xi-xii. Gnatho now made paederastic pro- 
 posals to Daphnis, who knocked him down. Still 
 Gnatho hoped to obtain him as a gift from 
 Astylus. 
 
 xiii-xv. Meanwhile, Dionysophanes and Clear- 
 ista arrived, and, well pleased with what they 
 
40 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 saw — for they excused the condition of the gar- 
 den — promised Lamon his freedom. Then they 
 inspected the herd of goats, which they found to 
 have prospered under Daphnis's charge, and they 
 listened while Daphnis put the goats through a 
 drill, to the sound of his pipe. 
 
 xvi-xvii. Gnatho now with arguments in favor 
 of paederasty asked Daphnis of Astylus, who 
 promised to beg him of Dionysophanes. xviii. 
 This conversation, overheard by Eudromus and 
 reported to Lamon, determined the latter to re- 
 veal the circumstances of the finding of Daphnis. 
 xix-xx. Accordingly, upon Dionysophanes send- 
 ing for Lamon and telling him that Daphnis 
 would accompany Astylus, Lamon told his story 
 and produced the tokens, xxi-xxiii. These 
 Dionysophanes and Clearista recognized as hav- 
 ing been exposed with their own youngest child ; 
 and Astylus at once ran for Daphnis. Fearing 
 that he was to be treated with violence, Daphnis 
 ran to a cliff, ready to throw himself into the sea ; 
 but his brother reassured him, and brought him 
 to their father, who told them the story of the 
 exposure : xxiv. Having married young he had 
 had a daughter and two sons — with which issue 
 being content, he had exposed his fourth child; 
 but the daughter and one son soon thereafter had 
 died on the same day, leaving Astylus the only 
 survivor: so that the parents now rejoiced at 
 finding Daphnis again. 
 
 xxv-xxix. Daphnis still performed his duties 
 as herdsman. While his friends and parents 
 feasted, and while he said farewell to each of his 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 4 1 
 
 pastoral implements and occupations, Chloe 
 wept, fearing that he would forsake her. 
 Lampis seeing his opportunity and certain that 
 Daphnis would not marry her, gathered a band of 
 rustics and was carrying her off, when Gnatho 
 rescued her, in the hope of thus conciliating 
 Daphnis; who did indeed forgive him when 
 Chloe was restored. 
 
 xxx-xxxiii. Daphnis now proposed to marry 
 Chloe secretly: but Dryas published the circum- 
 stances under which he had found her. With 
 a view to the happiness of Daphnis, his parents 
 consented to the marriage, and received Chloe, 
 and arrayed her splendidly. She too said fare- 
 well to her flock, and hung up her pipe, her scrip, 
 her cloak, and her milking-pails ; and with the 
 others went to the city. 
 
 xxxiv-xxxvi. There, on the eve of the mar- 
 riage-feast, the Nymphs and Love appeared to 
 Dionysophanes, bidding him exhibit Chloe's 
 tokens to each of the wedding-guests. So he 
 did, and they were acknowledged by Megacles, a 
 man of high rank in Mitylene. He told the 
 story of Chloe's exposure : She had been born at 
 a time when his wealth had been exhausted ; and 
 he had exposed her in the hope that some 
 wealthier person might adopt her. Then his 
 riches had increased, when he had no heir; but 
 the gods had continually sent him dreams signify- 
 ing that a ewe would make him a father ! With 
 great joy he received Chloe for his daughter. 
 
 xxxvii-xl. Next morning they all returned to 
 the country ; for Daphnis and Chloe were tired of 
 
42 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the city, and wished a rustic wedding. And so 
 did they celebrate it, with pastoral splendor ; and 
 at last, too, found the remedy of Love ! To Love, 
 to Pan, and to the Nymphs, indeed, they con- 
 secrated their lives; and their first child, a boy, 
 was suckled by a goat; their second, a girl, by 
 a ewe. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 43 
 
 Achilles Tatius: 
 
 Clitophon and Leucippe 
 
 Book I 
 
 i. (Sidon described: its double harbor.) 
 Arriving in Sidon after a storm, I made a thank- 
 offering to Astarte, and then went about the city 
 and looked at other offerings. There I saw a 
 picture of Europa. (Picture of Europa de- 
 scribed.) ii. I exclaimed upon the power of 
 Love, which could master even Zeus; where- 
 upon a young man standing by declared that he 
 had himself experienced that power. We re- 
 tired to the banks of a stream in a grove of 
 plane-trees, where he told his story: 
 
 iii. I am Clitophon, the son of Hippias of 
 Tyre. My mother died when I was an infant. 
 My father marrying again had a daughter Calli- 
 gone, to whom he wished to marry me ; but Fate 
 decreed otherwise. (Disquisition on fate as pre- 
 figured by dreams, which enable men not to avoid 
 it but only to dull the edge of their suffering.) 
 When I was nineteen years old, Fortune began 
 the drama I shall relate. I dreamed one night 
 that my body from the middle downward was one 
 with the body of a maiden, and that a woman of 
 horrible aspect, with a sickle in her right hand 
 and a torch in her left, cut us apart. This 
 dream I regarded as a portent. My father had 
 a rich half-brother, Sostratus, in Byzantium, 
 from whom there now came a letter, recommend- 
 ing to my father's care during a war between 
 
44 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Thrace and Byzantium, the writer's wife Panthea 
 and daughter Leucippe. iv. The ladies arrived 
 immediately ; and at first sight of Leucippe I fell 
 in love with her. (Leucippe described. Love 
 enters at the eyes.) v-vi. At supper I gazed 
 and could eat nothing, but feasted my eyes like 
 one banqueting in a dream. Thus I languished 
 three days. vii. My cousin Clinias, two years 
 older than I, a love-adept, I had always teased 
 about his passion; but now I sought him and 
 confessed that he had been right in predicting 
 that I too should sometime be love's slave. 
 From the symptoms of my vigil he at once con- 
 cluded that I really was in love. While we were 
 conversing, enter Clinias's favorite Charicles, to 
 whom Clinias had recently given a horse. Chari- 
 cles told us that his father wished him to marry 
 a rich and ugly woman, viii. Thereupon Clinias 
 burst into an invective against women and against 
 marriage ; but Charicles, as his marriage was not 
 to take place for several days, put away thoughts 
 of that calamity, and went to race his new horse 
 — to take what was to prove both his first and 
 his last ride. 
 
 ix-xi. I resumed my complaint to Clinias, who 
 gave me explicit instructions in both the theory 
 and the practice of love. (Ars Amatoria.) "All 
 very well," said I, "but here success may be 
 worse than failure : being betrothed to my father's 
 choice, I cannot wed Leucippe even if I win her. 
 I am torn between necessity and nature, I must 
 decide between Love and my father; and Love 
 with his arrows and his fire coerces the judge." 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 45 
 
 xii. At this point a slave rushed in, and re- 
 ported that Charicles had been killed by a fall 
 from his horse: After running two or three 
 courses, he had let go the reins, and, still seated, 
 was wiping the sweat from the horse's back, 
 when upon a sudden noise the horse ran furiously 
 away, rushed haphazard into a wood, dashed his 
 rider off against a tree, and trampled him as he 
 lay entangled in the reins. (Detailed description 
 of the horse in action : he is like a ship in a storm ; 
 his hind feet try to overtake his forefeet, etc., 
 etc.) xiii. Clinias, at first struck dumb by sor- 
 row, now uttered loud cries; and we went to 
 where the body had been carried — all one wound. 
 Charicles's father lamented : " 111 betide all horse- 
 manship ! Others who die, though their soul be 
 fled, preserve at least the beautiful semblance of 
 their body — some poor solace to the mourner; 
 but in thee Fortune has destroyed both soul and 
 body, and thou hast died a double death. What 
 now shall be thy wedding-day ? Thou hast gone 
 from bridal to burial; malignant Fortune has 
 quenched the marriage torch, and instead the 
 funeral torch shall be kindled for thee." xiv. 
 Clinias, vying with the father in grief, exclaimed : 
 1 Tis I that have caused his death : to this beau- 
 tiful youth I gave a savage brute. I decked the 
 murderer with gold. Beast ! insensible to beauty, 
 ungrateful to him that fondled and fed thee ! " 
 
 xv. When the funeral was over, I hastened to 
 Leucippe, who was in the garden (Garden elabo- 
 rately described) with a slave Clio, looking at 
 the peacock, xvi-xix. Just then he spread his 
 tail and showed the amphitheatre of his feathers ; 
 
46 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 this I made the occasion of my speech, as I 
 wished to lead Leucippe's thoughts to love. 
 " The bird," I said to a slave Satyrus, " spreads 
 his tail to attract his mate there under the plane- 
 tree: it is for her that he displays the field of 
 his feathers. But his field is more blooming 
 than the meadow itself; for it has gold, and 
 purple rings, and an eye in each ring." Falling 
 in with my purpose, Satyrus asked ; " Can love 
 kindle even the birds ? " " Why not," I answered, 
 " when he himself is winged? More than that, — 
 he kindles reptiles and beasts, plants and stones. 
 The magnet loves the iron ; the male palm droops 
 for love of the female, and his pangs are allayed 
 when the husbandman engrafts upon his heart a 
 shoot from her. So of waters: Alpheus crosses 
 the sea to Arethusa, bringing to her as wedding- 
 gifts the objects cast into his waters by cele- 
 brants at Olympia. As for serpents — the viper, 
 amorous of the lamprey, ejects his poison; and 
 then they embrace." Leucippe seemed to listen 
 not unwillingly to this amatory discourse. Her 
 beauty surpassed that of the peacock, and vied 
 with that of the meadow; her complexion was 
 like the narcissus, her cheeks like the rose, her 
 eyes like the violet, her hair like tendrils of ivy : 
 so that " there was a garden in her face." Soon 
 she went away to practise upon the harp; and 
 Satyrus and I congratulated each other upon our 
 tact. 
 
 Book II 
 
 i. We followed, to hear her performance. 
 She sang first Homer's combat of the lion and 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 47 
 
 the ^ boar (II. XVI. 823; B 371 n.), then the 
 praises of the rose ; and as she sang, I seemed to 
 see a rose upon her lips, as if the flower's cup 
 had been changed into them, ii-iii. We pro- 
 ceeded to supper. It was the feast of Dionysus 
 patron of the vintage, whom the Tyrians claim 
 for their own god. (Legend of the origin of 
 wine.) On the table was a crystal winecup, of 
 beautiful workmanship : from the vines engraved 
 upon it hung clusters of grapes, unripe and green 
 when it was empty, ripe and red when it was 
 filled: and among them was Bacchus himself 
 as vine-dresser. As the wine warmed us, Leu- 
 cippe and I gazed more boldly at each other ; for 
 wine is the food of Love. Eros kindles the 
 flame, and Bacchus feeds it. 
 
 Thus ten days passed, neither of us obtaining, 
 or even seeking, aught but glances, iv. Then I 
 confided in Satyrus, who said he had known my 
 secret, but for fear of offending me had dis- 
 sembled his knowledge. "Chance favors us," 
 he continued, " for I have an amorous under- 
 standing with Clio, who has charge of Leucippe's 
 chamber. But now you must do more than look. 
 (Ars Amatoria.) Take courage, Eros is no 
 coward; see how he is armed with bow and 
 quiver, arrows and fire, all virile and daring. I 
 will arrange with Clio to give you an interview 
 alone with Leucippe." v-vi. He departed, and 
 I was soliloquizing, when Leucippe entered alone. 
 I turned pale and then red, but chance came to 
 my assistance, vii-viii. The day before, a bee 
 had stung Clio's hand, and Leucippe had mur- 
 
48 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 mured over it a spell which had relieved the pain. 
 This I had observed. It happened now that 
 perceiving a bee or wasp flying about my face, I 
 conceived the idea of feigning that my lip was 
 stung. The stratagem succeeded: Leucippe ap- 
 proached her lips to mine in order to repeat her 
 incantations, and thus gave me the opportunity 
 to kiss her — at first clandestinely, then openly. 
 But my pain, as I told her, was only aggravated ; 
 now the sting penetrated to my heart. "You 
 must carry a bee upon your lips," said I, " for 
 your kisses are both honeyed and stinging." Just 
 then we saw Clio approaching, and parted. I 
 felt encouraged. I guarded Leucippe's kiss upon 
 my lips as if it were a corporeal treasure left 
 there. (The Praise of the Kiss.) ix-x. At 
 supper, Satyrus interchanged my cup with 
 Leucippe's, upon which I kissed the place her 
 lips had touched ; and when the cups were again 
 exchanged, she imitated me. Thus we passed 
 the time in drinking kisses to one another. After 
 supper Satyrus notified me that Leucippe's 
 mother had gone to bed unwell, and that he 
 should draw off Clio. This was my opportunity. 
 Armed with wine, love, hope and solitude, I em- 
 braced Leucippe boldly, and would have done 
 more, when we heard a noise, and parted again. 
 It was made by Satyrus, who, keeping watch, 
 had heard someone coming. 
 
 xi. My father now made preparations to con- 
 clude my marriage at once : he had dreamed that 
 while he was celebrating the nuptial rites, the 
 torches were suddenly extinguished. He there- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 49 
 
 fore hastened the purchase of the wedding- 
 clothes and jewels. Among the latter was a 
 necklace, containing a rosy hyacinth and a golden 
 glowing amethyst and three other stones set 
 together so that they resembled an eye. Among 
 the former was a purple robe bordered with gold. 
 Its dye was the genuine Tyrian, such as dyes 
 the robe of Aphrodite herself. (Description of 
 necklace and of robe. Legend of discovery of 
 the purple-fish.) xii. The marriage being fixed 
 for the morrow, my father was sacrificing, when 
 an eagle swooped down and bore of! the victim. 
 By reason of this unfavorable omen, the marriage 
 was postponed ; and the soothsayers prescribed a 
 midnight sacrifice to Zeus Xenios upon the sea- 
 shore, as the eagle had flown that way. 
 
 xiii. Now before the war there lived in Byzan- 
 tium a young, wealthy and profligate orphan 
 named Callisthenes, who upon hearsay fell in 
 love with Leucippe, though he had never seen 
 her. Her hand being refused him because of his 
 profligacy, he resolved to carry her off. xiv. 
 Then the war broke out, and Callisthenes learned 
 that Leucippe had been sent to us ; but his plan 
 was aided by an oracle rendered to the Byzan- 
 tines : " There is an is 1 ^.nd whose inhabitants bear 
 the name of a plant; this land makes both a 
 strait and an isthmus with the shore; there 
 Hephaestus rejoices in the possession of blue- 
 eyed Pallas : thither I command you to bear 
 sacrifices to Hercules. " This oracle Sostratus 
 himself, who was one of the Byzantine com- 
 manders, interpreted as meaning Tyre: for the 
 5 
 
50 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Phoenicians derive their name from that of the 
 palm-tree; the city is in fact connected with the 
 mainland by an isthmus, under which the sea 
 nevertheless flows in a strait; and certain sacred 
 olive-trees (Pallas) nearby, are fertilized by the 
 ashes of fires (Hephaestus) burning round them. 
 This interpretation was approved by Chaerephon, 
 Sostratus's colleague, (who added other mar- 
 vels: a Sicilian spring where fire mingles with 
 the water, — the water not quenching the fire, the 
 fire not heating the water ; a river in Spain, which 
 emits musical sounds when the wind, like a plec- 
 trum upon a lyre, plays upon its surface; and a 
 lake in Libya, so rich in gold, like the soil of 
 India, that the Libyan maidens by merely plung- 
 ing into it a pitch-smeared pole — the pitch being 
 hook and bait as it were — fish out the gold.) xv. 
 In obedience to this oracle a sacred embassy 
 came to Tyre ; and one of its members was Callis- 
 thenes himself. The sacrifice was most sumptu- 
 ous. Incense of cassia, frankincense and crocus 
 vied with flowers — narcissus, roses and myrtle — 
 to perfume the air, so that there was a gale 
 of sweetness. (Sacrifice and victims described.) 
 xvi-xviii. As my stepmother was unwell, and 
 as Leucippe feigned illness in order that we might 
 have a meeting, Calligone and Leucippe's mother 
 went together to view the sacrifice. Callisthenes 
 consequently supposing Calligone to be Leucippe 
 (for he recognized Leucippe's mother Panthea, 
 the wife of Sostratus) and in fact much taken 
 with the beauty of Calligone herself, pointed her 
 out to a slave, with directions that she be ab- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 5 1 
 
 ducted by pirates during another ceremony to be 
 performed by the maidens upon the sea-shore. 
 The sacred mission performed, he withdrew in 
 his own ship, with the other Byzantine ships, but 
 put in at Sarapta, not far off. There he bought 
 a small boat, which his slave Zeno — himself a 
 sturdy rogue — manned with piratical fishermen of 
 the neighborhood and sailed to an island called 
 Rhodope's Tomb, quite near the city. There they 
 lay in ambush. But Callisthenes was not obliged 
 to await the maiden's ceremony. For the event 
 portended by the eagle took place at the very 
 sacrifice which was intended to avert it. We had 
 all gone to the shore to make our offering to 
 Zeus, Zeno observing us closely. At his signal 
 the boat from Rhodope's Tomb sailed in with ten 
 young fellows aboard ; eight others disguised as 
 women, but armed, were among the celebrants. 
 These all together, shouting and drawing their 
 swords, rushed upon us and made off with Calli- 
 gone in their boat, which sailed away like a bird. 
 Off Sarapta, Callisthenes took her aboard and 
 escaped to the open sea. In our confusion we 
 could do nothing. I breathed freely when I 
 found my marriage so unexpectedly broken off, 
 but couldn't help feeling sorry for Calligone ! 
 
 xix. Now I continued to court Leucippe, and 
 at length persuaded her to receive me at night 
 in her chamber. Panthea, who accompanied 
 Leucippe to bed, always had the door locked in- 
 side and out; but Satyrus had the keys dupli- 
 cated, and gained over Clio. xx. Conops, a 
 slanderous, gluttonous slave in the house, suspect- 
 
52 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ing our plans, kept watch with his door open, so 
 that it was difficult to escape his observation. 
 Satyrus, wishing to win him, joked with him 
 about his name (Gnat). Conops pretended to 
 return the joke, but in fact showed his ill-nature 
 by telling this fable of the gnat : xxi. " The lion 
 complained that, though Prometheus had created 
 him the most formidable of beasts, he was yet 
 afraid of the cock. Prometheus answered that 
 the lion's own cowardice was to blame; whereat 
 the lion wished for death rather than such dis- 
 grace. But then he happened to meet the ele- 
 phant, whose great ears, he observed, were in- 
 cessantly flapping. 'Why not give your ears a 
 rest ? ' asked the lion." ' See that gnat ? ' replied 
 the elephant. ' If he once gets into my ear, I'm 
 done for.' ' At any rate/ the lion thought, 'I'm 
 at least as much luckier than the elephant, as a 
 cock is mightier than a gnat ! ' And he decided 
 to live on. Now you see," concluded Conops, 
 " the gnat is not so inconsiderable after all : even 
 the elephant fears him." Satyrus saw the covert 
 meaning. " By all means make the most of your 
 fable," said he, "but let me tell you another: 
 xxii. The boastful gnat said to the lion: 'You 
 think yourself the most valorous of beasts — you 
 that scratch and bite like a woman ! Your size ? 
 Your beauty? — to be sure, you have a big chest 
 and shoulders, and a bristly mane — but how 
 about the rest of you? As for me, the whole 
 expanse of air is mine ; my beauty is that of all 
 the flowery meads, which I put on or off at will 
 when I alight or when I fly. Nor is my strength 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 53 
 
 to be despised, for I am all a weapon— at once a 
 trumpet and a javelin, at once a bow and an 
 arrow, at once the warrior and his dart. I am 
 there and away in a moment ; in an instant I stay 
 and go. I ride all round my victim, and laugh 
 at him as he dances about to find me. But 
 enough of words! Come, let's have it out.' 
 And he stung the lion's lips, he jumped into his 
 eyes ; he stung him where the hair was short ! 
 The lion snapped and gasped and writhed in 
 vain: the gnat slipped between his very teeth— 
 his empty gnashing teeth! At length, wearied 
 out with fighting shadows, the lion lay down; 
 and the gnat flew off, trumpeting victory. As he 
 circled more and more widely in his triumph, he 
 flew into a spider's web, which he had failed to 
 notice; but the spider didn't fail to notice him! 
 So," ended Satyrus with a laugh, " ware spiders." 
 xxiii. A few days later, Satyrus asked Conops 
 to supper, and drugged his last cup of wine, so 
 that Conops fell asleep as soon as he reached his 
 room. Then Satyrus called me, and we went 
 together to Leucippe's chamber. Satyrus re- 
 mained at the door, and Clio admitted me, torn 
 between conflicting hope and fear, joy and pain. 
 At that moment Panthea had a horrible dream : 
 a robber armed with a naked sword threw 
 Leucippe on the ground and disembowelled her. 
 Frightened out of her sleep, Panthea ran to 
 Leucippe's room, which she reached just as I 
 had gotten into bed. When I heard the door 
 open, I leaped out and ran through the door, and 
 Satyrus and I each escaped to his own room. 
 
54 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 xxiv. First Panthea fainted; then she boxed 
 Clio's ears; then she reproached Leucippe: 
 " What a wedding is this ! Better have been 
 ravished in the war; then your misfortune would 
 have been free from dishonor : as it is, you suffer 
 misfortune and dishonor too. What a fulfilment 
 of my dream! Alas, who did it — some slave?" 
 xxv. Sure that I had escaped, Leucippe replied : 
 " Your reproaches are undeserved. I know not 
 who that person may have been — whether a god, 
 a demigod, or a burglar; all I know is, I was so 
 frightened I couldn't cry out. But my virginity 
 is intact." Panthea fell down again, groaning. 
 Meanwhile Satyrus and I resolved to get away 
 before day, when Clio under torture would have 
 to confess everything, xxvi-xxvii. Telling the 
 porter we were going to our mistresses, we be- 
 took ourselves to Clinias ; and while we were in 
 the street trying to rouse him, Clio joined us, de- 
 termined to escape the torture. Accordingly 
 Clio was taken off by boat in the care of one of 
 Clinias's slaves; but we agreed to stay long 
 enough to persuade Leucippe to escape; if she 
 would not, we too should remain, and commit 
 ourselves to Fortune. So we took a short sleep, 
 and returned home at daybreak, xxviii. Pan- 
 thea now demanded Clio for the torture, but 
 couldn't find her. Returning therefore to Leu- 
 cippe, she cried: "Why don't you tell me the 
 trick of this plot? Here's Clio run away!" 
 Leucippe, still further reassured, offered to sub- 
 mit to a test of her virginity. " Yes," said her 
 mother, " and call witnesses to our dishonor ! " 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 55 
 
 And she flung out of the room. xxix. Leucippe 
 was sorrowful, ashamed, and angry, all at once — 
 sorrowful because she had been caught, ashamed 
 at her mother's reproaches, angry because her 
 word had been doubted. (Shame, sorrow, and 
 anger: their causes and effects.) xxx. Hence, 
 when I sent Satyrus to sound her on the ques- 
 tion of an elopement, she anticipated him, beg- 
 ging to be taken from her mother's sight. Dur- 
 ing my father's absence on a journey, we spent 
 two days in preparation, xxxi. At supper on 
 the second day, Satyrus drugged Panthea, 
 drugged Leucippe's new chambermaid (whom he 
 had won over by making feigned love to her), 
 and drugged the porter ! (Conops happened to be 
 absent on an errand.) Then Leucippe and I, 
 Satyrus, and two servants, entered a carriage in 
 which Clinias was waiting for us at the door; 
 and drove to Sidon, and on to Berytus, where 
 we found a vessel ready to sail. Without in- 
 quiring her destination, we embarked, and then 
 learned that she was bound for Alexandria, 
 xxxii-xxxiii. With much confusion she got 
 under way, and left the harbor. A courteous 
 young fellow-passenger, who made common stock 
 of provisions with us, gave his name as Menelaus, 
 an Egyptian. Clinias and I also told him our 
 names and country. Upon his inquiring our 
 reason for this voyage, we asked him to begin by 
 relating his own. (xxxiv. While hunting, he 
 had accidentally killed his favorite; and he was 
 now returning from banishment for this offense. 
 Clinias wept, remembering Charicles, and upon 
 
56 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Menelaus's inquiry, told him that story) and I 
 told mine. To enliven their sadness, I proposed 
 an amatory discussion, — Leucippe being absent, 
 asleep below. " Clinias is lucky," said I ; 
 " always inveighing against women, he now finds 
 in you a companion of similar tastes." (Discus- 
 sion: boys vs. women (xxxvi-xxxviii).) 
 
 Book III 
 
 i-ii. On the third day a gale came up. 
 (Storm vividly described.) iii-iv. Wearied out, 
 the helmsman abandoned the tiller, got ready the 
 boat, and ordering the sailors to embark, himself 
 took the lead ( !). They were about to cut loose 
 when the passengers also tried to jump in. The 
 sailors threatened them with knives and axes; 
 the passengers armed themselves with what 
 they could find — broken oars and benches; a 
 novel sea-fight ensued. (Fight described.) The 
 ship soon struck a sunken rock and went to 
 pieces. Those who were drowned at once were 
 happier than those who survived to drown later, 
 for a lingering death by drowning is fearful be- 
 yond measure: the eye has death before it con- 
 tinually in a shape vast and overwhelming as the 
 sea itself. Some were dashed against rocks and 
 perished, others were impaled on broken spars 
 like fish ; some swam about half-dead. v. Leu- 
 cippe and I floated upon a fragment of the prow, 
 which some good genius had preserved for us. 
 Menelaus and Satyrus and some other passengers 
 had a bit of mast; and Clinias rode the waves 
 upon a spar, calling " Hold fast, Clitophon ! " 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 57 
 
 Just then a wave washed over him, and we cried 
 out; but rolling towards us, by good luck it 
 passed, and we again caught sight of Clinias and 
 the spar on the crest of the sea. I prayed to 
 Poseidon to save us or give us a speedy death; 
 and if death, then death together and a common 
 tomb — even in one fish. Soon the wind abated 
 and the waves subsided. Menelaus and his 
 companions were cast upon a part of the Egyp- 
 tian coast at that time the haunt of brigands. 
 Leucippe and I at evening came by chance to 
 Pelusium, where landing we thanked the gods 
 and bewailed Clinias and Satyrus, believing 
 them to have perished, vi. (Description of the 
 statue of Zeus Casius.) Having made our 
 prayers, and asked tidings of Clinias and Saty- 
 rus, — for the god was held to be prophetic, — we 
 saw at the rear of the temple two paintings by 
 Evanthes, (one of Andromeda, the other of 
 Prometheus. Their having so much in common 
 had probably led the painter to treat them 
 together: both were prisoners upon rocks; both 
 had a beast for executioner — one marine, the 
 other aerial; both had an Argive deliverer- 
 Perseus and Hercules respectively — the one 
 aiming at the bird of Zeus, the other at the 
 monster of Poseidon, vii. Andromeda lay in a 
 hollow of the rock as large as her body, — a 
 natural hollow, as its surface showed. 'A 
 statue' — you would have said, if you looked at 
 her beauty, but if at the chains and the monster — 
 ' A tomb.' Beauty and fear were mingled in her 
 countenance, beauty blooming in her eyes, fear 
 
58 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 paling her cheeks; yet were her cheeks not so 
 pale but that they were tinged with color, nor 
 her eyes so lovely but that they languished like 
 fading violets. Thus the painter had adorned 
 her with beautiful fear. Her arms were 
 chained; her wrists and fingers hanging like 
 clusters of the vine; arms white, fingers blood- 
 less; attire bridal, white, of fine silken texture. 
 The monster : only his head was above water, the 
 jaws open to his shoulders; but his body was 
 visible in outline beneath — with scales, spines, 
 and tail. Perseus was descending from the sky, 
 his mantle about his shoulders, his body naked; 
 winged sandals on his feet, and on his head a 
 cap like Hades's. His left hand grasped as a 
 shield the Gorgon's head with its glaring eyes and 
 bristling snakes, his right of weapon half sword 
 half sickle — a straight blade in common, then a 
 division into two — one proceeding to the point, 
 the other bent round into a hook. viii. Prome- 
 theus was shown chained to the rock ; against his 
 thigh the bird, braced upon the points of his 
 talons and with his beak searching the wound 
 for his victim's liver, which appeared in the open- 
 ing; Prometheus's one thigh was contracted in 
 pain, the other stretched tense to the very toes; 
 his face convulsed, eyebrows contracted, lips 
 drawn, teeth visible: you could almost pity the 
 picture. Hercules stood armed with a bow, and 
 the shaft already on it. The left hand held the 
 bow ; the right drew the string to his breast — all 
 in a moment. Prometheus was divided between 
 hope and fear; with hope he looked toward his 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 59 
 
 deliverer, and with fear back to his wounded 
 side.) 
 
 ix. From Pelusium we were proceeding on a 
 hired vessel up the Nile to Alexandria, when, 
 opposite a town, we heard a shout — " The Herds- 
 men ! " and saw the bank thronged with savage- 
 looking men of black complexion, like mongrel 
 Ethiopians. Four of them boarded us, carried 
 away everything on the boat including our money, 
 took us ashore bound, and left us in a hut, with 
 guards who were to take us next day to their 
 chief, x. That night, I silently soliloquized upon 
 the calamities I had brought upon Leucippe: 
 " Our case would be sorry enough had we fallen 
 into the hands of Greeks ; but there at least our 
 supplications would be understood. Here, charm 
 I like a Siren, I plead to deaf ears ; I am reduced 
 to gestures ; I must perform mv lamentations in 
 pantomimic dance. But faithful tender Leu- 
 cippe — what preparations are these for thy wed- 
 ding! Thy bridal chamber a prison, the earth 
 thv bed, thy necklace a noose, thy bridesman a 
 thief, tears for thy nuptial hymn. O sea, in 
 sparing us thou hast destroyed us." xi. Thus I 
 lamented, tearlessly; (for though tears flow 
 freelv enough in ordinary griefs and relieve the 
 swelling of the heart, excessive sorrow turns 
 them back upon their fount, so that, returning, 
 they exasperate the wound of the soul.) Leu- 
 cippe too being silent, I asked her why she did 
 not speak to me. "The death of my soul," she 
 answered, "has been anticipated by the death of 
 my voice." xii. At daybreak, a shag-haired 
 
60 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 villain on a shaggy horse rode up bareback, with 
 orders to bring away for sacrifice any maiden he 
 might find. Leucippe, who clung shrieking to 
 me, they dragged away. Me they beat, and left 
 with the other prisoners to follow more slowly, 
 xiii. A little way from the village we were over- 
 taken by a body of about fifty soldiers. The 
 brigands resisted, pelting them with rough stony 
 clods of earth, which the heavy-armed troops re- 
 ceived on their long shields with impunity. 
 Then, when their assailants were tired, they 
 opened their ranks, and allowed the light armed 
 troops to issue forth. These, supported by the 
 heavy troops, attacked the pirates with swords 
 and spears. At length the majority of the pirates 
 were cut to pieces by a body of cavalry which 
 came up; and we prisoners were taken by the 
 soldiers and sent to the rear. xiv. That evening 
 the commander (Charmides: named IV. ii) 
 heard our story, and promised to arm us all, as 
 he meant to attack the pirates' stronghold. At 
 my request he gave me a horse too, which I put 
 through its military paces, to his admiration. 
 Then he made me his guest, listened more par- 
 ticularly to my troubles, and expressed his 
 sympathy by tears. (Sympathy often leads to 
 friendship.) He also gave me an Egyptian ser- 
 vant, xv. Next morning we perceived the 
 pirates before us, on the far side of a trench, 
 which it was our object to fill up. Near it was 
 an extemporized altar of clay, and a coffin. Soon 
 two men, whom I could not make out because 
 of their armor, led Leucippe, whom I saw plainly, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 6 1 
 
 to the altar, a priest all the while chanting, as 
 appeared from the position of his mouth and the 
 distortion of his face. Then all the rest retired 
 from the altar; and one of the two bound Leu- 
 cippe on the ground to four pegs, like an image 
 of Marsyas, and with a sword disembowelled 
 her. They roasted the entrails upon the altar, 
 and distributed them among the pirates, who ate 
 them. Amid the shout of horror that rose from 
 our army, I was thunderstruck into silence. 
 Niobe's fabled metamorphosis may have been 
 some such paralysis by grief. The two men 
 placed the body in a coffin, covered it with a lid, 
 and, after throwing down the altar, hurried back 
 to their companions without looking behind them, 
 as the priest had commanded. 
 
 xvi. By evening we had filled and crossed the 
 trench, and I went to the coffin prepared to stab 
 myself. " Leucippe," I cried, " thy death is 
 lamentable not only because violent and in a 
 strange land, but because thou hast been sacri- 
 ficed to purify the most impure; because thou 
 didst look upon thine own anatomy ; because thy 
 body and thy bowels have received an accursed 
 sepulchre, — the one here, the other in such wise 
 that their burial has become the nourishment of 
 robbers. And this the gods saw unmoved, and 
 accepted such an offering! But now receive 
 from me thy fitting libation/' xvii. About to 
 cut my throat, I saw two men running up, and 
 paused, thinking that they were pirates and would 
 kill me. They were Menelaus and Satyrus! 
 Still I could not rejoice in their safety, and I 
 
6j the greek romances in 
 
 resisted their attempt to take my sword. " If you 
 deprive me of this sword, wherewith I would 
 end my sorrows in death, the inward sword of 
 my grief will inflict deathless sorrows upon me. 
 Let me die: Leucippe dead, I will not live." 
 " Leucippe lives ! " said Menelaus, and, tapping 
 upon the coffin, he summoned her to testify to his 
 veracity. Leucippe actually rose, disembowelled 
 as she was, and rushed to my embrace, xviii. 
 " Soon," Menelaus replied to my astonished ques- 
 tions, " you shall see her intact ; but cover your 
 face: — I'm going to invoke Hecate." I did so; 
 whereupon he muttered words of marvel ; at the 
 same time removing certain contrivances from 
 Leucippe's body. Then, "Uncover," said he, 
 which I did fearfully, for I thought to see 
 Hecate. But I saw only Leucippe, unharmed! 
 Menelaus now began to satisfy my curiosity: 
 xix. " I am, you remember, an Egyptian : in 
 fact, I own property about this very village, and 
 know the people there. After I had been cast 
 ashore and taken to the pirate chief, some of 
 the pirates recognized me, struck off my chains, 
 and begged me to join them. I consented, and 
 claimed Satyrus too as my slave. He, they said, 
 would be granted me if I first gave proof of 
 courage in their cause. They had just received 
 an oracle bidding them offer up a maiden, taste 
 her liver, put her body in a coffin, and retire so 
 that the enemy might take the site of the sacri- 
 fice." xx-xxii. Satyrus now took up the story. 
 " The day before the sacrifice, the pirates took a 
 ship on which was travelling a theatrical reciter 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 63 
 
 of Homer. When the crew had been killed and 
 the ship sunk, there floated ashore to us a chest 
 unperceived by the pirates. Among its contents' 
 was a stage-sword, whose blade could be pushed 
 almost wholly into the hollow hilt. It had doubt- 
 less been used to inflict mimic wounds. I at once 
 proposed to Menelaus to procure a sheepskin bag 
 stuff it with guts and blood, and conceal it under 
 Leucippe's dress, which, according to the oracle 
 was not to be removed for the sacrifice. Mene- 
 laus, in proof of his courage and devotion as 
 demanded by the pirates, was to perform the sup- 
 posed slaughter— the blade to protrude at first 
 only far enough to rip up the bag, but afterwards 
 for the benefit of the spectators, to appear at its 
 full length, covered with blood, as if it had 
 actually pierced Leucippe's body. We could 
 then lay her safely in the coffin, as no one was to 
 approach. Menelaus agreed to take the risk for 
 friendship's sake, especially as we learned, both 
 from Leucippe and from the pirates, that you 
 Chtophon, still lived. Fortune co-operated with 
 us; for when Menelaus approached the pirate 
 chief to volunteer, the chief imposed the task 
 upon him— the pirates' law requiring new- 
 comers to be the first to make sacrifice— and even 
 entrusted the victim to our care. All was carried 
 out as we had planned, and as you saw." 
 
 xxiii. I next inquired what had become of 
 Chmas. " I don't know," said Menelaus ; " when 
 I last saw him, he was clinging to the spar." In 
 the midst of my joy I lamented: my happiness 
 could not be entire, as long as he whom I loved 
 
64 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 next only after Leucippe, was lost; and I be- 
 wailed his fate, — not only dead but unburied. 
 Then we returned to my tent, where we passed 
 the night. Our adventures soon became known, 
 xxiv. At dawn I introduced Menelaus to Char- 
 mides, who received him well, and who, inquiring 
 the strength of the enemy, learned that there 
 were about ten thousand. These, he said, could 
 easily be beaten by his own five thousand, who 
 besides, were to be reinforced by two thousand 
 more from the Delta and from Heliopolis. At 
 that moment messengers arrived to say that the 
 reinforcements from the Delta would delay their 
 start five days, because the Sacred Bird, bear- 
 ing its father's sepulchre, had appeared among 
 the troops just as they were on the point of 
 marching, (xxv. This sacred bird, they told 
 me, was the Ethiopian Phoenix. He is of the 
 size of a peacock, but of yet more gorgeous 
 plumage. He owes allegiance to the sun, as 
 a mark of whose dominion he wears upon 
 his head a radiant circle. When after many 
 years he dies, his son hollows out a mass of 
 myrrh for the sepulchre, — wherein he bears the 
 body to Egypt, attended by many other birds as 
 a guard of honor. Upon arriving at the City of 
 the Sun — Heliopolis — he waits for the priest to 
 appear, who bears from the sanctuary a book 
 containing a picture of the Phoenix, and thereby 
 identifies the corpse, which the young Phoenix 
 aids him by exhibiting, and so argues for its 
 burial : eo-nv iTnrdcpLos croc/wmj?. There the 
 priests bury it. Thus the bird during life is by 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 65 
 
 its breeding an Ethiopian, but after death, by its 
 burial, an Egyptian.) 
 
 Book IV 
 
 i. Charmides awaited the reinforcements at the 
 village we had left; and there he assigned us a 
 house. Upon my urging Leucippe to profit by 
 the opportunity Fortune now afforded us, she 
 related a dream she had had: The night before, 
 when she fully expected to be sacrificed, Artemis 
 had appeared to her, saying, " You shall be 
 saved; but remain a maid till I lead thee to the 
 altar; and none but Clitophon shall be thy hus- 
 band." Disappointed as I was, I was yet cheered 
 by this dream, especially as I also recalled a 
 dream I had had at the same time : I saw Aphro- 
 dite's temple, and her statue within; but when I 
 would have entered, the gates closed, and the 
 goddess said, " Thou mayest not enter as yet, 
 but wait a little, and thou shalt not only enter, 
 but be my priest." 
 
 ii. Charmides, the general, now had an oppor- 
 tunity to see Leucippe, for we went at his invita- 
 tion to see a hippopotamus that had been cap- 
 tured. (Hippopotamus described.) iii. Char- 
 mides at once became enamored of Leucippe, 
 (and to keep her there gave us a long account 
 of the nature and food of the animal, and of the 
 mode of his capture, iv-v. He furthermore told 
 us some curious things about the elephant.) 
 
 vi. Charmides now sent for Menelaus, and, 
 offering -him money, requested his offices as 
 mediator with Leucippe. Menelaus refused the 
 6 
 
66 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 money, but promised to do what he could, and 
 at once came and told me all. As we could not 
 escape, and dared not antagonize Charmides, we 
 resolved to deceive him. vii. Accordingly, 
 Menelaus reported to Charmides that Leucippe 
 after much difficulty had consented, but had 
 begged a respite till she should reach Alexandria, 
 as all here was too public. Charmides answered : 
 " Make Fortune guarantee my safety till then, 
 and I will wait. As it is, I know not whether I 
 shall survive my battle with the pirates. And 
 while I prepare for that outward battle, love 
 wounds and burns me within. Let me have the 
 physician that can heal these wounds. Let me at 
 least kiss Leucippe." 
 
 viii. Upon hearing this from Menelaus, I de- 
 clared I would sooner die than permit another 
 to enjoy Leucippe's kisses. (The Praise of the 
 Kiss.) ix. While we took counsel, some one 
 ran in to say that Leucippe had suddenly fallen 
 in a fit. Running to where she lay on the 
 ground, Menelaus and I tried to raise her; but 
 she struck me in the face, and kicked him, and 
 struggled unseemly. Charmides, who came up, 
 thought the scene preconcerted, and looked 
 suspiciously at Menelaus, but was soon convinced 
 that the malady was genuine. We were com- 
 pelled to bind Leucippe. Then I broke out: 
 " Unbind her ! those tender hands cannot endure 
 bonds. My embrace shall be her chain — what 
 though her madness rage against me? Why 
 should I live when she knows me not? Was it 
 for this that Fortune saved us from our troubles 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 67 
 
 at home, from a raging sea, from pirates — only 
 that we might fall victims to madness? And 
 when thou shalt have recovered, mayhap she 
 reserves some still worse affliction: so that we 
 must fear even the good luck of thy recovery. 
 But provided thou dost indeed recover, let For- 
 tune sport as she will." x. Menelaus opined 
 that this sickness was nothing extraordinary, but 
 normally incident to youth, when the blood, boil- 
 ing through the veins, overflows the brain and 
 drowns the spirit of reason. He readily pro- 
 cured from Charmides the services of the army 
 physician. A pill dissolved in oil and rubbed on 
 Leucippe's head according to the doctor's orders, 
 put her to sleep — a first step in the cure. I sat 
 by her awake all night, and lamented : " Even in 
 sleep thou are enchained. Are thy dreams 
 rational, or are they frenzied like thy waking 
 thoughts ? " She awoke still delirious. 
 
 xi. Letters now came from the Satrap of 
 Egypt, which must have ordered an immediate 
 attack upon the robbers; for Charmides got his 
 forces under arms, and next day moved them 
 against the enemy. (The Nile, which down to 
 a place called Cercasorus is one stream, there 
 divides into three. The middle one flows on 
 as before, and forms the Delta, but all are 
 again divided and subdivided. They are navi- 
 gable and potable throughout, and fertilize the 
 land. xii. In fact, the Nile is everything to 
 the Egyptians, — sea and land, swamp and 
 river. There you see — strange spectacle — the 
 ship and the plow, etc., together; where you 
 
68 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 have sailed, you sow, and anon your field has 
 become a sea. The river punctually rises upon 
 the expected day. Then land and water strug- 
 gle, and neither gains the victory, for they are 
 co-extensive. In the region inhabited by the 
 robbers, the Nile when it retires leaves many 
 ponds, shallow and muddy, on which the robbers 
 sail, in light boats containing one person: any 
 other kind would run aground at once. When 
 water fails, these are taken on the sailor's back 
 and carried to a deeper channel. Among the 
 swamps, the uninhabited islands are covered 
 with papyrus growing close, behind which, as 
 behind a rampart, the pirates hold their councils 
 and plan their ambushes. In the inhabited 
 islands are rude huts, like a city walled in by the 
 marsh.) The robbers had retired to the island of 
 Nicochis, for this place, though connected with 
 the land by a causeway, was otherwise wholly 
 surrounded by the lagoons, xiii. The robbers 
 resorted to stratagem. They sent out their old 
 men bearing palm-branches, ostensibly as a 
 badge of supplication, but really to conceal a 
 column of spearmen behind them. If Charmides 
 accepted their offer, there would be no fighting; 
 if not, they were to lure him out on the causeway, 
 and there the spearmen were to attack. So it 
 turned out : Charmides refusing ransom, the old 
 men begged that they might be put to death in 
 their own homes, and that their city might be 
 their tomb. Accordingly Charmides advanced 
 along the causeway, xiv. Now the robbers had 
 also stationed lookouts at the irrigation canals, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 69 
 
 who, if they saw Charmides' force advance, were 
 to cut the bank and let out the Nile upon him. 
 At one moment, then, the old men fell back, the 
 unmasked spearmen charged, and the waters 
 rolled over the causeway. The troopers, com- 
 pletely surprised, were thrown into ruinous con- 
 fusion, and cut down, drowned, or routed. 
 (Details.) Charmides himself was killed at 
 the first attack. Here was a land-battle on 
 water, and a wreck on land. The pirates were 
 unduly elated at their success, which they at- 
 tributed not to fraud but to valor; for these 
 Egyptians know only extremes — of abject fear 
 and overweening isolence. 
 
 xv. After ten days of madness, Leucippe one 
 night exclaimed in her sleep : " Gorgias, 'tis thou 
 hast made me mad." I reported these words to 
 Menelaus, wondering whether there were a 
 Gorgias in the place. As we went out, a young 
 man accosted me, saying, " I am come to save 
 you and your wife." "Are you Gorgias?" 
 " No, I am Chaereas. Gorgias was an Egyptian 
 soldier, killed in the battle with the robbers. 
 Having fallen in love with Leucippe, he induced 
 your servant to administer to her a philter, which 
 proved too strong and produced madness. From 
 Gorgias's servant, whom Fortune seems to have 
 saved for your special behoof, I learned these 
 facts. He knows the antidote as well, and will 
 cure Leucippe for four pieces of gold." " Bring 
 me the man," said I. Then I mauled my Egyp- 
 tian till he confessed, and put him in prison. 
 xvi. Chaereas returned with Gorgias's servant, 
 
70 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 who, to allay my fears, compounded his drug in 
 my presence, and himself drank off half the mix- 
 ture. " Now," he said, " if you give the re- 
 mainder to Leucippe, she will sleep well to-night, 
 and awake cured." Then he went away to sleep 
 off the effects of what he had taken, xvii. With 
 a prayer, I administered the potion to Leucippe, 
 who fell asleep; and I addressed her thus: 
 " Shalt thou indeed recover ? Speak to me again 
 prophetically in thy sleep ; for thy inspired utter- 
 ance concerning Gorgias was true. So that thy 
 sleep, wherein thou dreamest wisdom, is happier 
 than thy frenzied waking hours." At dawn she 
 awoke, calling " Clitophon ! " I sprang to her 
 side, and found her fully recovered, without the 
 least remembrance of her malady. I unbound 
 her, told her what had happened, and reassured 
 her in her confusion thereat. Gladly then I. 
 paid Gorgias's servant. . Our money was safe, as 
 Satyrus, who had it, had not been despoiled by 
 the robbers, any more than had Menelaus. xviii. 
 Meanwhile, new troops had extirpated the rob- 
 bers and razed their city ; and the Nile now being 
 safe we embarked once more for Alexandria, 
 taking our new friend Chaereas along. (A 
 fisherman from Pharos, he had served on the 
 fleet against the robbers, and was now dis- 
 charged.) The river, which because of their 
 depredations had been deserted, was again 
 crowded ; and a pleasant thing it was to hear the 
 songs of the sailors and the mirth of the pas- 
 sengers, and to see so many craft passing up and 
 down: the river itself was celebrating, as it were. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 7 1 
 
 (Description of the Nile; the taste of the water; 
 the Egyptian mode of drinking it ; the crocodile a 
 strange beast.) 
 
 Book V 
 
 i. In three days we arrived at Alexandria. 
 (I admired the long colonnades from the Gate 
 of the Sun to the Gate of the Moon; and the 
 great open place half-way between, with its 
 many streets and its moving crowds — evhr]/jo<; 
 awoBrj/jLLa. The quarter called after Alexander 
 is a second city, with more streets and more 
 colonnades. The size and the population vied 
 with each other : How could any population fill so 
 vast a city? How could any city hold so vast a 
 population? ii. It happened to be the feast of 
 Serapis, the Zeus of the Egyptians ; and after 
 sunset the illumination brought on another day, 
 the beauty of the city now rivalling that of the 
 heavens. We saw also Zeus Milichius and the 
 temple of Zeus Uranius, and prayed him to end 
 our troubles. But Fortune still reserved other 
 trials for us.) iii. Chaereas had for some time 
 loved Leucippe; and his motive for telling me 
 about Gorgias's philtre was only that he might 
 preserve her for himself, and become intimate 
 with us. He now plotted to get possession of 
 her. As a seafaring man he easily gathered a 
 band of pirates, to whom he gave his instructions ; 
 and then he invited us to celebrate his birthday 
 at Pharos. When we left the house, a hawk pur- 
 suing a swallow brushed Leucippe's head with 
 his wing. Startled by this evil omen, I prayed 
 to Zeus for a clearer sign : when, turning round, 
 
72 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 I found myself before a picture-shop in which 
 hung a painting of like significance. It repre- 
 sented Philomela revealing her wrongs to Procne 
 by means of the tapestry. A slave held up the 
 cloth, to the figures on which Philomela pointed : 
 herself struggling dishevelled in the arms of 
 Tereus, her right hand gouging out his eyes, her 
 left drawing her dress over her half-naked breast. 
 Procne gave sign of her understanding and her 
 rage. Elsewhere appeared the two sisters show- 
 ing to Tereus the remnants of his supper — the 
 head and hands of his child. They laugh and 
 are afraid — both at once; Tereus leaps up from 
 his couch, drawing his sword against them ; his 
 leg strikes and overturns the table, which is on 
 the very point of falling, iv. Upon Menelaus's 
 advice we put off the excursion to Pharos be- 
 cause of these portents, and notified Chaereas, 
 who, much vexed, said he should come again 
 the next day. (v. At Leucippe's request, I re- 
 lated the story of Philomela, Procne, and 
 Tereus.) 
 
 vi. We had avoided the trap for only a day. 
 Next morning Chaereas appeared, and as we 
 were ashamed to refuse him again, we sailed to 
 Pharos. Menelaus remained at home, saying he 
 did not feel well. Chaereas showed us the light- 
 house with its marvellous foundation of rock, a 
 cloud-capped mountain in the midst of the sea; 
 and the tower on whose summit the light is dis- 
 played — a second pilot for ships. Then he took 
 us to a house on the shore, at the very end of the 
 island, vii. At evening he made a pretext to 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 73 
 
 leave us. Soon we heard a great shouting at the 
 door, and a number of burly fellows burst into 
 the room and dragged Leucippe away. Armed 
 though they were, I rushed into the midst of 
 them ; but fell wounded in the thigh. They put 
 Leucippe into a boat, and fled. By this time, the 
 noise had brought thither the commandant of the 
 island, whom I had known in the army, and 
 whom I now besought to pursue the pirates. He 
 had me carried aboard one of the numerous ships 
 waiting in the port, and at once gave chase. 
 When the pirates saw us drawing near, they ex- 
 hibited the maiden on deck with her hands tied 
 behind her back, and one of them, crying out 
 " Here, take your prize ! " cut off her head and 
 threw the trunk overboard. As my companions 
 restrained me from throwing myself after it, I 
 begged them to recover the body for me, which 
 two sailors accordingly did. The consequent 
 delay enabled the pirates to gain distance, and by 
 the time we were near them again, they had 
 found allies in an approaching shipload of purple- 
 fishers, pirates like themselves. Seeing the odds 
 against him, our commandant retired ; and I broke 
 forth : " Now indeed, Leucippe, hast thou died a 
 double death, divided as thou art between sea 
 and land. And the division is unfair ; for though 
 I seem to possess the greater portion of thee, yet 
 the sea, in possessing its little — thy head — pos- 
 sesses thee all. But since Fortune denies me thy 
 head, I will kiss thy neck." 
 
 viii. After interring the body, I returned to 
 Alexandria, unwillingly had my wound dressed, 
 
74 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 and, urged by Menelaus, decided to endure life. 
 But at the end of six months my grief had some- 
 what abated. For time medicines grief, and the 
 sun is a cheerful thing, and even violent sorrow 
 yields to the distractions of life day by day. I 
 was walking the public square, when who should 
 come up behind me but Clinias ! After my sur- 
 prise and my joy at seeing him were somewhat 
 calmed, he told me his story : ix. " The yard to 
 which I clung was caught up by a tremendous 
 wave and dashed against a sunken rock. I was 
 hurled off as from a sling. I swam the rest of 
 the day, growing more and more exhausted, till, 
 abandoning myself to Fortune, I at last perceived 
 a ship steering my way. I was rescued and 
 treated well. I knew some of the people aboard, 
 who were bound for Sidon. x. There, after two 
 days, we arrived, and I begged my acquaintances 
 not to mention that they had saved me from 
 shipwreck, as I did not wish it known in Tyre that 
 I had gone off with you. I had been away only 
 five days; and as I had told my servants to say 
 that I had gone to the country for ten days, 
 there was no need of explanations upon my 
 return. Your father did not even return from 
 his journey (II. xxx) till two days after my 
 arrival. Then he found a letter from Leucippe's 
 father, which had come only a day after we had 
 gone, offering you her hand! At this, and at 
 your flight, he was greatly chagrined, both be- 
 cause you had lost the prize and because For- 
 tune had made you miss it by so little : for if the 
 letter had come earlier, you would not have run 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 75 
 
 away. But he thought it better to write nothing 
 to Sostratus about your flight, and to persuade 
 Panthea also to keep the secret ; for he felt sure 
 you would be found, and would return as soon as 
 you heard the news. He made every effort to 
 find you, and only a few days ago Diophantus of 
 Tyre returning from Egypt reported that he had 
 seen you there. I at once took ship hither. You 
 had better decide upon some plan ; your father is 
 sure to be here soon." 
 
 xi. Hereupon I railed at Fortune : " Now's the 
 time indeed for Sostratus to grant me Leucippe ! 
 Doubtless he computed it so exactly in order not 
 to interfere with our flight! My happiness 
 comes just a day too late. After death, a bridal ; 
 after the dirge, the nuptial hymn. And what 
 bride does Fortune give me? One of whom she 
 grants me not even the corpse entire." I decided 
 neither to return, nor to await my father. How 
 could I face him, after running away so shame- 
 fully, and after corrupting the charge he had re- 
 ceived in trust from his brother? Just as I 
 had resolved, then, to run away once more, Mene- 
 laus and Satyrus came up. " Here's exactly the 
 chance: " said Satyrus, " Melitta, a beautiful rich 
 young widow of Ephesus, who has lost her hus- 
 band at sea, is madly in love with Clitophon ; but 
 he'll none of her. I suppose he thinks Leucippe 
 will come to life again. Melitta wants him — 
 I'll not say for a husband, but for a master." 
 xii. " Beauty, and riches, and love," said Mene- 
 laus, " are not to be despised. I advise you to 
 accept her offer." I reluctantly agreed, stipu- 
 
76 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 lating however that the consummation should not 
 take place till our arrival at Ephesus, as I had 
 sworn to be continent in the city where I had lost 
 Leucippe. Satyrus took the news to Melitta, 
 who almost fainted with joy. At her invitation 
 I went to dine with her that evening, xiii. She 
 covered me with kisses, which I received not 
 without pleasure ; for she was white as milk, with 
 golden hair and rosy cheeks, and a glance that 
 sparkled with love. The feast was abundant, but 
 she ate nothing, feeding her eyes upon me. 
 (Love fills the soul, leaving no room even for 
 food. The images of the beloved, the visual 
 effluvia or simulacra from him, enter the heart 
 through the eyes, and leave their imprint upon 
 the mirror of the soul.) xiv. When night 
 came, I declined her invitation to remain, but 
 agreed to meet her next day at the temple of 
 Isis. There, in the presence of Clinias and 
 Menelaus, we plighted our troth before the 
 divinity. Melitta took me for her husband and 
 put me in possession of all her property; I swore 
 to love her sincerely: both the promises to take 
 effect upon our arrival at Ephesus. At our 
 nuptial feast, when the guests wished us joy, 
 Melitta spoke an earnest word in jest: "I have 
 heard," she said to me sotto voce, "of a cenotaph, 
 but never of a cenogam ! " 
 
 xv. Next day we parted from Menelaus, but 
 Clinias embarked with us, intending to return to 
 Tyre after seeing me well settled at Ephesus. 
 At night, Melitta again asked me to consummate 
 our marriage: we had left, she urged, the terri- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 77 
 
 tory sacred to Leucippe. xvi. "No," said I, 
 "she died upon the ocean, and we are actually 
 sailing over her tomb ! Perchance her spirit still 
 wanders about us. First we must land in another 
 country. Would you wed upon the unstable sea ? 
 and have a bridal bed without a firm founda- 
 tion?" "You argue sophistically," she an- 
 swered, " to lovers every place is a bridal cham- 
 ber — and the sea especially, for Aphrodite is 
 daughter of the sea. And behold about you the 
 symbols of happy marriage: the sail-yard cross- 
 ing the mast like a yoke ; the intertwining ropes ; 
 the rudder an emblem of the guidance of For- 
 tune ; the swelling pregnant sail. The wind sings 
 Hymen; the choir of Nereids, with Poseidon him- 
 self, who wedded Amphitrite on the sea, shall 
 make our bridal pomp!" "Nay," said I, "the 
 sea itself has its laws, and among them this — 
 that ships be kept pure of the pleasures of 
 Aphrodite — either because ships are sacred, or 
 because men should not wanton in the presence 
 of peril." Thus I soothed and persuaded her, 
 and the rest of the night we slept. 
 
 xvii. After a voyage of five days we landed 
 at Ephesus. Melitta ordered dinner at her mag- 
 nificent house in town, and meanwhile we drove 
 out to her country-place and walked in the garden. 
 Suddenly a woman, miserably clad and heavily 
 fettered, her head shaven, her hand holding a 
 mattock, fell at our knees. "Have pity," she 
 cried, "upon one who was free by birth, but is 
 now by Fortune a slave." Melitta bade her rise 
 and tell her story : She was a Thessalian, Lacaena 
 
78 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 by name ; had been sold by pirates to Sosthenes, 
 Melitta's bailiff, for two thousand drachmas ; these 
 she now hoped to procure to purchase her free- 
 dom. Meanwhile she begged to be kept safe from 
 Sosthenes, who because she would not yield to 
 him had loaded her with chains and with the 
 stripes she showed us on her back. I was deeply 
 moved, for she seemed to have something of 
 Leucippe about her. Melitta delivered her from 
 her chains, promised to send her home free of 
 ransom, and sent for Sosthenes and deprived him 
 of his office. Then, having committed Lacaena 
 to the maids to be washed, properly clad, and 
 taken to the city, Melitta returned with me. 
 
 xviii. While we sat at dinner, Satyrus mo- 
 tioned to me to go out. I made an excuse and 
 did so; whereupon he handed me a letter which 
 I at once saw was in Leucippe's writing! 
 "Master," it read " (so I must call thee since 
 thou art my mistress's husband), for thee I have 
 left my mother, and become a wanderer; suf- 
 fered captivity among robbers, and become an 
 expiatory offering; suffered again the pains of 
 death; been sold, fettered, and scourged; been 
 made to bear a mattock and hoe the ground — and 
 all this that I might become to another man what 
 thou art to another woman. Heaven forbid ! I 
 have endured to the end; but thou, unharmed, 
 unscourged, hast yielded. See to it then that thy 
 wife keep her word to me: do thou become 
 security for my ransom, and say that I will send 
 it; but even shouldst thou be obliged to pay it, 
 consider it then as the price of what I have borne 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 79 
 
 for thy sake. Adieu, be happy. I who write this 
 am still a maid." xix. This I read with con- 
 flicting emotions : I burned, I paled, I wondered, 
 I doubted, I rejoiced, I grieved. Satyrus told me 
 that the woman I had seen in the country was 
 indeed Leucippe, rendered unrecognizable by the 
 cutting of her hair. xx. " She will tell you," 
 said he, "whose corpse it was that you buried, 
 and how she herself was saved. But now 
 answer her letter and soothe her irritation. I 
 have already told her it was against your will 
 that you married Melitta." " Told her I married 
 Melitta! You've spoiled all." "Nonsense! the 
 whole town knows you're married to her." " I 
 swear that I am not her husband." " Tush, man, 
 you sleep with her ! " "I know it's incredible, 
 but I am innocent of her." I then composed my 
 answer to Leucippe : " I am unhappy in my happi- 
 ness, that, having thee near, I see thee only as afar. 
 Wait till the truth is known, and you will find 
 that I too have remained a clean maid, if there be 
 maidenhood in men. Meanwhile, judge me not 
 too hardly." xxi. Giving Satyrus the letter, I 
 returned to dinner, but could eat nothing, and in- 
 deed judged it best to feign positive illness ; for I 
 knew that Melitta would urge me to consummate 
 our marriage that night, but felt, now I had re- 
 covered Leucippe, that I could not even look at 
 another woman. When I left the table, Melitta 
 followed me, pleading most piteously, and justly 
 too, that as we had now arrived, the fulfilment of 
 my promise was due. I swore that I was ill ; 
 and with fresh promises at last contrived to 
 pacify her. 
 
80 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 xxii. Next day, after ascertaining that Leu- 
 cippe had been well cared for, Melitta sent for 
 her. " I hear," she said, " that you Thessalians 
 are adepts in love-magic. Here, now, is your 
 chance to return some of my kindness to you. 
 That young man you saw with me " — " Your 
 husband?" asked Leucippe, maliciously. "Hus- 
 band ! " exclaimed Melitta. " Husband indeed ! 
 why, he's continually calling upon some dead 
 woman — Leucippe I think her name is — whom 
 he prefers to me. Now help me win this dis- 
 dainful youth: give me a philtre." Leucippe 
 heard with joy this account of my fidelity; and 
 believing it would be of no use to deny her magic 
 skill, promised to gather the necessary herbs. 
 Melitta was calmed by hope. 
 
 xxiii. That night we had just sat down to 
 dinner when there arose a great noise and tumult, 
 and one of the servants rushed in breathless, ex- 
 claiming, " Thersander's alive ; and here he is ! " 
 (Thersander was Melitta's husband, who, accord- 
 ing to certain of his servants that had been saved 
 from the wreck, was drowned.) In a moment 
 he was in the room. He had heard about me of 
 course, and had hurried to surprise me. Rudely 
 repulsing his wife, who ran to embrace him, he 
 turned to me, crying "There's the paramour!", 
 seized me by the hair, dashed me to the floor, and 
 beat me unmercifully. I could have defended 
 myself, but as I suspected who he was, I feared 
 to do so. At length, when he was weary of beat- 
 ing and I of philosophizing ( !), I asked: "Who 
 are you? and. why do you maltreat me?" My 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 8 1 
 
 words seemed still further to enrage him. He 
 began buffeting me again, and calling for chains 
 and handcuffs, had me fettered and locked up. 
 xxiv. In the struggle I let fall Leucippe's letter, 
 and Melitta picked it up. At first she thought it 
 was one of her own letters to me; then she saw 
 the name Leucippe, but still did not realize the 
 truth, as she had so often heard that Leucippe 
 was dead ; finally understanding the actual state 
 of affairs, she was torn by shame, anger, jealousy, 
 and love; — shame towards her husband, anger 
 towards the letter, love which mollified her anger, 
 and jealousy which intensified her love. Love 
 remained the victor, xxv. When evening came, 
 and Thersander was gone out to see a friend, 
 Melitta won over my guard, and placing two of 
 her own servants at the door, entered my prison. 
 She threw herself down beside me on the floor, 
 and began : " Miserable that I am, ever to have 
 beheld you ! Hated, I love him who hates me ; 
 tortured, I pity my torturer. Oh detestable pair 
 — you and she — : the one laughs me to scorn ; the 
 other, forsooth, has gone to make me a philtre ! " 
 At this she threw Leucippe's letter on the floor, 
 and I shuddered and cast down my eyes. 
 " Alas ! " she went on, " 'tis for you I have lost 
 my husband ; and yet you I can never possess, nor 
 henceforward even see. He accuses me of 
 adultery — an adultery fruitless and joyless, where- 
 of I have gathered only the disgrace. Other 
 wives at least receive enjoyment as the price of 
 their infamy; I get infamy alone. Inhuman 
 man, can nothing move you? Oh, the shame of 
 
82 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 it — you have held me in your arms, me, young, 
 beautiful, and sick with love for you — and you 
 have left me as another woman might leave me! 
 May the god of love answer your prayers as you 
 have answered mine ! " and she wept. xxvi. I 
 still remained silent, with downcast eyes ; and she 
 resumed: "What I have said was said by my 
 anger and my grief; but oh, my love speaks 
 now ! Have pity on me. I yield up the prospect 
 of a married life with you; give me but one em- 
 brace. Quench my fire. If I transgress 
 modesty, I do not blush to unveil love's mysteries 
 to a lover — himself an initiate. Now keep your 
 promise : remember Isis and your oaths. Alas — 
 against me even the dead come to life. O sea, 
 thou didst bear me safe, but only to destroy me 
 in resuscitating Thersander and Leucippe. Ah, 
 Clitophon, to think that you were struck in my 
 very presence, and I could do naught to save you ! 
 But come, be mine now, for the first and last 
 time. Tis my love for you that has restored 
 Leucippe to you. Reject not the treasure of my 
 love, the gift of Fortune. Consider, — Eros him- 
 self speaks to you through my lips. Soon shall 
 you be delivered from these chains, and I will 
 find a place for you with my foster-brother, let 
 Thersander do what we will. Leucippe is away 
 till morning, gathering herbs ; Thersander, too, is 
 out: let us take our opportunity." xxvii. Won 
 over at last by this pleading — for Love is a 
 mighty master of eloquence — I yielded. Melitta 
 unbound me, and I, — considering that I should 
 soon part from her, that I had recovered Leu^ 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 83 
 
 cippe (so that this would be no consummation of 
 a marriage, but only the relief of a love-sick 
 soul), and that Eros himself would be angry if 
 I resisted further, — returned her embraces to the 
 full. 
 
 Book VI 
 
 i-ii. Melitta now arranged my escape. I was 
 to be conducted to Clinias, whither Leucippe also 
 would be sent. I gave Melitta my clothes, and 
 she gave me hers, which she said became me very 
 well ("I looked like Achilles in the picture")— 
 and she begged me to keep them for remem- 
 brance, as she should keep mine. With a female 
 slave I passed the door-keeper, and found at the 
 outer door of the house the guide provided for 
 me. Upon the slave-girl's return, Melitta called 
 the door-keeper, who was astonished to behold 
 her whom he thought he had just let out. She 
 explained that she had arranged the stratagem to 
 give him plausible ground for saying that he had 
 not connived at my escape; further, she gave 
 him money and sent him away till matters should 
 be arranged with Thersander. 
 
 iii. As usual, Fortune began a new play with 
 me. Whom should she send to meet me but 
 Thersander, returning from his friend's — a worse 
 danger indeed than the crowds of drunken revel- 
 lers I had feared — celebrants of the festival of 
 Artemis. Sosthenes the deposed bailiff had upon 
 his master's return not only resumed his office, 
 but plotted revenge upon Melitta. He had told 
 Thersander of her relations with me ( — in fact 
 he was the informer — ) ; then, to alienate Ther- 
 
84 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 sander wholly from Melitta, he offered him Leu- 
 cippe, whom, he said, he had reserved for him. 
 "He had heard that Thersander was alive, had 
 believed it because he wished it so, but had said 
 nothing in order to make sure of entrapping 
 Melitta and her paramour. As for the girl, 
 Melitta meant to liberate her, but Fortune had 
 kept her for Thersander: she was then in the 
 country, and could be locked up against his com- 
 ing." iv. Thersander told him to lose no time ; 
 and Sosthenes, going at once to the country and 
 rinding Leucippe at the hut where she was to pass 
 the night, covered her mouth with his hand, and 
 carried her off to a lonely house. To reassure 
 her, he told her his master was to be her lover, 
 and asked that in her luck she should not forget 
 him! She was silent. Hurrying back, Sos- 
 thenes found Thersander just returning home, 
 but so inflamed him by a description of Leucippe 
 that he decided to go to her at once. v. They 
 were on their way when they met me. Disguised 
 though I was, Sosthenes recognized me; my 
 guide, who saw them first, ran off without warn- 
 ing; Thersander seized and began to abuse me; 
 a crowd gathered ; and I was taken to prison and 
 charged with adultery. Nothing of all this gave 
 me much concern, for my marriage with Melitta 
 had been public ; but I augured evil for Leucippe. 
 vi. Thersander found her lying on the ground 
 with dejected countenance, upon which grief and 
 fear were plainly depicted. (Indeed, the mind 
 is not invisible at all, but is mirrored in the coun- 
 tenance.) When she heard the door open, she 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 85 
 
 raised her eyes a moment, and Thersander saw 
 them by a little light that burned in the cottage. 
 Enamored instantly, he cried: "Why pour out 
 the beauty of your eyes upon the ground? 
 Rather pour it into mine." vii. Leucippe burst 
 into tears, and looked all the lovelier. (Tears 
 intensify the expression of the eye : if ugly, they 
 render it uglier; if beautiful, then the dark iris in 
 the midst of the white ring becomes like the well- 
 ing breast of a fountain overflowing; under the 
 moisture, the white becomes richer and the dark 
 becomes empurpled, like narcissus and violet; 
 and the tears smile.) Such were Leucippe's 
 tears, which might well have turned into a new 
 kind of amber. Thersander also wept. (A 
 woman's tears naturally draw sympathetic tears 
 from a man — the more, the more abundant: add 
 that she is beautiful and he her lover, and her 
 weeping becomes irresistible. Her beauty moves 
 from her eyes to his, drawing with it a fount of 
 tears : the beauty he eagerly drinks into his soul ; 
 but the tears he is careful to keep in his eyes. 
 He will not dry them, or even move his eyelids, 
 lest the tears vanish ere she see them; for they 
 bear witness to his love.) His tears, then, were 
 due partly to genuine human feeling ; partly to his 
 wish to make a good show. At any rate, he took 
 his departure for the time, promising soon to 
 dry her tears. 
 
 viii. Meanwhile Melitta having sent for Leu- 
 cippe learned that she could not be found; and, 
 further, that I had been committed to prison. 
 Though she knew nothing certainly, she sus- 
 
86 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 pected Sosthenes ; and as she was determined to 
 find out what she could from Thersander, she 
 thought out a plan wherein truth and subtlety 
 were mingled, ix. Accordingly, when Ther- 
 sander came in, bawling out that as she had set 
 her paramour free, she had better go and see 
 him again in prison, she answered coolly that 
 there was no such thing as a paramour in the 
 case: the young man was neither her husband 
 nor her lover. He was of an excellent Tyrian 
 family; hearing of his shipwreck she had taken 
 him in out of pure pity, thinking of Thersander's 
 shipwreck and of the chance that some kind 
 woman might take him in. Indeed when she at 
 last believed Thersander dead, she had helped 
 many who had been cast away, and had buried 
 many bodies recovered from the sea — all for his 
 sake! Clitophon was merely the last of a large 
 number of eleemosynaries. " As for my relations 
 with him," she concluded, "he was deploring a 
 wife whom he thought dead, — when news came 
 that she had been bought by Sosthenes ; and such 
 was the fact. It was for this reason that Clito- 
 phon came with me to Ephesus. You may, if 
 you like, verify my statements by means of Sos- 
 thenes and the woman; and from the truth of 
 these infer the truth of all." x. In all this, she 
 pretended not to know of Leucippe's disappear- 
 ance. That knowledge she was treasuring up in 
 case Thersander should investigate : then the ser- 
 vants who had gone out with Leucippe would 
 bear witness that Melitta had done all she could 
 to find and keep safe the wife of Clitophon, but 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 87 
 
 that Leucippe had disappeared. Having acted 
 her part convincingly so far, she added : " Rumor, 
 to be sure, has been busy about my relations with 
 Clitophon : but then, rumor had it that you were 
 dead! Who can trust rumor? (Tirade: Rumor 
 and Calumny — kindred evils ! Rumor is the 
 daughter of Calumny, etc., etc.) It is these 
 two that have been my foes, — these two that have 
 stopped your ears against me." xi. Then 
 she tried to kiss his hand. He was almost 
 persuaded : — all seemed so plausible, so consistent 
 with what Sosthenes had told him of Leucippe. 
 But his jealousy was not wholly allayed; and his 
 hatred of me was only exacerbated by the news 
 that Leucippe was my wife. He said he should 
 make all due investigations, and then went to 
 bed alone. 
 
 Sosthenes went a little way with his master 
 [ante vii, ad fin.] ; then, returning, told Leucippe 
 that all was going well: Thersander was madly 
 in love with her, and might perhaps even marry 
 her! "If so," he concluded, "you have me to 
 thank ! " xii. " May the gods requite you with 
 equal happiness ! " cried Leucippe. Sosthenes 
 not perceiving her irony went on to praise Ther- 
 sander — his birth, his wealth, his youth and per- 
 sonal attractions. This was more than Leucippe 
 could endure. " Beast ! " she exclaimed, " cease 
 defiling my ears with talk of your Thersander. 
 What's he to me? Let him be handsome for 
 Melitta, rich for his country's weal, but kind and 
 generous to those in need! Be he nobler-born 
 than Codrus, and richer than Croesus, I care not. 
 
8S THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 / will praise him when he stops insulting other 
 men's wives ! " " You're jesting," said Sos- 
 thenes. " Not I," answered Leucippe, " leave me 
 to my ill hap, evil enough without your talk. I 
 know full well I am fallen into a den of pirates." 
 " You're crazy ! " exclaimed Sosthenes. " Do you 
 call wealth and marriage and dainty living 
 piracy ? Why, Fortune gives you a husband 
 whom the gods themselves love." And he gave 
 her an embroidered account of Thersander's 
 escape, making it a greater marvel than that of 
 Arion. " Look to it," he concluded, " that you do 
 not exasperate Thersander, kind as he is ; for his 
 anger once provoked will be proportional to his 
 former goodwill." So much for Leucippe. 
 
 xiv. Clinias and Satyrus, informed by Melitta 
 of my imprisonment, came to see me, and wished to 
 pass the night with me, but were not permitted by 
 the jailer. I asked them to come again in the 
 morning and bring me whatever news they could 
 get of Leucippe. When I was left alone, and 
 thought over Melitta's promises, my mind was 
 balanced between hope and fear : the hoping part 
 was afraid, and the fearing part hoped. 
 
 xv. Next morning Sosthenes reported to his 
 master; but instead of giving a true account of 
 his failure, he said that Leucippe merely feared 
 she should be abandoned after yielding. " She 
 may be easy on that score," said Thersander, 
 "my love for her is deathless. But I wonder 
 whether she is that fellow's wife." At this point 
 in their conversation they reached the cottage, 
 and heard her soliloquizing within : xvi. " Alas, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION $9 
 
 Clitophon, neither of us knoweth where the other 
 lies confined. Were you not also insulted by 
 Thersander? Often have I desired to ascertain 
 these things from Sosthenes: but if I called you 
 husband, I feared still further to irritate Ther- 
 sander against you; if I inquired as concerning 
 a stranger, that too would excite suspicion. O 
 Clitophon, faithful husband of Leucippe, you 
 who would not yield to another woman even 
 when she lay by your side,— though I, unloving, 
 believed you had yielded ! — what now shall I say 
 to Thersander ? Shall I throw up my acted part, 
 and reveal myself — daughter of the Byzantine 
 general, wife of Clitophon the first citizen of 
 Tyre, myself no Thessalian, not Lacaena, but 
 robbed by pirates of my very name? He would 
 scarce believe me— but if he did, I fear for you. 
 My freedom of speech must not ruin him who is 
 dearest to me. So be it, then ; I resume my role, 
 and am once more Lacaena." xvii. At this, 
 Thersander exclaimed : " Ah, that adulterer sup- 
 plants me everywhere. Melitta loves him, Leu- 
 cippe loves him: the rogue is a wizard. Would 
 I were he ! " Sosthenes urged his master on. 
 " To be sure," he said, " Leucippe loves him now, 
 but she's never seen anybody else. Further- 
 more, a woman loves an absent lover only till she 
 finds a present one. Ply her briskly, man!" 
 Thersander took courage, for his desire coincided 
 with his belief and his hope, and made them 
 stronger, xviii. After waiting a short time, that 
 Leucippe might not suspect he had overheard her 
 soliloquy, Thersander entered. He was at once 
 
90 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 inflamed by Leucippe, but dissembling his excite- 
 ment, sat down beside her and talked incoher- 
 ently of one thing and another. (So it is with a 
 lover when he talks to his beloved. His mind is 
 all absorbed by her, and his tongue babbles on 
 unguided by reason.) While he talked he tried 
 to embrace her; she resisted; and there ensued 
 a struggle: Thersander at length desisting, Leu- 
 cippe said: "You are acting neither like a free 
 man nor like a man well-born. You imitate 
 Sosthenes: like slave, like master. Spare your 
 pains : you will not succeed unless you turn into 
 Clitophon." xix. Thersander was torn between 
 desire and rage. (Anger and desire: their 
 enmity; their alliance.) xx. All his efforts 
 proving vain, his love gave way to wrath: he 
 smote her in the face and called her a lascivious 
 slave; told her that he had overheard all about 
 her love for an adulterer, that she ought to be 
 glad he even spoke to her, and that if she would 
 not have him for lover, she should feel his power 
 as master. " I will bear all except dishonor," 
 said Leucippe; and turning to Sosthenes: "You 
 know how I meet attempts upon my chastity." 
 Shamed by this exposure of his conduct, Sos- 
 thenes advised Thersander to scourge and torture 
 Leucippe. xxi. " Ay, do ! " cried Leucippe — 
 "bring on your rack, your wheel, your whips, 
 your fire, your iron. I stand ready — one woman 
 against all your tortures — and victorious over all ! 
 You who call Clitophon adulterer, but would 
 yourself commit adultery — do you not fear Arte- 
 mis? — you who would force a maid in the city 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 9 1 
 
 of the maiden goddess?" "A maid forsooth!" 
 sneered Thersander, " after passing through the 
 hands of pirates?" "A maid I am," replied 
 Leucippe, "and that despite Sosthenes. Ask 
 him! He was my pirate: none of the others 
 carried his insolence as far: this is the real 
 pirates' den.— But come : I can only gain by the 
 torture you propose. It will be said : ' She saved 
 her virginity from pirates, from Chaereas, from 
 Sosthenes ;— all this is naught : she saved it from 
 Thersander, more lustful than all; and he who 
 could not dishonor her, killed her.' On with the 
 torture, then ! I am a woman, naked and alone ; 
 but one weapon I possess, my free spirit, which 
 neither blows shall break, nor steel cut off, nor 
 fire consume." 
 
 Book VII 
 
 i. Thersander's mind fluctuated between grief, 
 anger, and deliberation. For the present he left 
 Leucippe, and after taking counsel with Sostra- 
 tus, requested my jailer to poison me. The jailer 
 declined, as his predecessor, who had poisoned a 
 prisoner, had been put to death. Then Ther- 
 sander arranged that a pretended prisoner should 
 be placed in my cell, to inform me casually that 
 Leucippe had been murdered, by the contrivance 
 of Melitta. The purpose was twofold: if I 
 should be acquitted of the charge of adultery, I 
 should, first, believing Leucippe dead, make no 
 further search for her, who would then be left 
 wholly at Thersander's disposal ; and, second, be- 
 lieving Melitta guilty of the murder of my be- 
 loved, should have nothing further to do with 
 
92 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 her, but leave Ephesus as quickly as possible, 
 ii. The fellow being brought in began to play his 
 part at once. He groaned, and exclaimed upon 
 his bad luck — speaking to himself, but at me, in 
 order to excite my curiosity. I paid no atten- 
 tion to him, but at length one of my fellow- 
 prisoners asked what had brought him there, and 
 began by relating his own story, iii. Then the 
 decoy in return told his tale : Yesterday as I was 
 going to Smyrna I fell in with a young man by 
 the way, and we went on together till we came to 
 an inn, where we stopped for dinner. While we 
 ate, four men came in, and sitting down at a table 
 near by, pretended to eat, but continually looked 
 at us, making signs to one another. At length 
 my companion turned pale, ate more and more 
 hesitatingly, and began to tremble, — whereupon 
 the four jumped up, seized us both, and bound 
 us. One of them struck my companion, who 
 cried out as if under torture: 'I did it — I killed 
 the girl. But it was Melitta paid me for the 
 job — Thersander's wife. Here's my pay — a hun- 
 dred gold pieces — take them and let me go.' " At 
 the names Melitta and Thersander, I started as if 
 stung, and asked "What Melitta?" "Why, the 
 Melitta," he answered, "a lady of rank here. 
 She fell in love with a young fellow — a Tyrian 
 they say — , but he already had a mistress among 
 Melitta's slaves ; and Melitta out of jealousy had 
 her murdered by the fellow that bad luck threw 
 in my way. Well — they took me up as his ac- 
 complice, — innocent as I am, but they let him 
 off, all because he gave them the money." 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 93 
 
 iv. At this story I neither groaned nor wept: 
 I had neither voice nor tear ; but I shuddered ; my 
 heart was loosed, and my soul almost departed. 
 When I had recovered somewhat, I questioned 
 him further; but he professed to know nothing 
 more. — Then at last my tears came. (Just as, 
 when the body has been smitten, the bruise 
 does not at once appear, but reddens after a 
 little ; or as, when one has been wounded by a 
 boar's tooth, the wound, deep-seated, cannot at 
 first even be found, but after a little a white line 
 appears, precursor of the blood, which soon flows 
 freely: so when the soul has been wounded by 
 the dart of grief, shot by a word, the wound does 
 not appear at first, and tears follow only a long 
 way after. For tears are the blood of a wounded 
 soul. And when grief's tooth has somewhat 
 gnawed at the heart, only then do the eyes open 
 the gate of tears.) v. I now broke forth in 
 lamentations: "Alas, Leucippe, shall I never 
 cease to weep for thee? How many deaths hast 
 thou died? How often been the plaything of 
 Fortune? Those other deaths indeed were For- 
 tune's jests, but not this last one : that is deadly 
 earnest. From those, again, I had the solace of 
 saving some part of thee — thy body, whole or 
 headless ; but now I have lost both thy soul and 
 thy body. Two dens of thieves didst thou 
 escape, only to succumb to this piracy of 
 Melitta's. And to think that I, infamous and 
 impious, have embraced thy murderer, and have 
 given to her, ere I gave to thee, the offerings of 
 Aphrodite ! " vi. At this point, Clinias came to 
 
94 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 see me; and I told him the story, and said I 
 contemplated suicide. He tried to dissuade me : 
 "Wait till you are sure that Leucippe is dead. 
 You know she has a way of coming to life again. 
 Wait at all events: there's always time to die." 
 " What can be more certain than her death ? " I 
 replied, "Besides, I will die in such a way that 
 Melitta shall not escape. I will plead guilty to 
 the charge of adultery, and will further confess 
 that Melitta and I together contrived Leucippe's 
 death ! " From this resolution Clinias vainly 
 endeavored to dissuade me. — That day he and 
 Satyrus changed their lodgings, in order to be no 
 longer with Melitta's foster-brother. On that 
 day, too, the decoy prisoner was liberated, under 
 pretence of being sent before the magistrate. 
 
 vii. Next day I was taken to court, where 
 Thersander appeared with a great following, and 
 no less than ten advocates. Melitta also had 
 prepared a careful defense. When the advocates 
 had done talking, I asked to be heard. " All this 
 is naught to the purpose : " said I, " the facts are 
 these. A long time ago I loved a woman of 
 Byzantium named Leucippe. Believing her to 
 be dead, for she had been captured by pirates in 
 Egypt, I met Melitta, and we have since lived 
 together. Upon our arrival here, we found 
 Leucippe a slave to Sosthenes, Thersander's 
 bailiff. Just how a free woman became his slave, 
 or what was his complicity with the pirates, is 
 for you to determine. When Melitta learned 
 that I had found my first wife, she feared to lose 
 my affection and plotted to kill Leucippe. I 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 95 
 
 joined in the scheme — why should I deny the 
 truth ? — as Melitta promised to put me in posses- 
 sion of her property. For a hundred pieces of 
 gold I hired an assassin, who, having done the 
 deed, has disappeared. But Love has punished 
 me: as soon as I heard that Leucippe was dead, 
 I repented — for I loved and still love her. It is 
 for this reason that I accuse myself, — that you 
 may send me to my beloved. A murderer, and a 
 lover of her I murdered, I will no longer endure 
 to live." viii. My speech astonished them all. 
 Thersander's lawyers already claimed a victory; 
 Melitta's were thrown into confusion. Ques- 
 tioned by them, she agitatedly admitted some 
 things and denied others; so that they hardly 
 knew what defense to adopt, ix. At this junc- 
 ture Clinias asked a hearing, as this was a capital 
 case : " Ephesians," he said, " be not rash to con- 
 demn a man who asks death as a boon. He has 
 falsely accused himself, taking upon himself the 
 guilt of others." He proceeded to point out the 
 inconsistency of my killing the woman I loved 
 and loving the woman I killed, and of my loving 
 Melitta and still implicating her in the murder of 
 Leucippe. He added that I merely believed Leu- 
 cippe to have been murdered ; and recounted the 
 facts as to Sosthenes's attempts upon her, to- 
 gether with the story of the false prisoner. He 
 then suggested that this man, and Sosthenes, and 
 the maids who accompanied Leucippe, be called 
 as witnesses. In conclusion he urged that I be 
 not condemned at least till this further testimony 
 had been heard; for that my grief had put me 
 
96 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 out of mv mind, so that my confession was 
 naught, x. Though many deemed this a reason- 
 able argument, Thersander's counsel demanded 
 immediate sentence upon the self-confessed mur- 
 derer. Melitta produced her maids, and required 
 Thersander to produce Sosthenes. But Ther- 
 sander instead secretly sent Sosthenes warning 
 to get out of the way. Sosthenes, who was with 
 Leucippe when he received the message, was so 
 scared that he at once took horse for Smyrna, 
 riding off in such a hurry that he neglected to 
 secure the door. xi. Thersander, in reply to 
 Clinias, urged that sentence be pronounced : what 
 Clinias had said was all irrelevant, or, if relevant, 
 might be admitted. Certainly Sosthenes had 
 bought a slave-girl; certainly the girl had been 
 in Melitta's hands : that was all Sosthenes could 
 testify to. " But what have this precious lot, 
 this self-confessed murderer and his defender, 
 done with my property — that very slave-girl ? " 
 he continued, — making this point in order to sup- 
 port his claim to Leucippe, when she should be 
 found alive. "And as for the maids who were 
 with her, you hardly expect that they will prove 
 to have witnessed the murder — do you? Doubt- 
 less they were separated from her at some con- 
 venient place in order that these people's hirelings 
 might do their work in secret. That story of 
 another prisoner — who ever heard such a cock- 
 and-bull story as that? And Sosthenes — where, 
 I ask, is Sosthenes ? I strongly suspect that they 
 have made away with him too, and that this 
 man of words demands him in order to em- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 97 
 
 barrass me. I don't know where he is, — haven't 
 seen him for three days ; and his disappearance 
 is very suspicious, inasmuch as he it was who 
 first informed me of the adultery. Doubtless 
 these people are none too fond of him! — But 
 now, judgment! Not without the intervention 
 of the deity has the prisoner confessed." xii. 
 Thersander swore that he did not know what had 
 become of Sosthenes. The judge, after advising 
 with his counsellors, then pronounced sentence of 
 death upon me. Melitta's portion of the case 
 was to be adjourned till the testimony of the ser- 
 vants could be taken; Thersander was to put in 
 writing his oath as to Sosthenes ; finally, I, being 
 outlawed by my condemnation, was to be ex- 
 amined under torture concerning Melitta's com- 
 plicity in the murder. I was soon bound, 
 stripped, and hung up by cords ; some brought 
 scourges, others the wheel and the fire; — when 
 lo — the priest of Artemis was seen approaching : 
 — the sign of a sacred embassy. During the 
 period of such sacrifices all punishments were 
 suspended; and I was therefore released. — The 
 chief of the embassy was no other than Leu- 
 cippe's father Sostratus. Artemis had appeared 
 to the Byzantines and given them victory against 
 the Thracians, in gratitude wherefor the victors 
 had sent this offering. Moreover she had ap- 
 peared to Sostratus in a dream, and had revealed 
 to him that he should find his daughter, and his 
 brother's son, at Ephesus. Such was the ex- 
 planation of his presence. 
 
 xiii. When Leucippe found the cottage door 
 8 
 
98 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 left open, and no sign of Sosthenes, she took 
 courage, remembering how often she had been 
 saved, and determined to utilize her good For- 
 tune. She at once retreated to the temple of 
 Artemis, and there took sanctuary. This temple 
 was open to men, to free maids, and to slaves 
 whether maids or not; but a free woman not a 
 maid was not permitted to enter it, and if she 
 did so was put to death. (A slave might take 
 refuge there to appeal to the law against her 
 master: if he were adjudged to be in the right, 
 he resumed the slave, first swearing to bear her 
 no ill-will for her flight; if her complaint were 
 well-founded, she remained in the temple as a 
 servant of the goddess.) Hither Leucippe came 
 at the time when Sostratus had taken the priest 
 to court ; so that she narrowly missed her father, 
 xiv. When I was released, a great crowd 
 gathered about me; among them Sostratus, who 
 having seen me in Tyre at a festival of Hercules 
 some time before our flight, recognized me at 
 once — the more readily as his dream had led him 
 to expect to find us — and cried out : " Here is 
 Clitophon — now where is Leucippe?" I cast 
 down my eyes and said nothing; but the by- 
 standers told him of what I had accused myself. 
 At this he struck me on the head, and almost 
 pulled my eyes out; for, far from resisting, I 
 rather offered my countenance to his blows. 
 Clinias coming forward endeavored to pacify 
 him. "This man," he said, "loves Leucippe 
 more dearly than you do; and it is only because 
 he believes her to be dead that he has thus 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 99 
 
 accused himself/' But Sostratus lamented, calling 
 upon Artemis : " Is this the outcome of the dream 
 you sent? You promised me my daughter — you 
 give me her murderer ! " Again Clinias an- 
 swered : " Courage, father, — Artemis never de- 
 ceives. Leucippe is alive, you may be sure. See 
 how wonderfully the goddess has rescued Clito- 
 phon from torture ! " xv. At that moment one 
 of the ministers of the temple ran up to the priest, 
 saying, "A foreign maiden has just taken refuge 
 in the sanctuary." I began to take hope, and 
 seemed almost to live once more. " Is she not 
 beautiful?" asked Clinias. "Only Artemis her- 
 self surpasses her," was the answer. " Tis Leu- 
 cippe ! " I cried. " 'Twas even so she named 
 herself," said the minister, " and declared herself 
 to be Sostratus' daughter, of Byzantium." 
 Clinias broke into rapturous applause, Sostratus 
 fainted for joy, and I jumped up despite my 
 chains, and made for the temple as if shot from 
 a catapult. My guards, thinking I was trying to 
 escape, gave chase, but my feet were winged. At 
 length I was stopped, and the guards coming up 
 would have struck me; but I now resisted; and 
 they dragged me towards the prison, xvi. Cli- 
 nias and Sostratus came up again and remon- 
 strated with the guards, declaring me not guilty 
 of the murder for which I had been condemned, 
 and protesting against my further imprisonment. 
 As the guards declared that they were not allowed 
 to release a condemned prisoner, the priest at 
 Sostratus' request became my bail, promising to 
 guard me, and to produce me in court whenever 
 
IOO THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 required. Freed from my chains, I ran with all 
 speed to the temple, Sostratus following. But 
 Rumor had outstripped us both; and already 
 Leucippe knew about both Sostratus and me. 
 She darted out of the temple and threw her arms 
 about her father, but at the same time turned her 
 eyes to me. Restrained by respect for Sostratus, 
 I stood still ; but was wholly absorbed in looking 
 at Leucippe ; so that we embraced with our eyes. 
 
 Book VIII 
 
 i. As we were about to sit down and talk 
 matters over, Thersander came up, accompanied 
 by witnesses, and abused the priest, both for 
 liberating a prisoner under sentence and for de- 
 taining Thersander's slave, a lewd woman. 
 " Slave yourself and debauchee ! " I answered, 
 " She is a free woman, a maiden, and worthy 
 of the goddess." At that he struck me re- 
 peatedly on the nose, so that the blood flowed, — 
 until his fist happened to hit my teeth. My teeth 
 avenged the injury done to my nose, and he 
 drew back his hand with a yell. Feigning not to 
 observe his hurt, I made a tragic outcry: ii. 
 "What place is safe from the impious, when 
 the very temples of the gods are violated? Such 
 deeds are wont to be done in lonely places where 
 no eye can see ; but you commit them in the very 
 sight of the goddess. The temple gives asylum 
 even to criminals ; but you outrage an innocent 
 man. Your violence is done to Artemis herself. 
 Not only in blows does it consist, but in actual 
 bloodshed. What a libation ! Ionia you turn into 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION IOI 
 
 Scythia, and at Ephesus emulate the barbarous 
 Taurians, who defile their altars with blood. 
 Why not draw your sword upon me ? — But what 
 need? Your murderous hand will suffice." iii. 
 At this an indignant crowd gathered and re- 
 proached him, as did also the priest. En- 
 couraged by their demonstrations, I exclaimed : 
 " Men of Ephesus, behold what I suffer — a free 
 man, and a citizen of no mean city — my life con- 
 spired against by this man, and saved only by 
 Artemis, who has shown him forth as a calum- 
 niator. But now it befits me to go forth and 
 wash my face, lest the holy water be defiled with 
 the blood of violence." Thersander, as he was 
 thrust forth, said : " Upon you, sentence has been 
 passed, and execution cannot tarry long; as for 
 this strumpet who would pass for a maid — the 
 syrinx shall judge of her." iv. I then washed 
 my face, and went to supper with the priest, who 
 received us most kindly. At first we were all 
 silent; I ashamed to look Sostratus in the face; 
 Sostratus unwilling to look at my eyes, swollen 
 by his blows ; Leucippe with her eyes cast down. 
 At length, when the wine had somewhat cheered 
 us, the priest requested Sostratus to tell his story. 
 But he passed the privilege on to me. " Speak 
 freely, son," he said, "and without embarrass- 
 ment. The griefs I have suffered are to be 
 attributed chiefly not to you but to the divinity. 
 Moreover, the narration of griefs which one no 
 longer suffers, is a pleasure." v. Accordingly I 
 told the whole story, from our leaving Tyre to 
 the arrival of the sacred embassy, suppressing 
 
102 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 only my actual intercourse with Melitta. I went 
 on to praise Leucippe's fortitude in enduring 
 trials even more cruel in order to preserve her 
 virginity ; and I assured Sostratus that we had 
 not brought our marriage to its consummation: 
 if there were maidenhead in men, I was virgin 
 as to Leucippe; while she was true to Artemis. 
 I then deprecated the displeasure of Aphrodite — 
 for that we had awaited only the presence of 
 Leucippe's father to approve our nuptials — and 
 invoked her favor for the future. " But what," 
 I asked the priest, " is the meaning of Ther- 
 sander's threat about the syrinx?" vi. (He an- 
 swered by describing the pipes of Pan, and 
 their construction according of the laws of har- 
 mony, and by recounting the myth of Pan and 
 Syrinx.) "The pipe of Pan," he continued, 
 " now hangs in a cavern in the grove behind the 
 temple, and, having been consecrated to Artemis, 
 affords a test of virginity. She who is to under- 
 go the ordeal enters the cave, and is shut in. If 
 she be a clean maid, the pipes emit sweet sounds, 
 the doors open of themselves, and she appears 
 crowned with pine. If not, a groan is heard, the 
 pipes are mute, and she is left to her fate. After 
 three days the priestess enters, and finds the 
 syrinx fallen to the ground ; but the woman has 
 vanished. If, now, as I hope, Leucippe is a 
 virgin, you may joyfully submit to the ordeal ; but 
 if not — for you know what she may against her 
 will have been compelled to suffer in the course 
 of such perils — " vii. Here Leucippe inter- 
 rupted, expressing her entire willingness to take 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION IO3 
 
 the ordeal ; and the priest congratulated her upon 
 her virtue and her fortune. To both Leucippe 
 and me it seemed that Sostratus somewhat feared 
 the issue; accordingly, as she embraced him on 
 retiring, she assured him again, upon her oath by 
 Artemis, that we had spoken the truth. Then 
 we all went to bed. 
 
 Next day the sacred embassy fulfilled its mis- 
 sion; and Thersander, present at the sacrifice, 
 asked that the case be set down for the morrow. 
 His request was granted, viii. When the trial 
 opened, Thersander said : " I cannot do justice to 
 this case, so complicated is it with a variety of 
 crimes. An adulterer murders other people's 
 slaves ; a murderer commits adultery ; bullies and 
 harlots defile the sanctuary. Where shall I be- 
 gin, then ? The simplest point is this : — you have 
 sentenced a man to death : — why is he not exe- 
 cuted? Instead, he stands here free, and will 
 dare to speak against your judgment. I demand 
 that the sentence be read. ' Clitophon is to die.' 
 Where is the executioner? Let him do his duty. 
 Clitophon is in law already dead, and has lived 
 a day too long. Now to you, Sir Priest. What 
 is your excuse for liberating this prisoner? Let 
 the Court step down and abdicate its jurisdiction 
 to you. Come, take your seat as tyrant over us 
 all, next in worship after Artemis! Indeed, 
 Artemis's peculiar privilege of sanctuary — that 
 asylum for the unfortunate, but not for the 
 criminal — you have already usurped! You give 
 it to a condemned murderer and adulterer; him 
 and his shameless paramour, a runaway slave, 
 
104 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 you shelter under the same roof with the maiden 
 goddess. You turn the temple into a brothel. 
 My second charge is against Melitta for adultery, 
 and here I demand that her maids be subjected 
 to the torture. If she be innocent, well; if 
 guilty, let her forfeit her property to me. In 
 that case, too, Clitophon's guilt is proved, and 
 he must suffer death for adultery. Guilty of 
 both crimes, if he suffer for only one he will 
 evade justice : he ought to die two deaths ; and 
 though punished he will remain unpunished.— 
 My third point concerns this slave of mine ; — but 
 upon that I reserve what I have to say until you 
 have decided respecting the other two." 
 
 ix. The priest now replied, beginning in an 
 Aristophanic vein by exposing Thersander's mode 
 of life, whom he accused of all imaginab'e foulness. 
 He next rebutted the charge against himself, by 
 appealing to the judges' knowledge of the purity 
 of his own life. Then he pleaded for me, that 
 the very woman I was charged with murdering 
 was at that moment alive! In the face of this, 
 how could the sentence hold ? Thersander it was 
 who would play the tyrant; he would have men 
 imprisoned of his own motion, would try them 
 and judge them in his own house: the judge had 
 better resign in his favor. As for murder, Ther- 
 sander had plotted double murder: he had in 
 words done Leucippe to death ; and Clitophon he 
 had fain done to death indeed. " But Artemis 
 has saved them both," the priest concluded, 
 " snatching Clitophon from Thersander, and Leu- 
 cippe from Sosthenes, — whom no other than 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 105 
 
 Thersander has put out of the way. So much 
 for my defense." x. When the advocate for 
 Melitta and me rose to speak, one of Thersander's 
 counsel, named Sopater, took the floor first. He 
 accused the priest of improper conduct with both 
 Leucippe and me; averred that Thersander had 
 been a man of pure life who had married a lewd 
 woman; and enlarged upon the circumstances — 
 publicity, etc., of Melitta's alleged adultery, xi. 
 Thersander interrupted him : " Let us waste no 
 more words. I challenge Leucippe and Melitta 
 to the ordeal, in the following terms (and he read 
 aloud) : ' If Melitta have not committed adultery 
 with Clitophon during my absence, let her go into 
 the sacred fountain of the Styx. If Leucippe ad- 
 mit that she is not a virgin let her (die or) be my 
 slave, for only to virgins or to slaves does the 
 temple afford sanctuary; if she insist that she is 
 a virgin, let her be shut into the cave of the 
 syrinx.' " Leucippe accepted the challenge ; 
 Melitta not only accepted it, but asked Ther- 
 sander to what penalty he would submit if his 
 charge proved groundless. " I will submit," he 
 replied, "to whatever the law decrees." The 
 court then appointed the following day for the 
 ordeals, and adjourned. 
 
 xii. This is the legend of the Stygian fountain : 
 Rhodopis a beautiful maiden had vowed allegiance 
 to Artemis, who made her a companion of the 
 chase. Aphrodite heard the oath and was 
 angered. At Ephesus there was a beautiful 
 youth named Euthynicus, who, like Rhodopis, 
 loved the chase and disdained love. One day, 
 
106 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Artemis absent, Aphrodite contrived to make the 
 game they followed run to the same place, so 
 that the two approached each other. Then she 
 begged Eros to make an example of this dis- 
 dainful pair. He shot the maiden just as she 
 shot the deer, but his shaft was love for Euthyni- 
 cus. Euthynicus he wounded with a second 
 arrow. Now the pair beheld each other, and at 
 first stood motionless, unwilling to turn away 
 their eyes ; but soon, their wounds inflaming, 
 Eros led them to a grotto, where they broke the 
 oath. When Artemis upon her return saw 
 Aphrodite laugh, she comprehended what had 
 taken place, and she changed Rhodopis into a 
 fountain in that very cave. Hence, a woman 
 whose chastity is suspected is obliged to step into 
 the fountain, bearing suspended from her neck 
 a tablet on which is written her oath. If it be 
 truly sworn, the fountain remains unmoved, 
 midleg deep ; if not, it rises to her neck and over- 
 flows the tablet. 
 
 xiii. Next day, crowds gathered to witness the 
 ordeal. Thersander looked at us with a con- 
 temptuous smile. Leucippe was clad in the 
 sacred robe of fine white linen, reaching to the 
 feet and girt at the waist; her head was en- 
 circled with a purple fillet; her feet were bare. 
 Modestly she entered the cave; and I prayed to 
 Pan — not that I doubted her virginity — but rather 
 that I feared an attempt upon her by Pan him- 
 self. I prayed him, therefore, to be mindful of 
 his compact with Artemis, xiv. While I prayed 
 there was heard a strain of music — the sweetest, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 107 
 
 they said, that had ever issued from the cave — 
 and at once the doors flew open. When Leucippe 
 came forth, the multitude shouted with delight, 
 and vented execrations upon Thersander. What 
 were my transports, I cannot attempt to describe. 
 
 Next everybody went to see Melitta's trial. 
 She too was entirely successful, the fountain not 
 rising in the slightest; and after the allotted 
 time the chief judge led her forth. Thus was 
 Thersander defeated in two ordeals ; and in order 
 to avoid a third — (he feared he should be 
 stoned!) — he made off to his own house. And 
 not too soon ; for he had seen, far off, Sosthenes 
 being dragged in by four young men — relatives 
 of Melitta and their servants — who had been 
 searching for him ; and well he knew that the 
 slave would tell all when put to the torture. 
 That night Thersander fled the city, and Sos- 
 thenes was committed to prison. As for us, we 
 were triumphantly acquitted, to everyone's ap- 
 proval, xv. Next day, Sosthenes made a full 
 confession to avoid the torture, and was re- 
 manded for sentence, while Thersander was 
 banished. 
 
 The priest received us again, and at dinner we 
 related those of our adventures which we had 
 omitted before. Leucippe in particular no longer 
 blushed to tell her experiences ; and I questioned 
 her especially about the mystery of the pirates of 
 Pharos — of the person whose head was cut off — 
 this being the only incident wanting to complete 
 the plot. [See V. vii.] xvi. " The pirates," she 
 answered, "had lured on board a harlot, under 
 
IOS THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 promise that one of them would marry her. 
 They made me change clothes with her ; and then, 
 taking her on the deck, they cut off her head and 
 threw her body into the sea. Afterward, some 
 distance off, they also threw in her head. 
 Whether they had taken her to sell as a slave, or 
 for the purpose of this qui pro quo, I know not ; 
 but if they had entertained the first plan, it was 
 at Chaereas's instance that they gave it up, and 
 it was this that brought about his punishment. 
 For, having sacrificed her, who would have 
 brought them profit, they now proposed to sell 
 me instead, and merely share the proceeds with 
 him. Chaereas protested, reminding them of 
 their agreement, and words rose high — when one 
 of the pirates came up behind and cut off his 
 head. So he too went overboard! After two 
 days' voyage, the pirates took me I know not 
 where, and sold me to the merchant who sold me 
 to Sosthenes." 
 
 xvii. Sostratus then related the remainder of 
 the story of Callisthenes and my sister Calligone. 
 [See II. xviii.] First recapitulating the portion 
 already told — the oracle, the sacrifice and the ab- 
 duction — he continued : " Callisthenes soon dis- 
 covered that the girl he had carried off was not 
 my daughter; but by this time he had fallen in 
 love with Calligone herself. On his knees he 
 implored her pardon for his violence, revealed his 
 birth and rank, averred that only love had made 
 him turn pirate, offered her honorable marriage, 
 and declared himself her slave. She was brought 
 thus to favor him. When they reached Byzan- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 109 
 
 tium, he assigned her an ample dowry and made 
 splendid preparations for the wedding, — all the 
 time treating her with scrupulous honor ; so that 
 he gradually won her affection. He became 
 wonderfully altered in character : grew courteous 
 instead of insolent, liberal instead of extravagant, 
 and so public-spirited, so respectful to his elders, 
 that I recalled the case of Themistocles, and re- 
 gretted that I had not granted him my daughter's 
 hand. He now qualified himself, too, for mili- 
 tary service, became an adept in cavalry exer- 
 cise, contributed largely to the war with the 
 Thracians, and at length was chosen my colleague 
 in the command. Here also he distinguished 
 himself, and always with modesty, xviii. When 
 we were finally victorious, and had returned to 
 Byzantium, it was decreed that sacred embassies 
 take thank-offerings to Artemis and to Hercules ; 
 so that I was sent to Ephesus and he to Tyre. 
 Before setting out he told me the whole story of 
 the escapade which had turned out so creditably, 
 and added that he should ask the consent of 
 Calligone's father at Tyre, and either marry her 
 with all due regard to law, or give her back a 
 maiden. I wrote to my brother, supporting 
 Callisthenes's suit. Now if we win the appeal 
 Thersander has instituted, I should like, after re- 
 turning to Byzantium, to go to Tyre." xix. It 
 was on the next day that we learned from Clinias 
 of Thersander's flight from the city; whose ap- 
 peal, after three days, lapsed by his default. We 
 then embarked for Byzantium, where we were 
 married; and a short time later, we sailed for 
 
110 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Tyre, which we reached two days after the 
 arrival of Callisthenes and Calligone. Next day 
 we assisted at their wedding, uniting our prayers 
 for the happiness of both the marriages. We 
 planned, after wintering at Ephesus, to return to 
 Byzantium in the spring. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Plot, Character (Humor), Setting; Struc- 
 ture, Style 
 
 The Greek Romances, evidently, have for their 
 material the staples of the world's fiction — love 
 and adventure, more or less interwoven ; and it 
 is upon this generic similarity in matter that 
 their specific differences in treatment are thrown 
 into relief. For the present purpose, which is 
 rather to characterize critically the Greek Ro- 
 mance than to appreciate separately the Greek 
 Romances, it will suffice to draw attention to 
 some of the differences without dwelling on them. 
 The comparison will serve the descriptive pur- 
 pose in view, and will at the same time serve to 
 modify, as far as may be needful, the generaliza- 
 tions put forward in the introductory sketch. 
 
 In their plots, Heliodorus, Longus, and 
 Achilles Tatius all employ, as has been observed, 
 some agency other than natural causation and 
 human character. Heliodorus distributes the 
 extra-human action in his main plot almost 
 equally between Fortune and Providence — the 
 latter, perhaps, slightly predominating. The ex- 
 posure of Chariclea, which, both chronologically 
 and causally, begins the story, is by common con- 
 sent regarded as an avowed surrender to Fortune 
 (II. xxxi; IV. viii). But immediately Provi- 
 dence sends the good gymnosophist to the rescue 
 in 
 
112 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 — a rescue the providential nature of which is to 
 be inferred indirectly, though clearly enough, 
 from the hieratic estate of Sisimithres, and di- 
 rectly from the assertion of Calasiris (II. xxiii) : 
 "The Goddes have made them my children by 
 chaunce" (U 63), which by its confrontation of 
 " The Goddes " with " chaunce," puts the matter 
 beyond doubt. It is the gods, then, that have 
 controlled, through Fortune as their instrument, 
 the whole of that triple chain of seeming coinci- 
 dences which brought Calasiris, Theagenes, and 
 Chariclea together at Delphi. An examination 
 of these occurrences will show their hieratic char- 
 acter. Charicles a priest of Apollo has received 
 Chariclea from the priestly Sisimithres ; Chari- 
 clea has become a priestess of Diana ; Theagenes 
 has come to Delphi upon a religious mission, and 
 first sees Chariclea at the sacrifice ; Calasiris, him- 
 self a priest of Isis, has been providentially 
 warned of the dangers of his further stay in 
 Memphis, and has appropriately retired to 
 Delphi, 1 where, now, Apollo and Diana by dreams 
 and oracles expressly place him in charge of the 
 hero and the heroine, bid him return with them, 
 and predict for them a happy destiny. Thus 
 Theagenes and Chariclea are passed from one 
 priestly hand to another; even the sudden death 
 of Calasiris, which throws them into the power 
 of Arsace, has been foreseen, and ironically fore- 
 told by the oracle ; till at the end they are saved 
 
 1 On this hieratic element, and its special connection with 
 the cult of sun- and moon-gods (Apollo, Artemis, Isis, etc.) 
 and with the element of travel, see Schwartz, Fiinf Vor- 
 trdge, pp. 17-19* 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION I '3 
 
 by the appearance of the priest Charicles, and 
 their restoration turns into a religious festival. 
 The final emphasis is distinctly hieratic : what is 
 signalized by Heliodorus is not so much the 
 merely human happiness of the personages, as 
 the triumph of the gymnosophists in abolishing 
 human sacrifice, the fulfilment of the Delphic 
 dreams and oracles, and the induction of The- 
 agenes and Chariclea into the priesthood. 
 Though in the whole range of the " JEthiopica " 
 the events attributable to Fortune may exceed in 
 number those attributable to Providence, and 
 though the name of Fortune may be much oftener 
 upon the lips of the actors, this hieratic control, 
 with its assertion of divine guidance, must not 
 be forgotten. It quite decidedly makes for that 
 general elevation of tone which distinguishes 
 Heliodorus. 
 
 Bearing it in mind, we may examine the ac- 
 tivity of Fortune in the " iEthiopica." Besides 
 the initial exposure of Chariclea, already noticed, 
 the following incidents seem fortuitous: the 
 storm which drove the ship from its course and 
 toward the haunt of the robbers (V. xxvii) ; the 
 meetings of Calasiris with Nausicles and with 
 Cnemon (II. xxi) ; the capture of Theagenes and 
 Chariclea by the troops of Mithranes (V. ii) 
 with its consequences — the enslavement of The- 
 agenes, and the restoration of Chariclea to Cala- 
 siris through the agency of Nausicles; the re- 
 capture of Theagenes by the Bessene insurgents 
 under Thyamis (VI. iii) and the consequent 
 presence of Theagenes at Memphis; the inter- 
 
114 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 change of the harmless with the poisoned cup 
 (VIII. vii) ; the capture of Theagenes and Chari- 
 clea by the Ethiopian troops (VIII. xvii), and 
 their consequent restoration to Hydaspes and 
 Persina. Yet, the moment the consequences of 
 many of these apparently fortuitous events are 
 looked into, it is found that they too are en- 
 visaged as providential, — some wholly, like the 
 restoration to Ethiopia promised by the oracle; 
 some partly, like the arrival of Theagenes at 
 Memphis just in time for a reunion with Chari- 
 clea and Calasiris. So that the chief of these 
 incidents — those which are essential to the main 
 plot, must be taken, at least in large part, out 
 of the dominion of chance. 
 
 In the episodes of the tale, though, that do- 
 minion is unquestioned. The story of Cnemon 
 gives no hint of providential guidance; allusions 
 to the control of Fortune abound (I. xiii, xv; 
 II. xi; VI. vii) ; and the ending — Cnemon's mar- 
 riage to the daughter of Nausicles — is quite 
 casual. We have nowhere heard that she or 
 Cnemon gave one another the slightest attention. 
 Suddenly we are told (U 161-2) " Cariclia per- 
 ceived by many signes that Cnemon was in love 
 with Nausicles daughter . . . and that also 
 Nausicles went about ... to make a marriage " 
 between them. He does in fact offer her to 
 Cnemon, who accepts her. The alleged falling in 
 love, the offer, and the acceptance, are all 
 equally unmotived and unprepared for — merely 
 "sprung." Heliodorus has no further use for 
 Cnemon and Nausicles, — that is all ; and he puts 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 15 
 
 them out of his story in as accidental and as 
 summary a manner as he had put out Thermuthis 
 (II. xix). Other episodes — the skill of Tyr- 
 rhenus the deaf fisherman (V. xviii), The- 
 agenes's service at Arsace's table (VII. xxvii), 
 the siege of Syene (IX. v), the attempted as- 
 sassination of Oroondates (IX. xx) — all likewise 
 treat Fortune as a vera causa. 
 
 In the speech of the personages throughout, 
 " Fortune " occurs very frequently, — now as a 
 mere cliche for "whatever happens," or for 
 " estate in life," or for " the instability of things 
 human" (e. g., II. xxi, xxiii; V. v, xiv; X. ii) ; 
 now in real though conventional senses, as a 
 power to complain of or abuse, to yield or not to 
 yield to, and the like (I. xx; V. vi, vii; VI. xiv; 
 VII. xxi ; VIII. vi; X. vii) ; or finally, as always 
 in the episodes, to designate a genuine mover of 
 events (VI. x; VII. xii, xv, xvii; IX. ii; X. 
 xxxiv). But here too the reader is kept re- 
 minded of the enveloping Providence which em- 
 ploys Fortune as an instrument. When The- 
 agenes, about to place himself and Chariclea 
 under the protection of Calasiris, implores him: 
 " Save us. . . . Save our bodies hereafter com- 
 mitted to Fortune," the old priest bids them 
 " hope for a luckie ende, in that this matter was 
 begonne by the will and counsell of the Goddes " 
 (IV. xviii ; U 116-117). In these words of com- 
 fort there is an implied rebuke as well. Chari- 
 cles, too, though he laments the abduction of his 
 adopted daughter, acknowledges that it is more 
 than a mischance: it is a punishment inflicted 
 
Il6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 upon him for sacrilege (IV. xix). And the sub- 
 jection of chance (Tv^rj, tcaipbs, to avro/jiaTov) 
 to the more august Fate or Destiny, or "the 
 Divine" (al nolpai, to elfxapixevov, 6 Saificov, to 
 SatfMopiov, to Trpocopta/xevov) appears plainly in 
 the comment upon Calasiris's opportune arrival 
 under the walls of Memphis : though he " could 
 not escape the necessitie of Destinie," yet he 
 " seemed to use fortunes great favour for that hee 
 came in due time to that which was determined 
 before" (VII. viii ; U 182). 
 
 The assertion generally accepted, that Fortune 
 is absolute ruler of the Greek Romance, seems 
 therefore subject to modification, at least, as re- 
 gards Heliodorus. Incapable he certainly is of 
 moving his story upon a basis of character and 
 causation ; in fact he sometimes seems positively 
 unwilling to do so. In the denouement, where 
 Chariclea is just on the point of revealing her 
 true relation with Theagenes — a perfectly natural 
 disclosure which would have brought about the 
 happy ending by the purely normal means of 
 human motive and action — the author deliber- 
 ately rejects these means in favor of a dens ex 
 machina, Charicles. But though he does take his 
 plot out of the control of character and causation, 
 he does not abandon it to Fortune. At least its 
 main events are controlled by a divine intention, 
 and shadow forth, however dimly, the ways of 
 the gods. Such seems to be the task that Helio- 
 dorus set himself. His way, therefore, of de- 
 liberately unfolding his story upon a plan of epic 
 magnitude, and of interlarding it with fragments 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION H7 
 
 from Homer and the tragedians, is not the in- 
 congruity it may seem at first to be. With the 
 literary instrument afforded him by his decadent 
 time he has attempted great things — things far 
 greater than he can achieve. At least, magnis 
 excidit ausis; and, despite his failure, it is his 
 high aim which saves " Theagenes and Chari- 
 clea " from sinking into the baseness of " Clito- 
 phon and Leucippe." 
 
 If in Heliodorus Providence on the whole con- 
 trols the main plot and Fortune the minor events, 
 this apportionment of power is in large measure 
 reversed by Achilles Tatius. He does, to be 
 sure, give to the episodic novella of Callisthenes 
 and Calligone a conventional hieratic beginning. 
 But all the ceremonial richness of these sacrifices, 
 omens, dreams, and oracles (II. xi-xviii) is 
 lavished upon a mere episode. The main plot is 
 ruled by Fortune: there the oracles and visions 
 are her instruments — riddling devices to shift 
 people to and fro on the earth, to put them into 
 grotesque situations, or to give ex post facto 
 sanction to their reckless acts. Thus Artemis is 
 allowed as a matter of form to pledge the lovers 
 to chastity (IV. i), and at length, after Fortune 
 has played her play out, to restore them to Leu- 
 cippe's father. But — why did they need to be 
 restored at all? Why did they run away? 
 What were they doing in that galley? 
 
 The answer is significant in two ways, which 
 are after all but one: it shows at once Achilles 
 Tatius's distorted treatment of character (and 
 will therefore be touched upon again when char- 
 
Il8 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 acter comes to be discussed), and also his utter 
 dependence upon Fortune to start his story and 
 keep it going. Fortune, he will have it, is to 
 blame for the flight of Clitophon and Leucippe. 
 This exoneration of the lovers is put not in their 
 own mouth only, but in that of the parents whom 
 they have presumably offended. Clitophon's 
 father, we learn (V. x), was much chagrined be- 
 cause Clitophon had lost Leucippe's hand, and 
 "because Fortune had made him lose it by so 
 little: for none of the subsequent events would 
 have occurred if only the letter had been delivered 
 sooner." Undoubtedly, if the letter had come in 
 time, Clitophon and Leucippe would not have 
 been tempted to elope ; but the fallacy consists in 
 the tacit assumption that as the letter did not 
 come in time, therefore it was Fortune that made 
 them elope. In fact and in morals, Fortune be- 
 ing what she was, they still had their choice. — 
 Clitophon himself, as might have been expected, 
 takes this fallacious view, and at once (V. xi) 
 rails upon Fortune. But the most striking pro- 
 mulgation of the fallacy is made by Leucippe's 
 father. Urging Clitophon to tell his adventures, 
 Sostratus assures him that he bears him no ill- 
 will : " For if anything grievous has happened to 
 me, it is chiefly attributable not to you but to 
 Fortune" (VIII. iv). These passages are char- 
 acteristic and important, dealing as they do with 
 what we should call the crucial decision — the first 
 moral choice — which opens the adventures of the 
 hero and the heroine. The view here taken of 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION II9 
 
 Fortune, as something to blame even for a moral 
 choice, and the function here assigned to her, of 
 prime mover of the plot, are confirmed through- 
 out the romance of Achilles Tatius. Clitophon's 
 father has intended Calligone for him, but 
 al Molpai 2 have reserved for him another bride 
 (I. iii) ; Fortune herself appears to him, portends 
 her own cruelties in cutting him apart from his 
 mistress (ibid.) and begins the action ( / nPX ero 
 tov Bpd/jLaTos rj tu%??). After the abortive ren- 
 dezvous the young men determine to take Leu- 
 cippe if she will go; if not, to remain at home 
 and commit themselves to Fortune (II. xxvi) : at 
 length they embark without inquiring whither 
 their ship is bound (II. xxxvi), and commit 
 themselves to Fortune indeed ! So it is from be- 
 ginning to end; and to recount the activity of 
 Fortune in the story is to recount the story itself. 
 Reference to the analysis given in Chapter I. will 
 obviate such a necessity. 3 It will show both the 
 frequency with which Fortune is spoken of by 
 the personages, and the fortuitous character of 
 events not expressly ascribed to her. 
 
 3 As Providence, Destiny, etc., play so small a part in 
 his story, Achilles Tatius has no particular use for the dis- 
 tinction between r^xv and its synonyms on the one hand, 
 and 6 Bat/xojv and its synonyms (al Mo?pcu, for instance) on 
 the other. Only two unimportant passages (III. v and 
 VIII. xix) seem to rest upon such a distinction. Else- 
 where, as at V. xi and VIII. iv above cited, 6 dal/xiov = Tvxrj- 
 In fact Tt>xv herself has almost become a minor goddess, 
 like the Roman Fortuna ; she can be sworn by (V. xvi, xx) 
 as well as at. She is, at the very least, much more a per- 
 sonification than an abstraction. 
 
 8 The analysis of " Clitophon and Leucippe " was made 
 with particular attention to its use for reference, and will 
 serve as an index to the original. 
 
120 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Two points, however, need to be more espe- 
 cially noted, as effects of the absence of Provi- 
 dence from Achilles Tatius's plan. When human 
 activity in a critical situation has been baffled, 
 then not Providence, but Fortune, takes charge. 
 So of Charicles when he cannot control his horse 
 (I. xii) ; so of the eloping party in the storm at 
 sea (III. ii) ; so of Clinias after the waves have 
 torn him from the spar (V. ix). This direct 
 confrontation of Fortune with Man is even more 
 interestingly exemplified when the two powers 
 are regarded as co-operating : either chance helps 
 a human plan already laid (II. iv, vi; III. xxii) 
 or a human being sees an opportunity open, and 
 takes it (I. x; IV. i; VII. xiii). 4 Both the op- 
 position and the co-operation of Man and For- 
 tune (due, as has been seen, to the omission of 
 the third factor, Providence) anticipate the views 
 so characteristic of the Renaissance, that For- 
 tuna is opposed to " Virtu " — viz. the human 
 element, or force of personality; but that Virtu 
 can seize the Opportunity (Occasio, /caipos) from 
 time to time afforded by Fortuna* 
 
 In " Daphnis and Chloe," control is assigned 
 neither to Fortune nor to the gods in general, 
 
 4 The number of cases where Fortune helps the lovers 
 seems to invalidate Koerting's generalization (" Gesch. des 
 franz. Rom. im i7ten Jhdt." I. 31) that love is the motive 
 force, and adventure (i. e., the activity of Fortune) the 
 retarding force, of the plot ; and so renders impossible the 
 temptingly simple treatment suggested thereby. 
 
 8 Chastity, a virtue which forms part of a woman's virtb, 
 is coupled with Fortune at VIII. vii, where the priest con- 
 gratulates Leucippe virkp o-uxppovtivris nal rtxys. At V. xii, 
 Fortune and Nature are contrasted, as at Hel. VII. xxvii. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 121 
 
 but to Eros. Love, whether as a passion or as 
 a person, dominates the plot. The story itself 
 explains a series of paintings which represent 
 "The fortunes of Love" (tu^t/i/ ipcoTLKrjv, Pro- 
 oemium) ; and it is Eros that first disturbs the 
 childish amusements of the boy and the girl (I. 
 xi) and begins their sentimental adventures;— 
 performing thus the function we have so far seen 
 assigned to Fortune, that of giving the initial 
 impulse. The Nymphs who have guarded 
 Daphnis and Chloe in childhood present them 
 to the winged god (I. vii) ; again (II. xxiii) the 
 Nymphs tell Daphnis that Eros will take care of 
 him and Chloe; and (IV. xxxiv) it is Eroswhom 
 the Nymphs request to sanction Daphnis and 
 Chloe's marriage. Pan and the Nymphs, then, 
 to whom, jointly with Eros, the book is dedicated 
 (Procemium), seem to be deputies of Eros in 
 the various visions and rescues in which they 
 figure (II. xxiii, xxvi-xxvii ; III. xxvii) ; while, 
 for both Daphnis and Chloe, the denouement, 
 resulting from the discovery of their parentage, 
 is brought about by Love. In Daphnis's case, it 
 is Gnatho's proposals that determine Lamon 
 (IV. xviii-xix) to reveal the secret; in Chloe's 
 case, it is a direct command from Eros in a 
 vision (IV. xxxiv) that leads to the display of 
 her tokens to the wedding-guests, and the con- 
 sequent recognition of them by her father. 
 
 This plot, controlled by Eros, Eros decrees 
 shall be a pastoral plot: he receives the children 
 from the nymphs, and dedicates them to the 
 
123 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 shepherds' life (I. vii) — an element wholly want- 
 ing in the romances of Heliodorus and Achilles 
 Tatius. Heliodorus makes nothing of Chariclea's 
 childhood among the shepherds (Hel. II. xxxi) 
 and leaves in a rudimentary state his "piscatory 
 eclogue" (V. xviii), — which, however, serves 
 sufficiently its purpose as an interlude, or breath- 
 ing-space between the more stirring adventures. 
 As for Achilles Tatius, he is a cockney absolute ; 
 in him there is not the suggestion of a pastoral. 
 But in "Daphnis and Chloe," Eros divides his 
 honors with the rustic divinities — Pan and the 
 Nymphs; and at the end, we learn that the 
 young couple not only now, but during the re- 
 mainder of their days, led a pastoral life (IV. 
 xxxix). 
 
 Yet it should not be overlooked that the 
 pastoral of Longus is a pastoral from the point 
 of view of the city. The discovery of the chil- 
 dren's city origin is regarded as a happy event, 
 and produces the denouement. The visit of the 
 city folk, most elaborately prepared for, is ag- 
 grandized by means of the apparatus of tragedy 
 (borrowed by Longus only this once), which 
 through a series of rumors and messengers an- 
 nounces the master no less than four times (III. 
 xxxi; IV. i, v, ix) — each time as coming a little 
 sooner, — until at length he appears. Though the 
 wedding is a rustic one, its rusticity is gently 
 ridiculed 6 (IV. xxxviii, the over-nearness of the 
 
 8 Angel Day's version is pervaded by this indulgent ridi- 
 cule of rustic wits, manners, speech and dress. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 23 
 
 goats to the wedding-guests; IV. xl, the rugged 
 chorus) . Moreover the whole story has an urban 
 " enveloping action " at the beginning and at the 
 end, in the exposure and the restoration of the 
 children. From this plan it is but a step to the 
 employment of the whole pastoral as an episode 
 or interlude in an urban story: — such an inter- 
 lude permitting a plot that has become entangled 
 with the complex evils of court or town, to 
 straighten itself out under the simpler conditions 
 of country life, and reach a happy end. Upon 
 this sophistication in Longus we shall return 
 when we come to speak of his treatment of love. 
 That Fortune should have little or no power in 
 " Daphnis and Chloe " 7 is a natural consequence 
 
 'As a cliche, of course, " Fortune " occurs frequently. 
 At I. ii and I. viii it simply equals " estate or condition 
 in life ; at II. x it means little, if any, more than our " it 
 happened " — tijxv being here as colorless as the syllable 
 " hap " in our verb. More real are the attributions of 
 power at III. xxxiv, where the apple is said to have been 
 saved by Fortune ; and at IV. xxiv — a passage worth 
 giving in full. Daphnis's father speaks : " I exposed this 
 child, placing these (the sword, etc.) with him not as 
 tokens by which he might be recognized, but as memorials 
 with which he might be buried. But the decrees of For- 
 tune were otherwise (t<x 5£ rijs rtixys &Wa ^ovXevfjcara). For 
 my older son and daughter perished in one day, of the 
 same disease. But thou (Daphnis) by the Providence of 
 the gods wert saved " (<n> 8£ irpovoiq. Bedv iaJjdrjs). The evil 
 — the death of the older children — is ascribed to Fortune ; 
 the good — the saving of Daphnis — to Providence. Both, 
 being outside the action of the story — (part of r& e£a> rod 
 5pd.na.Tos), form no exception to the rule of Eros within it. 
 Of this passage, which Amyot translates plainly, Day 
 makes a hash. For the rest, it may be said, his para- 
 phrase gives to Fortune much more scope than either the 
 Greek, or his original Amyot, will warrant. (So at Da, pp. 
 98, 99. iSi. 153, 153-4, — none of which are in Amyot or 
 in the Greek.) 
 
124 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 of its pastoral theme as well as of the dominion 
 of Eros. Just as the pastoral element is wanting 
 in Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius, so is the ele- 
 ment of travel wanting in Longus. His lovers 
 remain quietly in their home fields : they do not 
 " look for trouble," like the errant Theagenes and 
 Chariclea and Clitophon and Leucippe, but let 
 trouble come to them, if come it must. And the 
 incursions of pirates and other marauders have 
 for Daphnis and Chloe no consequences beyond 
 temporary distress ; unlike the corresponding in- 
 cidents in the other Romances, they do not put 
 the lovers in any new situation or set afoot any 
 fresh train of adventures. After each inter- 
 ruption the pastoral goes on as peacefully as 
 before ; indeed the interruptions serve an artistic 
 purpose, in deepening by contrast the charm of 
 the quiet life. 8 
 
 Finally, this minimizing of the control of For- 
 tune carries with it a rather remarkable result : In 
 "Daphnis and Chloe" causation resumes its 
 sway in a measure quite unknown to Heliodorus 
 or Achilles Tatius. Longus works out carefully 
 even minor incidents like the admission of 
 Daphnis to Dryas's cottage (III. vi-vii) : Daphnis 
 would not have been admitted if Dryas had not 
 come out; Dryas would not have come out if a 
 sheep-dog that had stolen a piece of meat had not 
 run out with it. So of the bath of Daphnis, led 
 up to by a double line of causes (I. xii-xii) ; 
 which may be illustrated thus: 
 
 ■ Cf. Croiset, " Hist, de la Litt. Grecque," V. 800. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 1*5 
 
 A wolf has been carry- 
 ing off lambs. 
 
 The shepherds dig a 
 pit, and hide it with 
 brushwood. 
 
 B. 
 
 Two of Daphnis's goats 
 fight, and the victor 
 pursues the van- 
 quished. 
 
 4 
 
 Daphnis pursues the 
 pursuer. 
 
 Daphnis falls into the pit, is soiled, and must 
 bathe. 
 
 The events in the two converging lines get 
 under way simultaneously but independently ; the 
 train is laid; and Eros touches it off. So that 
 this chain of causes is particularly notable; for 
 it is the elaborate means by which Eros contrives 
 to start the children upon their love-adventure. 
 Daphnis's bath, it will be remembered, is what 
 kindled love in Chloe. We have here, then, the 
 initial impulse of the tale, given not by Fortune, 
 but by Love employing natural causes. 
 
 For one of his " retarding moments," the war 
 between Mitylene and Methymne (II. xiii-xvii, 
 xix), Longus employs the same device again, 
 and still more elaborately. And if the larger 
 scale of this event — an event not pastoral but 
 political — does not in itself excuse his somewhat 
 over-studied construction, let his excuse be that 
 he saved Shakespeare trouble (see post, pp. 453- 
 455). After all, too, the result is quite plausible. 
 
126 
 
 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 A. 
 
 Countryman breaks the 
 old rope from which 
 was hung his grape- 
 crushing stone. 
 
 i 
 
 He steals rope from 
 Methymnaeans' boat. 
 
 i 
 
 Methymnaeans use 
 osier to moor boat. 
 
 B. 
 
 Methymnaeans' hunting 
 makes a great noise. 
 
 I 
 
 Daphnis's goats, fright- 
 ened from their pas- 
 ture, are driven down 
 to the seashore. 
 
 i 
 
 Finding no food there, 
 
 they gnaw the osier 
 through. 
 
 The boat floats away. 
 I 
 The Methymnaeans beat Daphnis, but are them- 
 selves beaten. 
 
 1 
 
 They incite their city to make war on Mitylene. 
 
 Such is the part played by Fortune in the plot 
 of the three chief Greek Romances. All-power- 
 ful in Achilles Tatius, she is subordinated to 
 Providence in Heliodorus, and in Longus, under 
 the limitations of the pastoral theme, gives way 
 almost wholly to the sway of Eros and of ordi- 
 nary causation. In general, her control is evi- 
 denced by the prominence of the element of travel 
 and adventure, and is naturally at its minimum in 
 the pastoral, where travel and adventure are 
 wanting. — There remains for discussion the 
 second principal ingredient of the plot of these 
 Romances — the element of Love. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 27 
 
 It need scarcely be said that love in the Greek 
 Romances is sensual love. The whole genre is 
 saved from being a tribute to "the great god- 
 dess Aselgeia" not by any exalted conception 
 of love itself, but by the shifting of a large 
 portion of interest and emphasis away from love 
 altogether. Such dignity as these love-stories 
 possess is a dignity for the most part alien to 
 the theme of love. What are its sources? 
 
 A feature common to the Romances is the 
 preservation of the heroine's chastity to the end 
 of the story. Chariclea is of a type essentially 
 celibate, is by principle and inclination opposed 
 to marriage (II. xxiii ; U 73-4), and yields to her 
 overmastering passion for Theagenes (III. vii, 
 xix; IV. iv, v, vii, x, xi) only so far as to con- 
 sent to an ultimate union with him under the 
 formal auspices predicted by the oracle (II. 
 xxxv). This engagement both she and The- 
 agenes keep throughout their trials; — trials 
 which in Chariclea's case indeed are most re- 
 spectable, 9 as all her lovers — the Tyrian ship 
 captain (V. xix), the pirate Trachinus (V. 
 xxviii), the chivalrous bandit-chief Thyamis (I. 
 xix-xxi), and even the treacherous Achaemenes 
 (VIII. xxiii) offer her marriage. Her very 
 beauty has about it something sacred and virginal 
 
 9 Diogene : Savez vous combien elle (i. e., Mandane, in 
 " Le Grand Cyrus") a ete enlevee de fois? Pluton: Ou 
 veux tu que je Faille chercher ? Diogene : Huit fois. Minos : 
 Voila une beaute qui a passe par bien de mains. Diogene: 
 Cela est vrai : Mais tons ses ravisseurs etaient les scelerats 
 du monde les plus vertueux. Assurement ils n'ont pas ose 
 lui toucher. Pluton: J'en doute. (Boileau, "Les Heros 
 de Roman," ed. Crane, p. 182.) 
 
128 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (I. ii, iv) ; and, at the close of the story, her 
 beauty and her chastity together are vindicated 
 with eclat by the ordeal which she so triumph- 
 antly undergoes (X. ix). Theagenes too resists 
 both the wooing of Arsace and the tortures that 
 she inflicts upon him, and of course keeps in- 
 violate his oath to respect Chariclea. 
 
 But all this, exalted and laudable though it be, 
 is not so much love in our sense of the word as 
 abstention from love in their sense of the word. 
 In all of it there is no sign that love is anything 
 but physical desire, of which the lovers are 
 simply postponing the satisfaction. Their love 
 at first sight is, obviously, not evolved from any 
 previous acquaintance, or based upon any ripen- 
 ing friendship. 10 In " Daphnis and Chloe " in- 
 deed the love is quite frankly sensual, occasioned 
 in the one lover by a kiss, in the other by the 
 softness of Daphnis's body; in " Clitophon and 
 Leucippe" there is a period of courtship to be 
 sure, ending in — what? — the rendezvous. Even 
 the lofty-minded Theagenes and Chariclea are 
 overcome instant er by this static undeveloping 
 passion of theirs. Are they really congenial? 
 Are their tastes alike, or complementary, or op- 
 posite? Would they laugh at the same things, 
 and weep at the same things? Who knows? — 
 There is not a hint of spiritual companionship 
 between them; not a hint that the character of 
 each is to be rounded out by that of the other; 
 not a hint that theirs is to be a "marriage of 
 true minds." — So much by way of caveat; for 
 
 19 Cf. Koerting, op. cit., I, p. 30. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 29 
 
 there is danger of mistaking the rarefied atmos- 
 phere, the lofty speeches, and the grandiose 
 framework of the "^thiopica" for something 
 that they are not. 11 
 
 There is no such danger in the case of Achilles 
 Tatius. In the actual preservation and vindica- 
 tion of her maidenhood Leucippe resembles 
 Chariclea, but there the resemblance ceases. In 
 fact, like Mile, de Maupin, Leucippe has re- 
 tained rather a physical than a moral virginity. 
 She was quite ready to yield to Clitophon before 
 their flight; and it is only ex post facto that 
 this wanton elopement of theirs, brought about 
 by a carnal passion which they would have un- 
 thinkingly satisfied, gains divine sanction from 
 the interest taken in it by Artemis and Aphrodite 
 (IV. i) and thenceforth becomes a trial of 
 chastity. But even had Leucippe entered upon 
 her adventures pure in heart, these are of such 
 a gross and revolting nature, they involve so 
 much physical and moral exposure, that Artemis 
 herself could hardly have come through them 
 untainted. The brigands and the false belly 
 (III. xv ), which, with all its loathsomeness, 
 Leucippe keeps on her body until nightfall (III. 
 xviii) ; Charmides (IV. ix) ; Gorgias (IV. xv), 
 and Leucippe's unseemly fit (IV. ix) ; Chaereas 
 and his pirates, and the poor butchered harlot 
 (V. vii ; VIII. xvi) ; Sosthenes and Thersander 
 and their tender mercies (VI. passim) : — what a 
 set! Unfortunate as Leucippe is, one can but 
 feel that she is akin to those errant dames who, 
 
 11 De Salverte (" Le Roman dans la Grece Ancienne," 
 pp. 382-4) has not escaped this danger. 
 10 
 
130 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 to their regret, become "the Helen of so many 
 Parises" 12 that their pristine bloom is gone. 
 
 Chloe, like the others, reaches the end of the 
 story still a maid ; but, radically as Heliodorus 
 and Achilles Tatius differ in their treatment of 
 chastity, Longus differs still more radically from 
 both together. For whereas they both enlist the 
 reader's interest in favor of the heroine's efforts 
 to preserve her maidenhood, Longus enlists the 
 reader's interest in favor of his heroine's efforts 
 to lose hers. At least, — we say — if, in the other 
 romances, love is not spiritual but fleshly — at 
 least, it is not indulged ; and what might have 
 been an orgy is turned into a trial of chastity. 
 But what can possibly make this romance other 
 than salacious ? It may be admitted at once that 
 " Daphnis and Chloe " does not wholly escape 
 the charge. What almost saves it is the inno- 
 cence and the inexperience of the children, 13 
 together with the charm of the country, and of 
 country doings, and of the procession of the sea- 
 sons. But the point of the story still remains in 
 the piquancy of the children's experiments, — a 
 piquancy heightened by this very simplicity, this 
 very naivete of theirs, and by the charm of 
 their surroundings. If the fruit they are trying 
 to pluck were not fruit that the reader knows to 
 be generally regarded as forbidden, where — so 
 we may fancy the sophist asking — where would 
 
 u " Elle eut regret d'etre l'Helene 
 
 D'un si grand nombre de Paris." — La Fontaine, " La 
 Fiancee du Roi de Garbe." 
 
 13 Cf. F. Jacobs, Einleitung to his translation of " D. and 
 C," pp. 11-12. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 131 
 
 be the fun in watching them? Longus with all 
 his art did not, — or rather did not try! — to take 
 his emphasis off the teasing succession of 
 Daphnis and Chloe's attempts, and place it wholly 
 or even preponderantly 14 upon their idyllic sim- 
 plicity, their idyllic environment. They are 
 simple enough, but we are not; and Longus 
 knows it. One reader at least confesses to a 
 feeling of distinct relief when Daphnis has had 
 his lesson, and when Chloe is no longer in the 
 uncertain care of his ignorance but in the more 
 trustworthy care of his knowledge and his con- 
 siderateness (III. xx). As Senor Menendez y 
 Pelayo says, 15 " this is neither the true and sacred 
 antiquity, nor the grace and simplicity, of the 
 young world, but rather a pretty painting on a 
 fan, recalling those of France in the eighteenth 
 century." In a word, — though Daphnis and 
 Chloe are entirely unsophisticated, Longus is 
 sophisticated through and through. 
 
 All this is but to say that the Greek Romancers 
 could not jump off their shadow, and that love 
 in their works is not modern love. At the same 
 time it ought, not to be overlooked that love in 
 the Greek Romances is a genuine attachment, 
 capable of waiting, of constancy, and of sacrifice. 
 Furthermore, as has often been remarked, both 
 the love and the adventure are such as to take 
 women out of the seclusion of the gynceceum 
 and make them for a while the companions — 
 sometimes even the leaders — of the men they are 
 
 "As Raphael Collin has done in his charming illus- 
 trations. 
 
 is « Origenes de la Novela," I, Introduccion, p. x. 
 
133 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 to marry. So much dignity the element of love 
 in the Greek Romances must be allowed to pos- 
 sess ; but apart from this, the " love-interest " is 
 nowhere based upon a sufficiently exalted concep- 
 tion of love, or upon a sufficiently sound "psy- 
 chology," or upon a sufficiently profound under- 
 standing of human character, to be in itself 
 ennobled. 
 
 One apparent exception is found — of all places 
 — joined to the romance of the gross-minded 
 Achilles Tatius. It is not too much, I think, to 
 say that the novella of Callisthenes and Calligone 
 (II. xiii-xviii; VIII. xvii-xix) anticipates 
 chivalry. Not only does Callisthenes offer mar- 
 riage to his captive mistress, and scrupulously 
 respect her honor — all without being bound by 
 any oath, or actuated by a regard for the designs 
 of a delaying Providence ; but he professes him- 
 self her slave (AovXov ovv fie aeavTr}*; awb ravrr]^ 
 rrj? rjfjbepas vofit^e — VIII. xvii) ; and, most sig- 
 nificant of all, he is actually transformed in char- 
 acter by love. From an insolent, evil-mannered 
 profligate, he becomes a public-spirited citizen, 
 an irreproachable soldier, and a pattern of cour- 
 tesy. As far as I am aware, this is the first oc- 
 currence in literature of the motif of transforma- 
 tion of character by love. How this episode, 
 so suggestive of later fiction, got into " Clito- 
 phon and Leucippe," I cannot attempt to say. 
 It is connected with the main plot by only the 
 slenderest of threads, and the main action is in 
 any case wholly unaffected by the chivalrous 
 nature of Callisthenes's love. And because of its 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 133 
 
 purely episodic character, this novella need not 
 modify what has been said about the general 
 nature of love in the Greek Romances. 
 
 The episode of Cnemon, in the " iEthiopica " 
 (I. ix-xvii; II. viii-ix; VI. ii, vii, viii), is much 
 more in Achilles Tatius's vein. Indeed, Cne- 
 mon's novella and the novella of Callisthenes and 
 Calligone might well be interchanged, with a dis- 
 tinct gain in unity of tone for each of the 
 romances in which they occur. For while 
 Achilles Tatius is hardly recognizable in the 
 high-flown sentiments and chivalrous conduct of 
 Callisthenes, which seem much more in character 
 with Heliodorus, just as little is Heliodorus 
 recognizable in the lewd stepmother, the per- 
 fidious slaves and dancing-girls, the qui pro quo 
 in the dark, and the general atmosphere of low 
 intrigue and chicanery, that prevail in Cnemon's 
 story. These are much more consonant with the 
 main plot of Achilles Tatius. On the other 
 hand, if we would find in Achilles Tatius an 
 episode entirely in harmony with his normal atti- 
 tude, we need only turn to the dubbio at the end 
 of Book II, where Clinias, who has already 
 signalized himself by an invective against women 
 (I. viii), finds a like-minded friend to maintain 
 against Clitophon the rival merit of boys. The 
 debat on this subject, — a commonplace of late 
 Greek literature 16 — gains particular point and 
 significance here because it rests upon a Platonic 
 original— viz., the distinction ("Symposium," 
 
 19 Salverte, pp. 308-9 ; Miiller-Christ VII, 850. And cf. 
 " Daphnis and Chloe," IV. xvii ; Plutarch, " Amatorius," 
 passim. 
 
134 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 180) between earthly and heavenly beauty. Of 
 this it is an impudent parody. Whereas Plato's 
 distinction is between sensual and spiritual love, 
 the dispute in Achilles Tatius is merely between 
 two varieties of sensual love, and only seeks to 
 determine which is the more voluptuous. In the 
 hands of an Achilles Tatius, even Platonism 17 is 
 debased to vile uses. 
 
 The present discussion of the place of love in 
 the plot of the Greek Romances may be closed 
 with a note of some of their anticipations of 
 the treatment of love in later literature. First 
 of these is the worship of the kiss. Longus 
 and Achilles Tatius, but especially the latter, are 
 devotees of the kiss, and celebrate it almost as 
 persistently and variously as do Marino or 
 Johannes Secundus. Chloe's kiss is the prize of 
 the shepherd's contest, and the proximate cause 
 of Daphnis's love (I. xvii) ; Daphnis gains kisses 
 at second hand by touching with his lips the pipe 
 already touched by Chloe's (I. xxiv) and by 
 drinking from the same place on the rim of the 
 cup (III. viii). 18 The latter endearment is also 
 practiced by Clitophon and Leucippe (II. ix) ; 
 
 17 Except a passage in Longus (II. vii), "Love gives 
 wings to the soul " (6 "Epws ... ras xf/vx^s avairTepol) cf. 
 " Phaedrus," 246 ff), I recall little else resembling Platonic 
 love-doctrine in the Greek Romances. — The place where 
 Clitophon tells his story — the bank of a stream under a 
 plane-tree — recalls the opening of the " Phaedrus." The 
 "Phaedrus" (251, 255 G) and the " Cratylus " (420), also 
 contain the theory that love flows into the soul through 
 the eye (cf. post, p. 135). (The last two citations are from 
 Stravoskiadis.) 
 
 18 So in Ovid, " Art. Am." I. 575 (cited B 310 n.) ; cf. also 
 Ben Jonson's " Drink to me only with thine eyes," from 
 Philostratus. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 35 
 
 the kiss is praised to the skies at II. viii and 
 IV. viii; and at II. vii occurs Clitophon's cele- 
 brated stratagem to gain a kiss— a stratagem imi- 
 tated in Tasso's "Aminta" (I. ii) and in 
 D'Urfe. 19 Even Theagenes, at the end of his 
 race at Delphi, " ranne to Cariclia and of pur- 
 pose fell into her lap, as though he could not stay 
 him selfe : and when hee had taken the garland, I 
 saw well enough that he kissed her hande. O 
 happy turne, that he got the victorie, and kissed 
 her too" (U 101; IV. iv). 
 
 Like much else that " ain't so," the physics or 
 physiology of love has been pretty well worked 
 out, and reduced to a systematic pseudo-science, 
 by the time of the Greek Romancers. Heliodorus 
 and Achilles Tatius are both certain that love 
 enters the heart through the eye, " for seeing that 
 of all our other pores and senses, sight is capable 
 of most mutations, and the hotest, it must neecles 
 receive such infections as are about it, and with 
 a hote spirite entertaine the changes of love." 
 (U 87 ; " T. & C," III. vii ; cf . " Phaedrus " 250 
 on the keenness of sight, and on the theory of 
 the 6lSq)\ov). This explains love at first sight 
 ("T. & C," III. v; " A. T.," I. iv). In Achilles 
 Tatius, the theory is not that of a "spirite" 
 (irvevfjLa) as in Heliodorus, but that of an image 
 or simulacrum (etBcoXov) of the beloved, as at 
 "A. T.," I. ix; V. xiii. Both theories survive 
 through the Middle Ages into the Renaissance. 20 
 
 19 As to D'Urfe, Dunlop's " History of Fiction," I. 40. 
 
 20 The " spirit "-theory, for instance, in the poets of the 
 dolce stil nuovo, and in Dante; the "eidolon "-theory, in 
 the concettismo resting upon " babies in the eyes " ; e. g., 
 in Donne. 
 
136 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 The symptoms of love — "the rowlinge of his 
 eies, and soudaine sighing without cause" (U 
 88); "Cariclia mad almost" (Gloss, U 106); 
 the blushing and paling (A. T., II. vi) ; fasting 
 (" D. & C," X. vii ; " A. T.," I. v ; V. xiii) ; vigils 
 (" A. T.," I. vii ; " D. & C," I. xiii ; II. vii) ; call- 
 ing upon the beloved's name ("T. & C," VIII. 
 vi) ; and the like, in their frequent repetition in 
 almost the same terms, give evidence of having 
 been conventionalized into something like a Code 
 of Love. And the presence in Achilles Tatius 
 of two pretty fully developed Artes Amatoriae 
 (I. ix; II. iv), setting forth the lover's proper 
 procedure, recalls the fact that it was upon Ovid's 
 "Art of Love" that the mediaeval Code grew 
 up. The ancient world had evidently accumu- 
 lated a considerable body of doctrine on this sub- 
 ject; and Longus in his Procemium even pro- 
 fesses a didactic purpose: his book, he says, 
 " will refresh the memory of him who has loved ; 
 and him who has not loved, it will instruct." 
 
 Love, then, as an element of plot, receives 
 rather complex treatment from the Greek Ro- 
 mancers. Upon a basis of physical attraction 
 they build a most elaborate, a most ornate super- 
 structure, which more or less conceals its own 
 foundation. To vary the figure : If some one like 
 the dreamer in the Romaunt of the Rose were 
 to seek audience of this Love, he would behold 
 first, crowding round their master so as quite to 
 hide him, a group of his attendants, — True- 
 Chastity and Doubtful-Chastity, and Long- Wait- 
 ing, and Constancy, and Dame Adventure. If 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 137 
 
 he persisted in making his way through this 
 outer circle, he would next encounter Idyllic- 
 Description, and Platonism-Counterfeit, and 
 Na'ive Experiment, and La Belle Dame fiman- 
 cipee; My Lord Episode arm-in-arm with Sir 
 Chivalry-Anticipate and with the prelatical Or- 
 donnance Divine; Dr. Physiologie d' Amour, 
 body-physician to the winged boy; the Sire Art 
 d'Aimer, Grand Chamberlain in charge of his 
 court-etiquette, and Dom Intrigue, his barber and 
 confessor ; and others too — all still trying to hide 
 their sovereign's nakedness. But let the curious 
 one penetrate to the presence. There — there is 
 Love himself — there is the Prince: — a large, 
 handsome, stout, rather stupid-looking youth; — 
 vigorous, but somewhat languid with kisses ; and 
 not caring at all whether his courtiers hide him 
 or not. And is this the great God of Love? It 
 must be so; there are his bow and arrows, and 
 quiver and flambeau — ' But ' — the dreamer will 
 exclaim — 'why, — where are his ivingsf 
 Dreamer, let me tell thee : he hasn't any ! 
 
 From the foregoing, it may be inferred, and 
 rightly, that the Greek Romances give to plot — 
 the mere happening of things — a place much 
 more important than they give to character. 
 This fact it is, indeed, which makes them ro- 
 mances at all rather than novels. Not the forces 
 of personality, but the outward forces, Provi- 
 dence, or Fortune, keep the story alive. In a 
 typical passage (ante, p. 118) it has been seen 
 how the personages shift upon the shoulders of 
 Fortune the responsibility for their own acts, and 
 
138 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the blame for the troubles which these acts have 
 caused. There is nowhere the slightest hint 21 
 that the misadventures of Clitophon and Leu- 
 cippe are the punishment, nay even the result, of 
 their own undutifulness. Quite the contrary; 
 these misadventures purport to be due to a For- 
 tune that has no connection whatever with the 
 character of the sufferers. If the author had 
 observed any such connection, we may be sure 
 he would not have spared us a sermon upon it; 
 for, as we shall see, moralizing has no terrors for 
 Achilles Tatius. But it lies well within the legi- 
 timate field of a romancer to signalize the con- 
 nection quite artistically, without preaching or 
 any artificial insistence upon "poetic justice." 
 In neither the one way nor the other, neither 
 inartistically nor artistically, does Achilles Tatius 
 offer anything on the subject. The moral con- 
 nections between things — it is precisely these 
 which he everywhere relaxes, or fails to observe 
 at all ; character counts for as little as may be ; 
 and each person is a pawn in a game played by 
 non-human powers, — a bit of matter, with a con- 
 sciousness incidentally attached, to be acted upon 
 by outward forces. 
 
 The result is that out of that incidental con- 
 sciousness, despite the romancer's want of in- 
 terest in character, certain characters do after 
 all get themselves created. They are for the 
 most part rather despicable, because for the most 
 part engaged either in giving in to Fortune, or 
 in wriggling and squirming out of the situations 
 
 21 Dunlop to the contrary notwithstanding (I. 42). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 139 
 
 in which Fortune has placed them. They are 
 mostly of a timorous, or of a pliant deceitful 
 type. Cnemon is an arrant coward: he is afraid 
 of the corpse of Thisbe ("T. & C," II. v-vi), 
 afraid of Thermuthis (II. xviii), afraid of the 
 dark (II. xx), afraid of a crocodile (VI. i) and 
 simply panic-stricken when he overhears some- 
 body calling herself Thisbe (V. ii-iii). Daphnis 
 is utterly incapable of courage: he resists none 
 of the attacks made upon him or upon Chloe, but, 
 if possible, hides till the trouble is over (II. xx) ; 
 and when Lampis has carried off Chloe, goes to 
 the garden and wails instead of pursuing (IV. 
 xxviii). 
 
 In the policy of wriggling, Calasiris and Chari- 
 clea are adepts. Chariclea succeeds so well in 
 fooling her successive suitors with promises, that 
 Calasiris actually rallies her upon her skill in 
 deceit (VI. ix). But he himself— partly respon- 
 sible indeed for her stratagems — is an arch- 
 trickster. 22 He puts off the Tyrian merchant 
 with fair words (V. xx) ; he sets the pirates by 
 the ears (V. xxxviii-xxx) ; instead of gaining 
 Chariclea's confidence by telling her that he 
 knows she is in love, he goes through the mum- 
 mery of an exorcism (IV. iv) ; he sets the Del- 
 phians on a false trail (IV. xix) ; wishing to 
 redeem Chariclea from Nausicles, he feigns to 
 get from the ashes on the altar, as if from the 
 gods themselves, the amethyst ring which he 
 offers (V. xiii). The last three are cases of 
 wholly gratuitous deceit: apparently Calasiris 
 
 22 On the tradition connecting this dissimulation with the 
 priestly character, see Schwartz, pp. 17-19. 
 
140 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 would rather lie than tell the truth. So it is with 
 his pupil Chariclea. On no other supposition 
 can the reader account for her sly and under- 
 hand conduct in the denouement. Her own 
 identity has been established; she has been saved 
 from the sacrifice; she is princess of Ethiopia: 
 all that remains for her to do is, one would 
 think, to claim Theagenes as her husband, and 
 thus save him too. But she contrives " for ulti- 
 mate advantage to check her frenzied feelings, 
 so as to wind her way covertly to the end she 
 had in view" (X. xix). What is the end that 
 she can better gain by dissimulation than by 
 frankness ? Why should she " by indirection find 
 direction out?" Her self-contradictory lies and 
 dark sayings drive her father to distraction : " She 
 called him her brother that was not so. When 
 she was asked who this straunger was, she an- 
 sweared shee knew him not: then sought she to 
 save him as her friend, whom shee knewe not: 
 which when it was denied her, she besought mee 
 that shee might kill him as her most enimy. 
 When this could not be graunted her, because it 
 was law full for none to do it, but such a one 
 as had a husband, shee said that shee was mar- 
 ried, and named not to whome. How can shee 
 have a husband, whom the fire declared had never 
 to do with her? ... I never saw any but she, 
 that made the same man her frend and enimie in 
 one minute of an houre, and fained to have a 
 brother and husband, which never was so" (U 
 275-6; X. xxii). 
 
 The truth seems to be that Heliodorus's own 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 141 
 
 love for rhetorical contradictions, for the bizarre 
 and the paradoxical, 23 has led him to give his 
 heroine this utterly false motivation. Let us not 
 then blame Chariclea too severely for her final 
 bit of dissimulation. But what can extenuate 
 her advice to Theagenes (VII. xviii, xxi, xxv), 
 at first to feign compliance with the wishes of 
 Arsace, and, later, to comply with them in very 
 deed ? It is tonic to hear his reply. " Be sure 
 I cannot f aine any such thing : for to say and do 
 unhonest thinges, are both almost alike dishonest. 
 ... If I must suffer any thing, as well fortune, 
 as also the constant opinion of my mind, have 
 inured me nowe many times to take whatever 
 shall happen" (U 197; VII. xxi). But though 
 he resists, to the point of suffering torture, yet he 
 does at length feign this very compliance that he 
 has so scorned; and he equivocates too, justify- 
 ing the breach of Arsace's promise to Achae- 
 menes, by the quibble that she had promised not 
 " Chariclea " but " Theagenes's sister " ! — as if 
 she had promised a name and not a person (VII. 
 xxvi). 
 
 So in "Daphnis and Chloe" Dorco having 
 helped Daphnis and his goat out of the pit, 
 the children give him the goat as a reward, " and 
 meant to tell those at home, if any one inquired, 
 that there had been an incursion of wolves " 
 (I. xii). And again (IV. x) Astylus, to shield 
 Lamon from blame for the destruction of the 
 garden, promises to lay the blame on his horse. — 
 Two gratuitous lies. 
 
 88 Reinforced by his wish to delay the denouement, and 
 attribute it to the arrival of Charicles. (See ante, pp. 112- 
 113, 116.) 
 
142 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Iii Achilles Tatius, all men, and women too, 
 are liars. Leucippe cunningly mixes truth with 
 untruth in her reply to her mother. " My vir- 
 ginity is safe ; and I haven't the ghost of a no- 
 tion who was in my bedroom " (II. xxv) . Clito- 
 phon and Satyrus lie gratuitously to the porter 
 (II. xxvi). Satyrus has gained Leucippe's new 
 maid by feigning love (II. xxxi). Menelaus, 
 who might be supposed to have better taste 
 than to play conjurer's tricks at the moment 
 when Leucippe has come back from the grave, 
 concocts an invocation of Hecate, just to scare 
 Clitophon 24 (III. xviii). Menelaus promises to 
 help Charmides win Leucippe, but at once bears 
 the tale to Clitophon, and together they resolve to 
 deceive Charmides (IV. vi). Clitophon, to avoid 
 the consummation of his marriage with Melitta, 
 feigns illness, swears that he wishes to comply 
 but cannot, and puts her off with false promises 
 (V. xxi) : "flattered her, for fancie her I could 
 not." Melitta devises a stratagem to enable her 
 doorkeeper to " save face " — a stratagem quite 
 needless, inasmuch as she sends him out of the 
 way, and we never hear of him again (VI. ii). 
 Her story to her husband (VI. viii-xi), like Leu- 
 cippe's reply to her mother, is most cunningly 
 compounded of truth and lies, in the hope that 
 the former will gain credence for the latter. — 
 They are all tarred with the same brush. They 
 all cringe and comply, and wriggle and twist, — 
 often just for the fun of it. It is a habit they 
 
 24 Cf. "T. & C," V. ii— iii, where Chariclea calls herself 
 Thisbe, in mere silliness, just because the author wants to 
 give Cnemon a fright. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 43 
 
 have fallen into as a result of regarding them- 
 selves, and of being regarded by their authors, 
 in the " bony light " of playthings of chance. 
 
 " Character," says Aristotle (Poet., VI. 17), " is 
 that which reveals moral purpose, showing what 
 kind of things a man chooses or avoids." — But 
 what if a man choose or avoid nothing, but only 
 take what comes, and exhibit his sentiments 
 about it? "Speeches, therefore," Aristotle goes 
 on, ('and' — we may add — 'authors' comments 
 and analyses') "which do not make manifest 
 such choice or avoidance, or in which the speaker 
 does not choose or avoid anything, are not ex- 
 pressive of character." Now in the Greek Ro- 
 mances, the speeches, and the author's comments 
 upon them, and analyses of the feelings that ac- 
 company them, are largely of this sort: they re- 
 veal no ethos. What they do is rather to ex- 
 press what someone, given a situation, might ap- 
 propriately say. It was a well-established exer- 
 cise in school-rhetoric to frame precisely such 
 speeches — "'What sort of things Niobe would 
 say,' 'What Menoeceus the patriotic suicide,' 
 ' What Cassandra at sight of the horse,' etc." ; 25 
 and we know that the taste for these hypothetical 
 speeches lasted through the Middle Ages on into 
 the Renaissance, where it produced and wel- 
 comed such collections as " Silvayn's Orator." 
 
 25 Saintsbury, " Hist of Crit.," I. 95- In the Greek An- 
 thology, Book IX, there are thirty epigrams (Nos. 451-480) 
 in this kind; e. g. (451) Ttras dv diroi \6yovs irpbs UpdKvrjv 
 tt)v &5e\<t>T]v $1X0^X17 The rubric of Book IX is 'APXH 
 TON EniAEIKTIKfiN 'EIIirPAMMATflN— showing that 
 this sort of thing was regarded as part of the rhetoric of 
 display. 
 
144 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 The late Greek rhetoricians called this exercise 
 Ethopoieia, — inappropriately, for, as we have 
 seen, it expresses not character so much as the 
 emotion appropriate to a "posited" situation — 
 that is, to use Aristotle's terminology again, not 
 rjdos but 7ra0o?. "May the Deity grant me" 
 prays the author of "Daphnis and Chloe " (Pro- 
 oemium ad fin.), "May the Deity grant me, un- 
 disturbed myself, to describe the emotions of 
 others." The interest of the rhetoricians who 
 wrote the Greek Romances is not in the ethical 
 choices and avoidances of life (remember again 
 Achilles Tatius's weakness in dealing with the 
 crucial moment of choice) so much as in senti- 
 ment or emotion, with the rhetorical express : on of 
 it in set speeches, and the sophistical accounting 
 for it in comment and analysis. 
 
 Hence the long accounts of Daphnis and 
 Chloe's " symptoms " — of precisely how they felt 
 when they fell in love, and precisely how each 
 soliloquized in rhetorical antitheses (I. xiii, xiv; 
 xvii, xviii) ; and the repetition by Philetas of 
 the symptoms of love (II. vii). Hence the cor- 
 responding accounts of Theagenes's symptoms 
 (III. v, x, xviii), of Chariclea's (III. v, vii, xix; 
 IV. iii, vi, -vii, x, xi) and of Clitophon's (I. vi). 
 So, at " A. T.," III. iv, we are instructed as to the 
 iraOos of a lingering death by drowning; at III. 
 xi and VII. iv we have a half physiological, half- 
 psychological account of the iraQo? of excessive 
 grief, and of why it is tearless; at VII. vii, we 
 learn precisely how the tears of beauty operate 
 upon a sensitive soul like Thersander's ; and at 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 45 
 
 VI. xix and VII. i we are asked to follow that 
 same " schone Seele " through its fluctuations of 
 rage, grief, deliberation and desire. Twaddle ! 
 
 Perhaps even shallower, both in morals and in 
 psychology, is the rhetorical show-piece to which 
 we are treated by way of an analysis of Leu- 
 cippe's emotions under her mother's reproof (II. 
 xxix). As if the feelings of shame, sorrow, and 
 anger were necessarily occasioned by some other 
 person's words, and never by the conscience it- 
 self! Or — granted that another's words occa- 
 sioned them — as if they never convicted one of 
 his own sin, so that no amount of " back-talk " 
 would cure them ! This is the view of the mere 
 sophist, with whom words count for everything. 
 Again, this is a mere show-piece in that the 
 analysis of Leucippe's state of mind is needless — 
 nothing being made of its ingredients. If for in- 
 stance shame had tended to make her do one 
 thing, and anger another, and we had been shown 
 how her action was due to one or the other 
 of these emotions, or to some composite of them 
 — then the analysis might have been justified. As 
 it stands, it is a piece of sentimentalizing for 
 sentimentalizing's sake. 
 
 Clitophon's apostrophe at Leucippe's coffin 
 (III. xvi) and his lament over the headless body 
 supposed to be hers (V. vii) are inconceivable 
 except as exercises in rhetoric, — pieces of etho- 
 poieia or pathopoie'm, or not even that. For 
 neither is in any sense an outburst of grief. In 
 both alike, the purpose seems to be, not to express 
 the sorrow of a bereaved lover, but to find anti- 
 11 
 
146 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 thetical things that may be said about the bizarre 
 physical circumstances of Leucippe's death, — as 
 that the sea possesses her head and Clitophon her 
 trunk, or that one part of her is buried in the 
 coffin and the other part in the brigands ! 26 — The 
 artifice defeats its own purpose; the emotion is 
 lost in a crackle of antithesis, and the reader is 
 merely disgusted. 
 
 But to leave speeches and analyses of emotion, 
 and to return to character as a whole: — it will 
 be useful to examine some of the personages 
 and types which issue from the rhetorical con- 
 ception of character just set forth, or which the 
 romancer found at hand already adapted to his 
 superficial treatment. A synthesis of the char- 
 acter of Clitophon proves to be of special in- 
 terest. His tendency to blame Fortune for his 
 troubles has been observed (ante, p. 118); 
 and from the garish superficiality of his grief 
 (ante, p. 145) may be argued the shallowness of 
 his feelings in general. This mere sentimentality 
 is nowhere more evident than in the passage 
 where he really does show his only bit of decent 
 filial feeling. When he hears that his father is 
 on the way to Alexandria (V. xi) he exclaims: 
 "With what face can I look upon him, — I who 
 ran away so shamefully, and who corrupted the 
 charge he had received from his brother ?" 27 
 Does the reader look for an act of real piety 
 from this youth who so humbly acknowledges his 
 former impiety? Surely this now dutiful son 
 
 28 Cf. post, p. 220. 
 
 27 Cf. VIII. iv, where he is ashamed to face Leucippe's 
 father. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 47 
 
 will see that he must face his father and make 
 atonement ? Well, the outcome is : "I can't face 
 him. I'll run away. In fact, I'll run away with 
 the widow." — Here again, at this second of his 
 great choices, Clitophon has " caved in," lament- 
 ably. 
 
 Clitophon possesses physical courage when no 
 moral question is involved, but he is wholly un- 
 supported by a good conscience. He rushes un- 
 armed into the midst of the pirates who are 
 carrying off Leucippe (V. vii) ; but he allows 
 Thersander to beat him ad lib., not only after his 
 offense with Melitta, when he has richly deserved 
 his beating, but even before his offense, when his 
 sense of righteousness ought to have made him 
 bold despite appearances (V. xxiii). When 
 Leucippe's father punches his head (VII. xiv) he 
 not only does not resist, but actually offers him- 
 self to his assailant. Here again the apparent 
 cowardice may be explained away as due to 
 reverence for Sostratus's gray hairs, and to 
 Clitophon's feeling that he really has wronged 
 Leucippe's father. — But what shall be said of a 
 hero who is placed no less than three times in a 
 position where his apparent cowardice needs to 
 be explained away at all? He really is a trifle 
 too abject, and, if he gets more kicks than half- 
 pence, certainly invites them. The height of his 
 absurdity is reached when Thersander, having 
 given him a bloody nose, happens to hit Clito- 
 phon's teeth and wound his own hand, so that, 
 as Clitophon triumphantly narrates (VIII. i), 
 " My teeth avenged the injury done to my nose." 
 Risum teneatis, amici? 
 
148 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 What of his conduct towards Leucippe and 
 towards Melitta? The abduction of Calligone 
 (II. xviii), rendering impossible the marriage 
 between her and Clitophon, ought, one would sup- 
 pose, to open the way for him to ask Leucippe in 
 marriage. Clitophon himself has thought of his 
 engagement to Calligone as an obstacle to a mar- 
 riage with Leucippe, and has thus by the plainest 
 implication indicated that marriage was what he 
 wished (I. xi). Yet no sooner is the obstacle 
 removed than he at once (II. xix) caps his 
 dishonorable intrigue by persuading Leucippe to 
 give him the assignation in her room. Granted 
 that assignation, elopement follows, naturally if 
 not inevitably; for the lover would in all prob- 
 ability have been discovered, and in any case 
 Leucippe's mother would have plagued the life 
 out of her. But — why the assignation at all? 
 Clitophon, though of course he could not have 
 known that the letter offering him Leucippe's 
 hand was at that very moment on the way, just as 
 certainly had no reason to suppose that Leu- 
 cippe's hand would be refused him. However, 
 we know by this time what to expect of a 
 Clitophon. 
 
 His ethos in this affair, though, is actually less 
 unmotived, or less perverted in its motivation, if 
 possible, than his ethos towards Melitta. As 
 long as both Leucippe and Thersander are be- 
 lieved to be dead, as long as Clitophon is sup- 
 posed to be a widower and Melitta a widow, and 
 both together lawfully husband and wife, — as 
 long, that is to say, as Clitophon might, in right 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 49 
 
 feeling and right morals, have been justified in 
 yielding to Melitta — , just so long does he refuse 
 to yield ; alleging arguments about the sacredness 
 of his bond to the dead Leucippe, his horror of 
 desecrating her tomb the sea; and the laws of 
 ocean itself enjoining chastity (V. xiv-xvi). 
 Then Leucippe is found, and we hear (V. xxi) 
 that Clitophon feels he cannot even look at 
 another woman; and then Thersander reappears 
 too ; and it becomes plain, not only that Clitophon 
 is a married man, but that Melitta is a married 
 woman; so that now any surrender on either 
 part would indeed be a double adultery. Well — 
 this is precisely when he does yield (V. xxvii). 28 
 And later, this perversion of all decent feeling 
 and morals is made the very essence of the 
 quibble whereby the guilty pair are saved: — viz. 
 that they had not offended during Thersander 's 
 absence (VIII. xi). 
 
 The fact is that Achilles Tatius is simply in- 
 capable of depicting, we will not say lofty, but 
 reasonably well-behaved character, even in his 
 hero and his heroine. He is far more at home 
 among the low characters whom he gets from the 
 " New " Attic and the Roman comedy, and whom 
 he hands over to the fabliau, and to Renaissance 
 comedy and novella: — his Satyrus and Clio, in- 
 triguing servants ; his Sosthenes, a pimping slave ; 
 his Thersander, a husband not only jealous, but 
 violent and foolish, and therefore, as by a law of 
 nature, cuckolded and fooled to the top of his 
 
 88 Cf. Passow, in Ersch und Gruber's " Encyclopaedic," 
 I, P- 304, quoted by Jacobs, " Prolegomena " to his edition 
 of Achilles Tatius, pp. xiii, xvi. 
 
150 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 bent. It is significant of the viciousness of Ach- 
 illes Tatius's method, however, that he seeks to 
 give to even this great oaf a certain sentimental 
 interest, by making him weep sympathetic tears 
 for Leucippe, and by tracing his delicate motives 
 for weeping (VI. vii). But all is vain; Ther- 
 sander puts the capstone to his folly when he 
 himself frames his challenge with the qualifica- 
 tion "during my absence" (VIII. xi) ; and so 
 he is fully stultified, e al fine rimase beffato e 
 schernito. 
 
 Critics have often remarked that in the Greek 
 romances the women are superior to the men, 
 both in character as persons and in characteriza- 
 tion as personages. The remark is, on the whole, 
 justified. Its exact value may be tested by a com- 
 parison of the " best " of the heroes, Theagenes, 
 with the " best " of the heroines, Chariclea, and 
 by a concluding examination of the characters of 
 Leucippe and Melitta. 
 
 Theagenes possesses active courage, of a theat- 
 rical, spectacular sort. He is ready to fight, and 
 when he fights he wins : witness his victory over 
 the pirate Pelorus (V. xxxii) and over the cham- 
 pion wrestler (X. xxx-xxxii). He resists the 
 torture, and continually calls upon Chariclea, and 
 wishes that she may hear of his fortitude (VIII. 
 vi). About to be sacrificed, he performs aston- 
 ishing feats of strength and address, with a smil- 
 ing countenance, — and — before numerous specta- 
 tors (X. xxviii-xxx). Nor is he without moral 
 fortitude (cf. ante, p. 141). Let not his willing- 
 ness to commit suicide (II. iv-v) be imputed to 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 151 
 
 him for cowardice ; it was a pagan courage. But 
 evidence it certainly is of the kind of courage he 
 possesses — his total lack of that fundamental 
 cheerful toughness which characterizes the real 
 hero. He is ready to " cave in," not, like Clito- 
 phon, in moral ignominy, but in mere gloom and 
 Acedia. What's the use? — he asks, when, having 
 escaped the brigands, he and Chariclea see them- 
 selves about to fall into the hands of Mithranes's 
 troops (V. vi-vii) : "Let us yielde to fortune, 
 and withstand no longer the violence which is 
 ready to assault us, for what els shall we gaine, 
 but fruitless travell, and banished life, and from 
 time to time be scorned of the Goddes?" (U129). 
 Of the pair, Chariclea is by far the tougher 
 and more cheerful. That virtu of hers, so promptly 
 exercised in fooling her suitors, is quite as prompt 
 to encourage her lover. While he always takes 
 the gloomiest view of the situation, she is always 
 hopeful. In answer to his last-quoted bit of pes- 
 simism, she " allowed not all that he had said. 
 Mary she thought that he justly accused fortune, 
 but not that it was any point of wisedome to 
 yielde themselves willingly into the enimies hands. 
 . . . Measuring our hope of time to come, with 
 experience of that which is past, howe wee have 
 bene diversely preserved at such time as is not 
 credible" (U 129; V. vii). She it is who keeps 
 him reminded that they are under providential 
 guidance. When they have been taken by Hy- 
 daspes, and Theagenes breaks his bitter jest about 
 their golden chains (IX. ii), " Cariclia smiled 
 . . . and brought him in remembrance of that 
 
152 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 which the Gods had foreshewed unto them, and 
 so put him into better hope " (U 234). She is a 
 good fighter withal. The pirates having fallen 
 out, "she when she sawe the battaile begonne, 
 shotte out of the shippe in such sort as she never 
 missed one" (U 151, V. xxxii). Her leadership 
 is recognized by Theagenes quite early in their 
 acquaintance. Upon leaving Delphi he swears 
 not merely to respect her honor, but " that he 
 would doo all thinges in such sorte, as Cariclia 
 would have him" (U 117; IV. xviii). Accord- 
 ingly she takes the initiative in telling their story 
 to Thyamis (I. xxii) ; and she soothes and ad- 
 monishes Theagenes (I. xxv-xxvii), who doesn't 
 in the least understand her drift or relish her 
 apparent willingness to marry the robber chief. 
 When they are about to be taken by the troops 
 of Mithranes, " after Theagenes had saide, Let 
 us do as you will, she went before and he folowed 
 her, as if he had bene tied to her " (U 129 ; V. vii, 
 KaOdirep ekKOfxevo^ — literally 'as if dragged!'). 
 And, towards the end, despite his natural desire 
 that she shall disclose her identity, it is her policy 
 of concealment that prevails (IX.xxiii). Through- 
 out the " iEthiopica," at least as far as concerns 
 the action of the lovers, within the small scope 
 left to them by Providence and Fortune, dux 
 femina facti. 2Q 
 
 No such function of leadership is assigned to 
 Leucippe or to Melitta. As Leucippe is separated 
 
 20 There are but two slips in the characterization and 
 motivation of Chariclea : her calling herself Thisbe (V. iii ; 
 ante, p. 142 n. 24), and her overdone underhandedness in 
 the denouement (X. xix-xxii ; ante, p. 140). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 153 
 
 so much from Clitophon, and the story is told by 
 him, we see comparatively little of her, and do 
 not know, for instance, how she felt or con- 
 ducted herself in those crises of her career — the 
 apparent disembowelment and the apparent de- 
 capitation. From the fact, however, that her 
 physical sufferings are far greater than his ; from 
 what we see of her ability to take care of herself 
 by way of cheerful lying (I. xxv, xxviii) ; and 
 from her seldom wasting words in vain lamenta- 
 tion ; we may well infer the truth of the assertion 
 that her hopefulness and cheer was habitual 
 (VIII. xiii, Odpaos /cal iXirh rj avvrjOris) . But 
 Leucippe is no silent martyr of virtue; it is in 
 expression that she is chiefly gifted. Her skill in 
 mendacity has been noted; observe now the dif- 
 ference between her letter to Clitophon (V. 
 xviii), with its direct, practical and forcible ap- 
 peal, and his feeble piece of antithesis by way of 
 answer (V. xx) ; finally, hear her scathing invec- 
 tive against Thersander and Sosthenes (VI. xii- 
 xiii, xviii, xx-xxii). She fairly routs them; but 
 not before that vitriolic tongue of hers has flayed 
 them alive. This is one of the few really satis- 
 factory scenes in Achilles Tatius. 30 
 
 80 Even in this, there is a slip in the characterization. 
 Leucippe (VI. xviii) is made to say to Thersander: "You 
 will not succeed with me unless you turn into Clitophon." 
 Now she had just resolved (see her soliloquy VI. xvi) not 
 to mention Clitophon; and even had she made no positive 
 resolve, it was most unwise to mention him, as it could 
 not fail to infuriate Thersander. To let the heathen rage 
 was probably the author's purpose; but that does not justify 
 him in making his heroine tactless. — This letting the heathen 
 rage appears to be a convention of the Green Romances. 
 The character of Greeks is represented as moderate and 
 
154 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 But as a work of art no other character in the 
 Greek Romances can compare with that of Me- 
 litta. Very lofty or edifying art, certainly, this 
 is not, nor by any means a " perfect " or " ideal " 
 character; but very fine and accomplished art it 
 just as certainly is, and a character full-rounded, 
 human, and sympathetic despite its sins. Next 
 to Melitta the other personages — particularly He- 
 liodorus's Arsace and Demaeneta, who outwardly 
 are akin to her — pale into mere types that here 
 and there emerge into individuality; Melitta is 
 an individual first, last, and all the time. Her 
 quip about the cenotaph and the cenogam (V. 
 xiv), almost the first word we hear her speak, 
 marks her at once as possessed of a sense of 
 humor actually sufficient to enable her to joke 
 about her own troubles ; and, unlike Theagenes's 
 bitter jest about his golden chains ("T. & C," 
 IX. ii) it really does stir laughter. This is the 
 beginning of our sympathy with Melitta, — a sym- 
 pathy confirmed in the racy scene with Leucippe 
 (V. xii), where Melitta begs her own rival to 
 make her a philtre for Clitophon. Upon Leu- 
 cippe's malicious inquiry — ' Is the gentleman your 
 
 self-controlled, that of barbarians as subject to extremes of 
 ungovernable passion — lust in women, e. g., Arsace ; rage, 
 or abject cowardice, or insolent foolhardiness in men ; e. g., 
 Thersander, Thermuthis, the Egyptian brigands (" A. T.," 
 IV. xiv). (Cf. the Saracens in Mediaeval Romance and 
 in the Italian Romantic Epic ; and Herod in the Mystery 
 Plays.) Such a survival of the old Hellenic prejudice 
 against outsiders remains in interesting contrast with the 
 new cosmopolitanism, exemplified, e. g., in Achilles Tatius's 
 selection of Tyrians as his hero and heroine, or perhaps 
 still more strikingly in the winning, by a Phoenician and 
 a merchant at that, of a prize in the Pythian games (" T. 
 & G" IV. xvi). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION, 155 
 
 husband ? ' — Melitta's plain-spoken answer, show- 
 ing how far Clitophon falls short of justifying 
 the title, at the same time reveals to Leucippe 
 that Clitophon has been faithful to her. On both 
 sides, here, there is broad and yet fine comic char- 
 acterization. But observe Melitta, sola, when she 
 picks up Leucippe's letter (V. xxiv) and grad- 
 ually realizes the true state of affairs. The play 
 of her feelings, the " conflicting emotions" that 
 Achilles Tatius is so fond of attributing to his 
 personages — these are here neither more nor less 
 than the reality; for once, his analysis is entirely 
 appropriate, perfectly measured, and quite free 
 from superficial rhetoric. The reading of the 
 letter occasions an emotional display the ade- 
 quate portrayal of which would tax the powers 
 o f an accomplished comic actress. Evidently, this 
 woman Melitta is not a mask; evidently, there is 
 some emotional depth to her. 
 
 There is intellectual depth, too. That she 
 should deceive her husband in word as well as 
 deed is all a consistent portion of her character ; 
 and she plays the part to perfection, — her plausi- 
 ble story almost convincing Thersander himself 
 (VI. xi). She withholds her knowledge of Leu- 
 cippe's disappearance, treasuring it up against 
 the chance that Thersander may make an inves- 
 tigation. In that case, her servants, who had 
 accompanied Leucippe to the country, would tes- 
 tify to Melitta's zeal in caring for Clitophon's 
 wife, and in searching for her after her disap- 
 pearance — the plain implication being that Me- 
 litta's relations with Clitophon were innocent; 
 
156 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 but that Leucippe had nevertheless been spirited 
 away — a fact somewhat awkward for Thersander 
 to explain! (VI. viii-x). The motivation here 
 has been thoroughly studied out; it is complete; 
 it gains our assent at once. 31 
 
 ButMelitta is more than just the cunning wife, 
 la rusee, la scaltrita, of the novella and the fab- 
 liau; — she is a woman passionately in love, and 
 capable of suffering. Her love for Clitophon, 
 which in its beginning is innocent, and may there- 
 fore at first justly claim our sympathy, keeps that 
 sympathy in its guilty end — almost excused 
 (though unjustified) by the brutality of Ther- 
 sander. At least, we say, I will not cast the first 
 stone. For this woman indeed loved much and 
 suffered much : in all her pleading with Clitophon 
 the accent of truth is most poignant. This pas- 
 sion of hers — in both its senses — reaches its cli- 
 max in her magnificent tirade to Clitophon in 
 prison (V. xxv-xxvi) — a remarkable piece of 
 emotional argument. Achilles Tatius's antitheses 
 and climaxes, and the whole array of his rhe- 
 torical figures, find here their natural and proper 
 place, and become really effective. The change 
 of Melitta's mood, so clearly and truthfully por- 
 trayed; the impassioned eloquence and power of 
 her pleadings; the real pathos of her situation; 
 make the scene a masterpiece of serious, nay 
 almost tragic, characterization. I f anything could 
 
 81 For similar skill in motivation, cf. the plan of intro- 
 ducing to Clitophon a pretended fellow-prisoner (VII. i). 
 We may be sure that Thersander never thought this out. 
 It savors of Sosthenes, with whom Thersander has just 
 been conferring. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION I $7 
 
 mitigate Clitophon's offense, it would be this 
 splendid appeal from this splendid, this most real 
 and humanly sinful woman. No — decidedly — 
 she does not belong in the novella or in the 
 fabliau, but rather in the works of Balzac or 
 Flaubert. In the Greek Romances, certainly, with 
 their shallow view of life, their dearth of mate- 
 rials for the creation of personality, their subjec- 
 tion to Fortune, and their voluntary enslavement 
 to rhetoric, characterization could no further go. 
 At the end of this treatment of Plot and Char- 
 acter in the Greek Romances there may now be 
 briefly discussed an element which partakes of 
 both — the element of Humor. Wyttenbach 32 
 says : " Heliodorus argumento compositioneque 
 ad heroicum carmen vel tragoediam accedit. . . . 
 Achilles contra manet in quotidianae vitae lege 
 ac consuetudine, et propior est comoediae ; et non- 
 nunquam ad hilaritatem et festivitatem remitti- 
 tur." The more these Romances are studied, the 
 more evident becomes the justice of this remark. 
 Heliodorus is indeed, both in substance and in 
 structure, idealistic, heroic, epic, tragic; Achilles 
 Tatius, realistic, everyday, pedestrian, often 
 comic. And it is a fact that in " Clitophon and 
 Leucippe " humor counts for much more than in 
 the " yEthiopica." Ancient criticism too saw very 
 truly and subtly this connection between realism 
 and comedy. Longinus (IX. 15) observes that 
 both poetry and prose, in their decline, resolve 
 themselves into the description of ?}0o?, by which 
 he appears to mean not so much character as 
 
 82 Bibl. Crit. Pt. II, pp. 57-58. Quoted by Jacobs, Pro- 
 legomena to his edition of Achilles Tatius, p. xv. 
 
158 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 manners and customs (mores). The Odyssey, 
 for example (which Longinus considers to be 
 not up to the true epic standard set by the Iliad) 
 — the Odyssey, in the realistic detail it gives about 
 matters at the house of Odysseus, becomes as it 
 were a comedy of manners. (rj airatc^r\ tov ira- 
 6ov$ iv to2? neyakovs avyypacj)evai /cal 7roL7)Tal<; et? 
 ?7#o? etckveTai. roLavra yap ttov to, Trepl ttjv rod 
 'OSuo-ceW r)6uco)<; avrw ^LoXoyovfieva olfctav, olovel 
 tccoiKpSia rt? kdTiv rjOoXoyovfievrj.) 
 
 It might, then, be assumed almost a priori that 
 the epic-tragic main plot of the " ^Ethiopica " 
 would offer little place for humor. The assump- 
 tion is justified; such humor as Heliodorus is 
 capable of, he places almost wholly in his epi- 
 sodes. It centres about the figure of Cnemon, 
 who not only is often rallied about his cowardice 
 (ante, pp. 138— 139), but is himself, in more senses 
 than one, a sad wag. He gibes at Theagenes for 
 being agitated at the sight of Thisbe's corpse: 
 " though you had a swoorde by your side, yet 
 you, like a stoute and valiante warriour, were 
 afraid of a woman, and shee deade. . . . Hereat 
 they [Theagenes and Chariclea] smiled a little" 
 (U 49). Again, when the young couple have 
 agreed to disguise themselves as beggars, he 
 shrewdly nippeth them : " That will be well (saide 
 Cnemon) for ye be very evell favoured people, 
 but moste Cariclia, whose eye was lately pulled 
 out [in her dream, II. xvi], wherefore me think- 
 eth you will not onely aske peeces of breade, but 
 coverletes and caldrons. Hereat they smiled a 
 litle, so that their laughter moved but their lippes 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 159 
 
 onely" (U 58-9). — And very polite at that, we 
 should say. Encountering Calasiris near Chem- 
 mis, Cnemon asks the old priest who he is, and 
 Calasiris returns the question ; whereupon, " That 
 were a mery jeste in deede, saide Cnemon." 
 These specimens of the young man's humor will 
 probably suffice; if not, others may be found at 
 U 65, 79-80, 156. The conversation of Calasiris 
 with the deaf fisherman Tyrrhenus (V. xviii; 
 U 137-8; cf. post p. 196-197 n. 64) — also an epi- 
 sode — affords a gleam of humor in the deaf 
 man's answers at loggerheads. There is still an- 
 other humorous episode — the meeting of Calasi- 
 ris, Nausicles and Cnemon with an anonymous 
 youth whom Heliodorus creates merely to tell 
 them news. Incidentally this " messenger " 
 appears to be in love with a girl named Isias, 
 who is leading him a merry dance to satisfy her 
 caprices. Nausicles indulges in a bit of pleasan- 
 try at the lover's expense ; who hastens off to his 
 mistress, and the incident is closed (VI. iii, iv; 
 cf. post p. 196-197 n. 64). From the main plot 
 I recall but three humorous passages, likewise of 
 a very mild order. Calasiris and Chariclea dis- 
 guised as beggars jest at their own appearance 
 (VI. xi, xii) ; Calasiris rallies Chariclea upon 
 her expertness in inventing schemes to put off 
 her suitors (VI. ix; cf. ante, p. 139) ; Theagenes 
 jokes ironically about the golden fetters placed 
 upon him and Chariclea by the Ethiopians (IX. 
 ii; U 234, quoted post, p. 214, q. v.). On the 
 whole, humor is not Heliodorus's strong point. 33 
 
 "There is a bit of unintentional fun in Underdowne's 
 version of one of Chariclea's laments: "But O Theagenes, 
 
l6o THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 The realistic hnmor of Achilles Tatius has 
 already been observed at its best in the scenes of 
 high comedy that centre about Melitta (ante, pp. 
 154-155). Hardly below these is the passage at 
 V. xx, where Clitophon protests that he is not 
 really Melitta's husband, and Satyrus answers 
 ' Tush, man, you sleep with her ! ' — the sort of 
 answer that is all-conclusive in Comedy, and can 
 be warranted to bring down the house. Repeated 
 once or twice, it would become a true Moliere- 
 esque catchword, like " Mais que diable allait-il 
 faire dans cette galere?" or "Sans dot!" In 
 fact, the whole scene is richly humorous, from 
 the moment when Satyrus declares that he has 
 mollified Leucippe by telling her that Clitophon 
 has married Melitta against his will — absent- 
 mindedly as it were — to the composition of Clito- 
 phon's silly answer to Leucippe's letter. Very 
 funny too is the solemn beginning of the supper- 
 party in the temple (VIII. iv) : Clitophon with a 
 black eye and a bloody nose is ashamed to meet 
 the eye of Sostratus across the table ; while Sos- 
 tratus, having given Clitophon that same black eye, 
 is too much embarrassed to look at him. The 
 horseplay implied here is more prominent in the 
 broadly comic genre-picture of " The Husband's 
 Return" (V. xxiii). Clitophon and Melitta be- 
 ing at dinner, in comes Thersander, and boxes 
 and buffets the young gentleman about 34 — who 
 
 ... if thou be dead ... it is time I offer these funeralls 
 to thee (and herewithall she pulled off her haire, and laid 
 it on her bed)" (U 163; VI. viii). 
 
 84 On this, and the other scene of fustigation in the tem- 
 ple (VIII. i) cf. ante, p. 147. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION l6l 
 
 meanwhile philosophizes! (Quaere, whether this 
 be not a burlesque of those same domestic scenes 
 in the Odyssey which displease Longinus?) 
 Achilles Tatius's fondness for low intrigue pro- 
 duces several genre pictures of the same Flemish 
 or Hogarthian realism. Leucippe's mother 
 " takes on like anything " ; faints ; recovers ; boxes 
 Clio's ears ; scolds Leucippe ; Leucippe trumps up 
 a story; and her mother again "takes on" (II. 
 xxiv-xxv). The talk is like a popular Italian 
 ballad-dialogue between a strict mother and a gay 
 daughter, or like that of the peasants in some of 
 Fortini's novelle. Again (II. xx-xxii), two in- 
 triguing slaves swap fables, of which the second 
 has much of the spirit of Uncle Remus. Or Cli- 
 tophon and Satyrus go by night to Clinias's lodg- 
 ing and try to rouse him ; while they are under 
 his window clamoring in the dark street, they are 
 joined by Clio the slave-girl (II. xxvi) :— a vivid 
 bit of genre. Even more masterly is the pica- 
 resque scene at the inn, as described by the decoy- 
 prisoner (VII. iii). Either of these last might 
 figure creditably in " Roderick Random" or " Gil 
 Bias." The antics of Clitophon in love (I. vi), 
 the further talk between Leucippe and her mother 
 (II.xxviii),Thersander's precipitate retreat, "to 
 avoid a third ordeal" (VIII. xiv), are all dis- 
 tinctly amusing ; but the modern reader will hardly 
 force a smile at Menelaus's mummery ^ (III. 
 xviii), or at Leucippe's unseemly kicking in the 
 convulsions with which her derangement began 
 (IV. ix), or at the priest's " Aristophanic " in- 
 vective against Thersander (VIII. ix). Nor will 
 
 12 
 
l62 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 he find to his taste the misogynistic passages, 
 which undoubtedly amused the Greek and prob- 
 ably amused the Renaissance reader : — the cynical 
 view of Sosthenes (VI. xvii) ; Menelaus's argu- 
 ments and propensities (II. xxxv-xxxviii) ; Clin- 
 ias's invective against women and marriage (I. 
 viii). It is of interest, however, to find such con- 
 siderable portions of the argument de conjuge 
 non ducenda worked out at this early date. Satire 
 against women, apparently a convention of Greek 
 as of mediaeval literature, finds a place not only 
 in Euripides and in Lucian, but in Achilles Tatius 
 as well. 
 
 Longus oilers few specifically humorous pas- 
 sages like the vintage-scene, where Daphnis and 
 Chloe are each jealous of the attentions paid to 
 the other (II. ii), or the wedding ( IV. xxxviii-xl) 
 where the smell of the goats and the rudeness 
 of the rustic chorus are gently laughed at. His 
 humor is rather pervasive, inhering as it does in 
 the incongruity between the children's innocence 
 and. the piquancy of their experiments. Unlike 
 the humor of Heliodorus, which is verbal, re- 
 siding in comment or gibe, it is more like that of 
 Achilles Tatius, a part of the situation itself, 
 inherent in the relations of the persons to each 
 other as the plot evolves. 
 
 So much for the humor of the Greek Ro- 
 mances. We turn to a study of their Setting — 
 their background in time (historical) and in space 
 (geographical), and their general mise en scene 
 of descriptive circumstance. 
 
 Among the Greek Romances known to the 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 63 
 
 Renaissance none possesses an historical back- 
 ground that is at all definite, accurate or consis- 
 tent, or that vitally affects the course of the tale. 35 
 The events of the "yEthiopica " are supposed to 
 occur while Egypt is still a satrapy of Persia — 
 i. e., before the conquests of Alexander — and at 
 a time when the Satrap is at war with the half- 
 legendary King of Ethiopia. Within these shad- 
 owy limits there occur plenty of anachronisms 
 and historical inconsistencies (Rohde 452-455), 
 but nothing to date the story. Of " Clitophon 
 and Leucippe " all we know is that its events take 
 place after the time of Alexander, or at least 
 after the foundation of Alexandria and the build- 
 ing of the Pharos, and before the final destruc- 
 tion of the temple of Diana at Ephesus. Here 
 again a supposed war between Thrace and Byzan- 
 tium pushes its way into the plot, and takes Leu- 
 cippe to Tyre. But that is all. As for Daphnis 
 and Chloe, for all we know, they may have loved 
 any time this side the Golden Age. 
 
 The geographical setting, despite specific names, 
 is hardly less vague than the historical. On 
 Lesbos there are undoubtedly hills and streams, 
 shores, caves and harbors such as those described 
 by Longus ; — but so there are elsewhere. Helio- 
 dorus, whose detailed accounts of matters Egyp- 
 
 36 The Ninus-fragment (discovered 1893) and the romance 
 of Chariton (" Chaereas and Callirhoe," first published 1750) 
 may be properly termed historical fiction, the first because 
 of its historical hero and heroine (Ninus and Semiramis) 
 and its prominent and (comparatively) consistent histor- 
 ical setting; the second because of its historical personages 
 (Artaxerxes, etc.). Both may be dated before 200 A.D. 
 As both were unknown to the Renaissance, they will re- 
 ceive no further notice here. 
 
164 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 tian have been supposed to prove personal ac- 
 quaintance with Egypt, has been shown to be 
 inaccurate. (Naber, in Mnemosyne, N. S., I. 
 
 (^73) > P- x 4 6 ff-> cited b y Rohde, 456, n. I.) 
 What matter? The face of the earth, built of 
 spaces that hold its regions apart, and diversified 
 by cities, islands, winds, waves and strange in- 
 habitants, is for Heliodorus, as well as for Achilles 
 Tatius, just the board on which the powers play 
 their game, — no more. Any space whatever will 
 do to separate two lovers, any storm to throw out 
 of its course the ship that bears them, any city to 
 receive them. What happens may have happened 
 almost anywhere. 36 
 
 In the absence of real local color, both Helio- 
 dorus and Achilles Tatius employ geographical 
 setting largely as a source of instruction and en- 
 tertainment, by way of the remarkable misinfor- 
 mation and of the numerous descriptions it plaus- 
 ibly affords. A glance at some of the glosses in 
 Underdowne's version of the "iEthiopica " will 
 suggest the prominence of this instructive matter. 
 "A pretty discourse of Achilles countrie with 
 the arguments that the Aenians have to prove 
 that they are of Achilles bloud" (75). "The 
 Calidonian sea, is very troublesome" (136) ; and 
 Calasiris at great length explains why. Comply- 
 ing with the request of his new acquaintances at 
 
 86 The geographical background, like the historical, ap- 
 pears, in the Romances we are here concerned with, to 
 have declined from an earlier state of much greater impor- 
 tance. " The Marvels Beyond Thule " of Antonius Diogenes 
 is the very type of Reiseroman. In the " Babylonica " of 
 Iamblichus, the local color, Oriental at least in intention, is 
 sometimes essential to the story (Rohde, 378-9). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 65 
 
 Delphi, he gives various information about Egypt 
 — its religions, the construction of its tombs and 
 pyramids, the source of the Nile, and the causes 
 of the flood (68-9). "Wherefore soever yron 
 serveth in other countries, gold serveth in Ethi- 
 opia" (234). "Howe the Persian horsman is 
 armed." . . . " How a Steele coat is made" (245). 
 " How the Trogloditae weare their arrowes " viz. 
 radiating from their turbans ; . . . " Whereof the 
 Trogloditae make their arrowes " : viz. " from a 
 bone out of the dragons backe . . . they sharpen 
 the same, and make a naturall head thereof" 
 (248). " Nylus, Asasoba, and Astabora, flouds 
 of Ethiopia beside Meroe " (261 ) . " The length 
 and breadth of the Hand wherein Meroe is " . . . 
 "Wheate and other fruite of ^Ethiopia." . . . 
 " The reedes of /Ethiopia are great belike " (262) 
 — this last a cautious observation to temper the 
 account of Hydaspes' bamboo pavilion, which 
 was "made of foure reedes . . . so that at everie 
 corner stoode a reede to stay it up insteede of a 
 pillar " : — rather too tall a story to be swallowed 
 without a gloss. That the Blemmyes stabbed the 
 Persian horses in the belly, and then having thus 
 brought down both horse and rider, proceeded to 
 hamstring the latter, is advertised as " A notable 
 fact of the Blemmies " (247). Hydaspes' recep- 
 tion of ambassadors and gifts from various peo- 
 ples offers an unusual opportunity for the intro- 
 duction of "notable facts" (278-9); and his 
 sojourn at Syene enables its people to show him 
 a Nilometer, and sundials which at the solstice 
 cast no shadow — Syene being on the tropic — and 
 
1 66 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 to discuss again the course of the Nile, its pecu- 
 liar plants and animals, and its functions of fer- 
 tilizing, of making alluvial land, and of serving 
 as a calendar (250-251). 
 
 Achilles Tatius likewise loses no opportunity 
 to tell of strange lands and strange beasts : — the 
 Hippopotamus (IV. ii-iii) ; the Elephant and his 
 sweet breath (IV. iv-v) ; the Phoenix and his 
 pious son (III. xxv) ; the Crocodile, whose teeth 
 extend back almost to his belly (IV. xix) ; a 
 Sicilian spring, where fire and water mingle; a 
 musical river in Spain, played upon by the wind ; 
 a Libyan lake from which gold is fished up by 
 means of poles smeared with pitch (II. xiv). 
 Indeed, so far from losing an existent oppor- 
 tunity, he creates opportunities where they do not 
 exist. Not one of the passages just cited has the 
 slightest relevancy. 
 
 Longus is saved from such geographical digres- 
 sions, just as he is saved from the domination of 
 Fortune — by staying at home. And in describ- 
 ing that home, he exhibits, far more than either 
 Heliodorus or Achilles Tatius, a true artist's ap- 
 preciation of the intrinsic beauty of his setting. 
 The thicket and the grotto where Daphnis and 
 Chloe respectively were found (I. ii, iv) ; the 
 sights, sounds, and occupations of summer (I. 
 xxiii), of winter (III. iii-iv), and of spring (III. 
 xii-xiii) ; the garden of Philetas (II. iii) and the 
 garden of Lamon (IV. ii-iii) — the latter with its 
 distant view of meadows and grazing sheep and 
 cattle, and of the sea with ships sailing by; the 
 vintage (II. i-ii) and the gathering of the fruit 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 67 
 
 (III. xxx-xxxiv) ; — these are some of the fea- 
 tures, truly imagined, of that old rustic world in 
 which Longus's boy and girl shepherded their 
 flocks. Certainly, as has been said, neither this 
 landscape nor this country life is peculiar to 
 Lesbos ; but whether in Lesbos or in Sicily, " in 
 Tempe or the dales of Arcady," it breathes the 
 same Theocritean charm — a charm with which 
 there is nothing at all comparable in either of the 
 other Romances. Still, when Heliodorus and 
 Achilles Tatius consent to forego their puerile 
 delight in " hearing or telling some new thing," 
 and soberly endeavor to make a real background 
 for real events, they are not without success. 
 Heliodorus's account of " The habitation and 
 place, where the thieves of Egypt aboade, . . . 
 with their common wealth, and trade of life" 
 (U 14) ; the corresponding and partly imitative 
 passage in " Clitophon and Leucippe " describing 
 the Nile and its floods and the buccaneers' islands 
 (IV. xi, xii) ; Heliodorus's grandiose account of 
 the ceremonies at Delphi (III. i-v) ; Achilles 
 Tatius's lively description of the gay traffic on 
 the Nile (IV. xviii) and of the city of Alexan- 
 dria (V. i-ii) ; do succeed in imparting to the 
 reader some sense that the action of the story is 
 taking place in this world. But such passages 
 are rare. For the most part, the geographical 
 setting of these two Romances is made to serve 
 the sophist's turn for pseudo-science and improv- 
 ing misinformation, for marvel and paradox, and 
 for set description. 
 An excess of description, in particular, is one 
 
1 68 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 of the most striking faults of the whole genre. 
 Here again, Longus offends least, kept safe by 
 that artistic feeling which among these rhetori- 
 cians fell to his share alone. Yet even he over- 
 describes; — inserting, for example, into his de- 
 scription of the garden of Lamon an irrelevant 
 list of the paintings or sculptures in the temple 
 of Bacchus that stood there. We may well, how- 
 ever, be "astonished at his moderation" when 
 we remember that the whole of " Daphnis and 
 Chloe" — the very story — purports to be an ex- 
 planation of a series of pictures. 37 Pictures he 
 does give us, in plenty, not confining these to 
 background, either (ante, pp. 166-167), but en- 
 visaging the incidents themselves pictorially: 
 Chloe girdled with a fawn-skin and crowned with 
 pine meets Daphnis and offers him a drink of 
 milk (I. xxxiv) ; Daphnis swims ashore sup- 
 ported on the horns of two cows (I. xxx) ; 
 Daphnis as the strangers from town first behold 
 him (IV. xiv) or as Gnatho describes him (IV. 
 xvii) ; and many others. Nor does he confine his 
 art to visual impressions alone; he gives a wide 
 range of lovely sensuous images — the sounds and 
 motions and odors of his idyllic world, as well as 
 its sights. There is the sailors' song and chorus 
 and its echo, coming broken and diversified by the 
 varying conformation of land and water (III. 
 xxi) ; Philetas's piping (II. xxxv) ; Dryas's pan- 
 tomimic dance of the vintage (II. xxxvi) and 
 
 87 This conception of the story as a succession of Idylls 
 (elStiWia — little pictures) is accepted by M. Raphael Collin, 
 who has re-translated " Daphnis and Chloe " into the lan- 
 guage of pictorial art. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 69 
 
 Daphnis and Chloe's dramatic dance of Pan and 
 Syrinx (II. xxxvii) ; the piping of Daphnis and 
 Chloe, the nightingale's responsive song, and the 
 bleating of the flocks — a chorus of springtime 
 (III. xii-xiii) ; and the rich autumnal garner of 
 pears and apples, with all the color and fragrance 
 of the fruit — especially that golden apple for 
 which Daphnis climbed to the topmost bough 
 (III. xxxiii-xxxiv). But with all this abund- 
 ance of pictures and golden profusion of sensu- 
 ous imagery, Longus has spared us the tedious 
 descriptions which his Proem may well have led 
 us to expect. He stops well within the bounds 
 of that older Greek moderation which the other 
 Romancers seem to have unlearned. His pas- 
 toral theme and his sense of measure, together 
 with his instinct for beauty, keep him from ex- 
 cess, and, despite his elaborate style, let him rest 
 in an effect of simplicity. This richness in sim- 
 plicity is what constitutes his peculiar charm. 
 
 In Achilles Tatius the excess of description, 
 like the excess of " psychologizing " (ante, p. 
 145), is a trick of the rhetorician's trade. The 
 descriptive show-pieces of which he is so fond 
 were, like the rjOoiroieiat, a regular exercise of 
 the schools, known as e/cQpao-is, "a set descrip- 
 tion intended to bring a person, place, picture, 
 etc., vividly before the mind's eye. It is found 
 largely in the Epideictic rhetoricians, and still 
 more largely in the Greek Romances." 38 These 
 ifc<f)pd(Tei<;, many of which have come down to us 
 
 38 Saintsbury, " Hist, of Grit.," Vol. I, Index. " Epideic- 
 tic — the third kind of oratory — the rhetoric of display " 
 (ibid.). 
 
170 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 in the works of Theocritus, Moschus, Ovid, 
 Aelian, Lucian, Callistratus, Philostratus and 
 others, differ fundamentally both in purpose and 
 in method from the descriptions in Greek class- 
 ical poetry. Classical descriptions — the Shield of 
 Achilles (II. XVIII. fin.), the Palace and the 
 Garden of Alcinous (Od. VII), the sleeping 
 eagle of Zeus, and Mount Aetna in eruption 
 (Pindar, Pyth., I) — are made "with the eye on 
 the object," and with the purpose of giving 
 material or background for action, or brilliant 
 illumination to a stage in the lyrical evolution of 
 an idea. The sophistical descriptions of Hellen- 
 istic and post-Hellenistic times, the i/ccfypdo-eis , 
 are made for their own sake, for display; and 
 with the eye on a picture™ of the object. It has 
 often been pointed out that Alexandrian poetry, 
 and post-Alexandrian poetry both Greek and 
 Roman, found subjects and models largely in 
 Alexandrian painting. 40 This habit of pictorial 
 description, of conceiving a literary theme pic- 
 torially, produces about the same literary result 
 whether in any given case the picture described 
 
 89 " It is indeed, usual among the Latin poets (who had 
 more art and reflection than the Grecian) to take hold of 
 all opportunities to describe the picture of any place or 
 action, which they generally do better than they could the 
 place or action itself." 
 
 Addison's " Notes " on his translations from Ovid. Works, 
 ed. Tickell, 1804, Vol. VI, pp. 177-8. 
 
 "Mahaffy, " Greek Life and Thought," pp. 117 ff, 218 ff, 
 414 ff; Ste. Beuve, " fetude sur Virgile," p. 278; A. Lang, 
 " Theocritus and his Age " (Introduction to his Transla- 
 tion of Theocritus, Bion and Moschus), pp. xxxvii ff; T. 
 R. Glover, " Studies in Virgil," pp. 53-4 ; (who cites) Bois- 
 sier, " Promenades Archeologiques : — Rome et Pompei," pp. 
 342-387. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 171 
 
 by the rhetorician be an existing painting or only 
 an imaginary painting visualized, — a scene re- 
 composed in pictorial terms. 41 Thus, in describ- 
 ing the "real" garden of Clitophon's house (I. 
 xv), Achilles Tatius largely repeats the same 
 details — crystal fountain, cloistered wall, foliage 
 closely interwoven, with interstices through 
 which the sunlight filters upon the ground in 
 flickering spots of light and shade — the same 
 details that he has used to describe the meadow 
 in the painting which opens his story (I. i). The 
 pictorial habit of mind reinforces, and is rein- 
 forced by, the desire for rhetorical display. 
 
 The abduction of Europa, in particular, — the 
 painting of which has just been mentioned — was 
 one of the stock possessions alike of painter, 
 
 41 So that, e. g., the question whether the picture-gallery 
 which Philostratus's Eikovcs (Imagines) profess to describe 
 was genuine or not, concerns not so much the student of 
 literature as the student of painting. In fact, these and 
 similar literary descriptions are well known to have been 
 taken, in their turn, as models for illustration by the paint- 
 ers of the Renaissance. See Ch. Bigot, " Raphael and the 
 Villa Farnesina," pp. 69 ff ; Franz Wickhoff, " Veneziani- 
 sche Bilder," in Jahrb. d. Kgl. preussischen Kuntsversamm- 
 lungen, Vol. 23, pp. 11 8-1 23 ; Richard Forster, " Philostrat's 
 Gemalde in der Renaissance," ibid., Vol. 25, pp. 15-48; 
 " Lucian in der Renaissance" (Kiel, 1886). For the his- 
 tory of Greek painting, the literary documents, including 
 numerous iK<f>pdcreis } are collected in Overbeck, " Die an- 
 tiken Schriftquellen zur Geschichte der bildenden Kiinste 
 bei den Griechen " (Leipzig, 1868). As far as I am aware, 
 there is no comprehensive work on the history of the rela- 
 tions between literature and the graphic arts — a most fas- 
 cinating subject. An important chapter is contributed to 
 the history of the criticism of these relations, by Professor 
 W. G. Howard, in the Publications of the Mod. Lang. Ass'n 
 of America, Vol. XXIV, No. 1 (March, 1909), pp. 40-123, 
 under the title " Ut Pictura Poesis." 
 
172 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 sculptor, engraver, poet and rhetorician. It 
 figured largely in statues, in vase-painting, and 
 in the wall-painting of Alexandria and the cities 
 of southern Italy; 42 it was carved upon gems; 43 
 and, before Achilles Tatius, it had received 
 literary handling in Moschus (Idyll II.) , Horace 
 (Od. III. 27), Ovid (Met. II. 836-875 ; 44 Fasti 
 V. 605 fT. ; Amores I. iii, 23 ff.), Lucian (Dialogi 
 Marini, XV.), Anacreon (Teubner, No. 54) and 
 Nonnus (Dionysiaca, I. 46 fL), and had been 
 travestied in the Batrachomyomachia (65-81). 45 
 Everywhere the treatment revolves in a closed 
 round of images: Europa and her companions 
 
 42 Helbig, " Untersuchungen," pp. 224 ff ; " Campanische 
 Wandgemalde," Nos. 122-130. Otto Jahn, " Die Entfiihr- 
 ung der Europa auf antiken Kunstwerken," in Wiener 
 Akademie, hist-phil. Classe, Denkschriften, v. 19 (whole 
 volume) ; " Uber ein Marmorrelief der Glyptothek in Miin- 
 chen," in Berichte der sdchsischen Gesellschaft der Wissen- 
 schaften, Philol-Hist. Classe, Vol. 6 (1854), pp. 160-194 
 (esp. pp. 185-6). 
 
 43 Furtwangler, " Die Antiken Gemmen," PL VI, 63, 
 XXXVII, s, etc. Reinach, " Pierres Gravees," PI. 28, 29, 
 76, 79. "La Galerie de Florence" (Paris, 1819; no pag- 
 ing, or numbering of plates), Vols. I and IV. 
 
 44 A propos of which, Addison makes the remark quoted 
 ante, p. 170 n. 1, and in the same connection praises Achilles 
 Tatius's Europa as surpassing Ovid's. 
 
 45 From the Renaissance on, its popularity is undimin- 
 ished. Colonna, " Hypnerotomachia Poliphili," I. xiv (with 
 beautiful wood-cuts); Poliziano, " Giostra," I, st. 105-6; 
 Muzio, " La Europa," in " Rime," Vinegia MDLI, ff. 146- 
 151; Maffei, Canzonetta "Quel tuo caro soggiorno," in 
 Parnaso Italiano, Vol. 52, p. 19 ; Marino, " Adone," VI, st. 
 59 sqq. ; Spenser, " Muiopotmos " ; Greene, " Morando " 
 (see post, pp. 399-400) ; Tennyson, " Palace of Art." It 
 forms the subject of paintings by Veronese, Albani, Frans 
 Wouters, Titian, Claude Lorraine, and Guido Reni. The 
 lists given in the text and in this note do not profess to 
 be exhaustive. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 73 
 
 gather flowers; the gentle bull appears, and is 
 described at length; she mounts upon his back 
 and is carried out to sea ; in terror she holds his 
 horn with one hand, while the other grasps his 
 back or her garment; her garment flutters out 
 sail-like in the breeze; she draws up her feet to 
 keep them dry; her anxious companions follow 
 to the water's edge, and wade hesitatingly in; 
 sea-gods and sea-monsters gambol about; the 
 bull " roars gently," answering Triton's horn ; 
 Eros leads the procession, sometimes guiding the 
 bull with reins, or with garlands of flowers. 
 Such is the assortment from which now this 
 group of images, now that, is chosen. Achilles 
 Tatius employs nearly all. And of all these de- 
 tails, it should be remembered, only one has the 
 slightest relevancy to his romance : — the power 
 of Eros. Even this does no more than furnish 
 a pretext for the conversation between Clitophon 
 and the author. All the rest is for show. In 
 the same way, of all the details in the word- 
 painting of the garden (I. xv), only one is even 
 tangent to the story. The peacock, spreading his 
 tail to woo his mate, suggests to Clitophon a 
 text for the discourse on love's universal do- 
 minion whereby he begins his courtship of Leu- 
 cippe. The garden nowhere else touches the 
 personages or their action ; it is nowise employed 
 as a background ; like the picture of Europa, it is 
 a word-painting, and a word-painting only. 48 
 
 46 Considering the fondness of the Greek Romancers for 
 representing all things to the eye, one is surprised to find 
 them making such small use of Emblems. There are none 
 in Longus. In Heliodorus I recall but one : " What man,'* 
 
174 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 The painting of Philomela (V. iii) though it 
 has some tinge of relevancy in so far as it por- 
 tends disaster from the excursion to Pharos, is 
 none the less irrelevant in the fulness of its 
 detail. The exact position and expression of the 
 figures simply does not matter; it is only the 
 subject, which, as a portent of Leucippe's abduc- 
 tion, counts at all; but Achilles Tatius as usual 
 enjoys playing his tour de force, dwells with 
 gusto upon every particular of the painting — and 
 then proceeds to render the whole description 
 superfluous by telling, in addition, the story of 
 Philomela. One or the other — either the story, 
 or anything more than a bare mention of the 
 subject of the picture — is surplusage. 
 
 Where Achilles Tatius abandons the methods 
 of word-painting, broadens his range of sensuous 
 appeal, employs images of sound and movement, 
 
 says Theagenes, speaking of the race he is about to run, 
 at the goal of which stands Chariclea, " will look on 
 Cariclia, and approch to her so hastily that he can get 
 before me ? to whom can her eies give like wings, as to 
 me, and cause him flie so faste? Know you not, that 
 painters make love with two winges, declaring, as by a 
 Riddle, the nimbleness of those that be in love?" (U ioo, 
 IV. ii). Underdowne duly glosses : " Why Cupide is painted 
 with two wings." Achilles Tatius has a fair sprinkling of 
 Emblems. In Clitophon's dream (I. iii) the woman of 
 dread aspect, holding a sickle in one hand and a sword 
 in the other, is probably emblematic of Fate or of For- 
 tune. At II. iv, Cupid's warlike equipment with bow and 
 quiver, arrows and fire, is said to symbolize a lover's cour- 
 age. Melitta's plea (V. xvi) marshals numerous nautical 
 emblems of marriage. The Byzantine romancers, having 
 had the benefit of mediaeval allegory, are richer in Em- 
 blems. Eustathius, e. g., presents emblematic paintings of 
 the four cardinal virtues — Justice, Temperance, Prudence, 
 and Valor (II. i-vi), and of the twelve months (IV. iv- 
 xviii) at enormous length and irrelevancy. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 75 
 
 and suggests rather than analyzes emotion, he is 
 more successful, as well as more relevant, — for 
 instance, in his description of the ship getting 
 under way (II. xxxii), or of Leucippe's modest 
 dress and bearing when she is about to take 
 the ordeal (VIII. xiii), and in the genre-pictures 
 already noted (ante, p. 161). Forming part of 
 the narrative, and partaking of its movement, 
 these gain at once artistic sanction and artistic 
 vitality. But they are the accidental exceptions. 
 Most of the descriptions in " Clitophon and 
 Leucippe " are of the kind already characterized, 
 — without structural justification on the one 
 hand, and confined on the other hand to a narrow 
 range of stationary visual images foredoomed to 
 tedious ineffectiveness. Examples abound. At 
 I. iv Leucippe is described, and so vaguely that 
 no reader can form the ghost of an idea how 
 she looked ; at I. xix her beauty is compared with 
 that of the peacock and of the garden, just as 
 ineffectively. At II. iii and xi are descriptions — 
 ingenious in themselves but wholly digressive and 
 irrelevant — of a crystal wine-cup, a necklace, and 
 a purple robe, — a propos whereof there are 
 further digressions, upon the discovery of wine 
 and of the uses of the purple fish. The mag- 
 nificent sacrifice conducted by Callisthenes on 
 behalf of the Byzantines (II. xv) — unlike the 
 corresponding ceremonial in Heliodorus (III. 
 i-v; see post, pp. 184-186) — does not combine 
 with the attitude or action of the personages to 
 form a picture, — does not, in a word, serve as 
 background. The statue of Zeus Casius at Pelu- 
 
176 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 sium, and the paintings in his temple — Andro- 
 meda rescued by Perseus, Prometheus rescued by 
 Hercules (III. vi-viii) — are simply dragged in, 
 without even the thin pretext that they suggest 
 conversation. Leucippe's tears, and the mode 
 in which they intensify the beauty of her eyes 
 (VI. vii), afford a passage which "fairly bursts 
 with the pride of word-pictures." 47 To conclude 
 as we began, Achilles Tatius over-elaborates the 
 outwardness of things exactly as we found him 
 over-elaborating their inwardness ; his pictures 
 " hors texte," like his psychology, are the trick of 
 a rhetorician, not the work of an artist. No 
 Lessing has arisen to tell him where lies the 
 strength and where the weakness, respectively, of 
 language and of visual form ; and there is present 
 in him no fine native instinct to keep him, like 
 Longus, on the right side of the boundary. 
 
 Heliodorus is less the rhetorician and more 
 the observer. He possesses a genuine talent for 
 seizing the picturesque aspect of events, and for 
 describing their progress in the form of great 
 spectacles, — spectacles which, involved as they 
 are in the story, are structurally justified. 48 This 
 fondness for the spectacular, while it tends some- 
 what to narrow Heliodorus's sensuous range to 
 images chiefly of sight and movement, 49 at the 
 
 4T Warren, p. 66. 
 
 48 These genuine sensuous descriptions, which are almost 
 always relevant, should be distinguished from his irrele- 
 vant geography, zoology, literary criticism, Homeric dis- 
 cussions, and other non-sensuous digressive matter. 
 
 49 Longus employs the whole gamut, — form, color, move- 
 ment, sound, smell, touch, taste, etc. ; Achilles Tatius rather 
 neglects smell, touch and taste; Heliodorus is narrower 
 than either. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 77 
 
 same time saves him from mere e/ecfypacn*;. In all 
 its great length, the "^Ethiopica " contains only 
 one set and irrelevant description — that of the 
 carved amethyst (V. xiii, xiv) given by Calasiris 
 to Nausicles as a ransom for Chariclea ; and it 
 contains no description at all of painting or sculp- 
 ture. Even where such a description would have 
 been wholly relevant, perhaps desirable, — as in 
 the case of the painting of Andromeda which 
 made so much trouble, — Heliodorus seems not to 
 be so much as tempted. He " doesn't even hesi- 
 tate" ; he goes right on with the story (IV. viii; 
 X. xiv-xv). 
 
 His strong inclination to notice the visual side 
 of things gets satisfaction in other ways. Not 
 content, for instance, with telling how a thing- 
 looks, he tells also how the people who look at it 
 look, how they open and close their eyes, shift 
 their gaze from one point to another, and are 
 affected in appearance by what they see. He is 
 fond of describing persons, objects and actions 
 by means of the impression they make upon some 
 observer, whose changes of countenance he de- 
 scribes in turn. This habit of treating the world 
 of sight by way of its effect upon people is 
 closely parallel to the method already noted 
 (ante, pp. 144-145) of treating the world of 
 thought and feeling by way of iraOos ; — the effort 
 in each case being to represent not the thing 
 itself, but that which the thing makes somebody 
 feel. Heliodorus's pathetic optics — if I may so 
 name the mannerism — strikes the reader at the 
 very beginning of the "iEthiopica," dominating 
 
 13 
 
178 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 as it does the whole of the first two chapters. 
 The brigands look at the sea, and then turn to 
 scrutinize the shore ; there they behold the pirate 
 ship and the dead bodies of the pirates, slain 
 feasting ; they are astonished and stupefied at the 
 incomprehensible sight. Soon they discern 
 Chariclea tending the wounds of Theagenes ; but 
 her eyes, cast upon him, see them not; while 
 his eyelids, drooping in his exhaustion, still per- 
 mit his gaze to be drawn to her. She rises, her 
 quiver of arrows clanging, her hair unbound, her 
 robe shining in the sun; and the brigands are 
 terrified at this apparition of a supposed goddess. 
 Now she embraces Theagenes, and this action, 
 observed by the brigands, proves her mortal; 
 they approach ; their shadow falls within her field 
 to vision; she looks up, — and so on. Verbs of 
 seeing, verbs indicating the effects of sight, are 
 surprisingly numerous. The effect occurs again 
 and again. These brigands, like the band under 
 Thyamis, and like Thyamis himself, are awe- 
 struck by the beauty of Theagenes and Chariclea 
 (I. iii, iv) ; so are the troops of Mithranes (V. 
 vii). When Chariclea, unaware of the pres- 
 ence of Calasiris and Cnemon at the house of 
 Nausicles, is brought before them, " she looked 
 up a little, and contrary to her expectation she 
 saw and was seene, so that they all three began 
 to cry out, and howle suddenly, as if there had 
 beene a token geeven them when they should 
 have begun" (U 132). The sentiment revealed 
 in Theagenes and Chariclea's changes of coun- 
 tenance as they both fall in love at the moment 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 79 
 
 of his receiving the torch from her (TIL v) ; 
 Theagenes's unsuccessful efforts to conceal his 
 emotion from his guests (III. x, xi) ; Chariclea's 
 involuntary bodily movements and changes of 
 countenance as she follows with her eye the race 
 between Theagenes and Ormenus (IV. iii) — 
 these and much more of the same sort 50 are 
 on the border between description and character- 
 ization ; they belong as much to the one world 
 as to the other,— and in both are conveyed 
 through 7ra#o?. 
 
 One " effect," at once pathetic and spectacular, 
 occurs so often in the "^Ethiopica " that it seems 
 to deserve special notice. I mean what may be 
 called "hieratic epiphany." The disguised and 
 wandering sun-god in old myths is from time to 
 time made manifest, confounding his enemies and 
 rejoicing his worshippers; and finally, his trials 
 done, throws off his disguise for good and all, 
 and reveals himself in splendor. So it is with 
 the wandering hero, who, returning in beggar's 
 weeds upon Apollo's holy day — the day of the 
 New Moon after the winter solstice — stands 
 forth from his rags, and smites his enemies with 
 arrows inevitable as the arrows of the Far-Darter 
 himself. 51 And so it is, too, with the wandering 
 priest and priestess of the sun, likewise disguised 
 as beggars and pilgrims, who yet from time to 
 
 50 " A description of Theagenes " (VII. x) ; the sight of 
 Theagenes inflames Arsace (VII. iv, vi) ; Theagenes' grace 
 in waiting at table further inflames Arsace (VII. xxvn) ; 
 Meroebus blushes through his black skin (X. xxiv) ; Per- 
 sina is moved to compassion at the sight of her daughter's 
 youth, beauty, and fortitude (X. vii), etc. 
 
 61 Schwartz, " Fiinf Vortrage," pp. i7-*9- 
 
iSo THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 time show themselves for what they are, and 
 strike the beholders with admiration, awe, pity or 
 fear. No less than six times does Heliodorus 
 make use of this hieratic epiphany. Chariclea 
 at the Delphic games in honor of Pyrrhus shines 
 in full priestly array, with sacred robe and laurel 
 crown, quiver and torch (III. iv) ; again with 
 these attributes of Artemis she appears to the 
 brigands, a very goddess (I. ii) ; ceremonially 
 robed for the bridal, she captivates Pelorus (V. 
 xxxi) ; condemned to the stake by Arsace, she 
 leaps lightly into the flames, which, retreating 
 from her on all sides, only illuminate and enhance 
 her radiant beauty, — so that the people cry out at 
 the miracle, and are moved to rescue her (VIII. 
 ix). Her ordeal upon the fiery altar (X. ix) is 
 still more pathetic, and hieratic, and spectacular. 
 " Shee tarried not, till they commanded her . . , 
 but put uppon her the holy garment, that she 
 brought from Delphi, . . . wrought with golde, 
 and other costly juelles, 52 and when shee had cast 
 her haire abroade, like one taken with divine 
 furie, ranne and leapt into the fire, and stood 
 there a great while without harme, and her 
 beauty then appeared a great deal more, so that 
 every man looked upon her, and by reason of her 
 stoale thought her more like a Goddesse, than a 
 mortal woman. Thereat was every man amazed, 
 and muttered sore. . . . But Persina above all 
 other was most sorrowfull ..." (U265). The 
 scene containing the sixth instance, in which not 
 only Chariclea, but Calasiris also, is revealed, is 
 
 62 A mistranslation. The Greek means " wrought with 
 gold and with rays of scarlet." 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION l8l 
 
 so notable in other respects as well, that I reserve 
 it for fuller discussion. 53 
 
 It has been remarked (ante, pp. i7^~ l 77) that 
 in Heliodorus the spectacular is relevant. The 
 description is part of the story, the ornament is 
 structural, the plot and the setting belong to each 
 other. That which moves the plot, then,— Provi- 
 dence or the sudden stroke of Fortune— is also 
 the producer of the spectacles, the w^o?, as it 
 were. In fact, this conception of the gods and 
 fortune as makers of spectacles, as playwrights, 
 in a word, does vitally affect the "iEthiopica." 
 For Heliodorus, all the world's a stage, and the 
 events in which his men and women play their 
 parts constitute a drama, with its technical ap- 
 paratus of prologue and epilogue, recognition and 
 climax, main plot and episodes, " love-interest,' 
 " machines " and scenery ;— a drama not lacking 
 spectators, either; for, as has been seen, many 
 of the scenes are set forth "pathetically," by way 
 of their effect upon witnesses. Of this theatrical 
 envisagement of situation, and of this employ- 
 ment of theatrical terminology, a few examples 
 must suffice. 54 Theagenes advising surrender to 
 Mithranes's troops, exclaims: "Why do we not 
 cut short the tragic poem of this divinity that 
 persecutes us? . . . lest, by planning an intoler- 
 able end of our play, he force us to suicide" (V. 
 vi). At Cnemon's wedding, Chariclea laments: 
 
 ™Post, p. 187 ff. - '. , , .. 
 
 «* The passages are collected, and discussed from the 
 point of view of linguistics and archaeology, by J. W. H. 
 Walden " Stage Terms in Heliodorus's yEthiopica {Har- 
 vard Studies in Classical Philology, 1894, Vol. 5, PP- i-43). 
 
lS2 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 "Ye (gods) have drawn out our drama without 
 end, — beyond all other dramas" (VI. viii). The 
 sudden capture of Theagenes and Chariclea by 
 the Ethiopians is spoken of by Heliodorus as 
 "the prologue and first scene of a play, as it 
 were" (wairep ev Spd/jLan irpoava^djvrja^ fcai 
 irpoeiaohiov, IX. xvii). The unexpected meeting 
 and recognition of Chariclea, Calasiris and Cne- 
 mon is wondered at by Nausicles as a KaOdirep 
 eVl <r/cr)vr]S avayvaypLapLos, (V. xi). Cnemon re- 
 calls Calasiris to the point by the impatient re- 
 mark, "You have introduced an episode foreign 
 to your main action " ( y JL7reccr68iov Sr) tovto ovSeu 
 7r/3o? tov Alovvctov eVeKJ/cf /cX^cra?, II. xxiv). The 
 surprising presence of Thisbe's body in Egypt, 
 far from Athens, where she was supposed to be 
 (II. viii), and the surprising appearance of 
 Chariclea before Hydaspes with the claim to be 
 his daughter (X. xii), are recognized as coups 
 de theatre: they are said to come about "as if 
 by the machinery of the stage " {KaQdirep ifc 
 fi7]%avris • wairep eVt a/cr}vr)$ • ■ • fcal olov etc fir]- 
 %avr)<i avafyaivovaa) . Scenic envisagement of 
 the background appears in Cnemon's complaint 
 that Calasiris is omitting the details of the pomp 
 at Delphi: "You have but opened the theatre, 
 and straight shut it up againe " (U 79; III. i). 
 The denouement is conceived most theatrically, 
 if not dramatically. The spectators of the final 
 scene, says Heliodorus, though some were too 
 far away to witness all its details, nevertheless 
 rejoiced ; some divine impulse perchance enabling 
 them to understand its purport, — the same divine 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 83 
 
 impulse which had composed the play itself 
 (7} Ta^a real i £ opfJLrjs deias 77 crv/JL7ravTa ravr io-fcrj- 
 voypd<j>r)o-ev, et? iirivoiav rcov a\r]6(bv e\#oWe?, 
 X. xxxviii). The gods, likewise, have declared 
 Chariclea to be Hydaspes' daughter, have brought 
 her foster-father Charicles thither from Greece, 
 as if ex machina, and have plainly designated 
 the strange youth to be her bridegroom: such is 
 the consummation of their favors, and the finale 
 of the drama, (ol 6eol • • • ttjv iravoXfiiov Xapt- 
 icXeiav ■ • • goi dvyarepa avaheitavres , kcl\ top 
 TavTT}? rpocpea fcaOdirep ifc p-rj^avrj^ eV fiear]? ttj? 
 'EAAaSo? ivTavO' avaTre/xyjravTe^ • • ■ vvv ttjv 
 KOp(ovlha tcov ayaO&v /cal wcnrep \afi7rd810v 
 Spdfiaros rbv vv/jl(J)LOv Trjs KoprjS tovtovi top %evov 
 veaviav avacpr/vavTes, X. xxxix.) With a single 
 exception, soon to be noticed, this scene exhibits 
 more strikingly than any other Heliodorus's con- 
 ception of his Romance as a series of theatrical 
 spectacles arranged by superhuman agency. 55 
 
 58 In Achilles Tatius this conception is much less promi- 
 nent, is applied rather to incidents than to the action as a 
 whole, and, as might have been expected, is transferred 
 from the gods to fortune, vpxero rod Spd/xaros 17 tvxv (I. iii). 
 'E/wi 5£ i) <tvvt)6t]S tvxv irdXiv kiriTiQzTai teal avvrlderai tear ' ifiov 
 8pdfjux Kauvbv (VI. iii). Skilled courtship is likened to play- 
 acting (I. x) ; so is the plausible story Melitta tells her 
 husband (VI. x) ; Leucippe considers herself as acting a 
 part under her pseudonym " Lacaena " (VI. xvi) ; Ther- 
 sander's advocate slurs the oration of the priest as a piece 
 of histrionics. On the other hand, it has been observed 
 (ante, pp. 154-155, 157, 160-161) that Achilles Tatius, with- 
 out saying so, often treats his situations like scenes in real- 
 istic comedy. Longus, as already pointed out (ante, p. 122), 
 uses once the apparatus of tragedy — a series of rumors and 
 messages (III. xxxi ; IV. i, v, ix) ; and once, where Daphnis 
 puts his goats through a musical drill, says that he arranged 
 the spectators ftairep diarpov. 
 
184 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Enlarge the scale of Heliodorus's " pathetic 
 optics"; magnify the place; increase the number 
 of persons enacting or witnessing the coup de 
 theatre, — the number of persons taking part in 
 the spectacle or moved by the "hieratic epiph- 
 any;" and you have those great ensemble 
 scenes with which he delights to mark the chief 
 points in his action. Of these, four may be 
 noted ; the beginning of the adventure, at Delphi 
 (III. i-iv; IV. i-iv) ; the first turn of fortune 
 towards evil, in the capture by pirates (V. xxvi) ; 
 the turn of fortune toward good, in the scene of 
 reunion at Memphis (VII. v-viii) ; and the 
 happy ending. It is upon such scenes that 
 Heliodorus lavishes his talent for visual descrip- 
 tion — a talent working there at its best, in the 
 grandiose manner that is appropriate to the scene 
 and characteristic of Heliodorus. — Calasiris is 
 about to pass briefly over the ceremonies at 
 Delphi: "After the Pompe and Funerall was 
 ended — : Nay Father (quoth Cnemon interrupt- 
 ing him) it is not done yet, seeing your talke 
 hath not made mee also looke thereon . . . who 
 desire wonderfully to behold the whole order 
 thereof" (U. 79). Accordingly Calasiris de- 
 scribes in detail the first part of the procession, — 
 the hecatombs of oxen, the flocks of other vic- 
 tims, the lesser ministers of Apollo in attendance, 
 the maidens dancing with baskets of fruit and 
 flowers, and vases of perfumes and conserves; 
 and the second part, consisting of the singers of 
 the Hymn to Thetis. He then proceeds, deliber- 
 ately conscious of sensuous effect : " The dance 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 85 
 
 which accompanied this song was so well adapted 
 to it, and the cadence of their steps agreed so 
 exactly with the melody . . . that for awhile, in 
 spite of the magnificence of the spectacle, the 
 sense of seeing was overpowered and suspended 
 by that of hearing. ... At length a band of 
 youths on horseback, with their splendidly 
 dressed commander, . . . afforded a spectacle 
 far preferable to any sounds" (III. iii; B 64). 
 The spectacle is that of Theagenes's escort, whose 
 dress, mounts and accoutrements are minutely 
 described. Theagenes follows. — " . . . He was 
 on horseback also, with a speare of Ashe poynted 
 with Steele in his hands, he had no helmet on, 
 but was bare headed. His cloke was of Purple 
 wrought with Golde, wherein was the battell of 
 the Centaures and Lapithes : on the button of his 
 cloke was Pallas pictured, bearing a shielde be- 
 fore her breast, wherein was Gorgons head. The 
 comelines and commendation of that which was 
 done, was some what increased by the easie blow- 
 ing of the winde, which mooved his haire about 
 his necke, parting it before his forhead, and made 
 his cloake wave, and the nether parts thereof 
 to cover the back and buttocks of his horse. You 
 would have sayde that hys horse did knowe the 
 beautie of his master, and that he beeing very 
 faire him selfe, did beare a passing seemely man, 
 he rayned so, and with pricked up eares he tossed 
 his head and rolled his eyes fiercelie, and 
 praunced, and leapt in so fine sort. When he 
 had the raynes a little at will, he would set for- 
 ward couragiously, and turne about on both sides, 
 
1 86 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 and beat the ground with the tippes of his houfes 
 lightly, and moderate his fiercenes with the pleas- 
 auntnesse of his pace" (U 81-2). Nor is the 
 effect upon the spectators forgotten: the men 
 praise Theagenes, the women pelt him with 
 apples and flowers. And now appears Chariclea, 
 described with the same particularity, — more 
 beautiful even than Theagenes, — her eyes shin- 
 ing with greater splendor than that of the sacred 
 torch she bears. This torch she presents to 
 Theagenes : — at that moment their eyes meet, and 
 they love. The background is magnificent, — the 
 temple of Apollo, with a vast assemblage in splen- 
 did attire solemnly grouped around the altar; 
 while at the altar, the centre of all eyes, are the 
 pair of young lovers, hieratic, beautiful. No 
 wonder that Raphael is supposed to have painted 
 this scene (III. iv, v). Again at the race (IV. 
 iii, iv) we have the same pictorial "composi- 
 tion " : a monumental background of architec- 
 ture; a throng of spectators symmetrically dis- 
 posed about the amphitheatre ; and again, now 
 in the arena, the two or three central figures: 
 " Chariclea glistered at the race ende ... in her 
 left hand she had a burning taper, and in the 
 other a branche of palme, and as soone as she 
 appeared, every man looked upon her. . . . After 
 they had run the middle of the race . . . (The- 
 agenes) turned him a little about, and frowning 
 upon Ormenus, lifted up his shield aloft, and 
 stretched out his necke, and with face fast fixed 
 uppon Cariclia, at last he got to the race end, 
 and start so farre before, that the Archadian 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1S7 
 
 was many yardes behinde" (U 99, 101). The 
 scene of the capture by pirates, where Chariclea 
 embraces the pirate's knees, pleading for the life 
 of Calasiris and Theagenes (V. xxvi), is also 
 said to have been painted by Raphael. Here too 
 there is a large and various background — two 
 ships grappled; two crews, one victorious, one 
 defeated; and, as before, the group of two in 
 the centre, now with a subsidiary pair besides. 56 
 
 The closing passages of the story — the ordeals 
 before the King, Queen, priesthood and people 
 of Ethiopia in solemn assembly; the procession 
 of embassadors bearing rich gifts ; the wrestlings- 
 bout of Theagenes with " the Duke's champion," 
 and his wonderful feat of driving the horse and 
 the bull together and felling the bull ; the sudden 
 appearance of Charicles to resolve the complica- 
 tion; the mystic pomp and trionfo with which 
 all ends — these likewise afford many spectacles 
 of dignity and splendor, involving an ample scenic 
 background, and a great multitude to be touched 
 and moved. 
 
 But even these great scenes, rich and various 
 as they are, do not sum up and blend so many of 
 the characteristics of Heliodorus as does the 
 scene of recognition, reunion and reconciliation 
 under the walls of Memphis (VII. v-viii), — a 
 scene which in structure, function, and ornament 
 is the most representative passage of the "yEthio- 
 
 68 Concerning the tradition that Raphael painted these 
 scenes, I can only say, with Wilson (Dunlop, " Hist, of 
 Fiction," I. 36, note) and Oeftering (p. 167), that I have 
 found no confirmation of it, or indication of the where- 
 abouts of the paintings. 
 
1 88 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 pica." The situation is notably structural. It 
 marks and effects the transition from one main 
 set of misadventures — those caused by storms, 
 pirates and brigands, — to the other main set — 
 those due to intrigue and illicit passion. 57 This 
 transition it accomplishes, first by inserting be- 
 tween the two sets of misadventures a moment 
 of good fortune, wherein persons separated are 
 reunited and persons at odds are reconciled ; and 
 secondly by giving occasion both to drop the sub- 
 sidiary persons involved in the first set (Calasiris, 
 who dies immediately afterward, and Thyamis, 
 who takes no further part in the action), and to 
 introduce the subsidiary persons ( Arsace, Cybele, 
 etc.) involved in the second set. Structural it is 
 moreover in the sense that it is directly controlled 
 by the forces that are at work to move the re- 
 mainder of the plot. The arrival of Calasiris, 
 sudden and surprising though it be, comes never- 
 theless in fulfilment of an oracle and of a necro- 
 mantic prophecy. At the same time it is not out- 
 side the course of Nature; he is brought to the 
 scene by following the adventures of Theagenes 
 and Chariclea, who came into his life in conse- 
 quence of his retreat to Delphi. So that we have 
 the combination which Aristotle commends, of 
 the unexpected with the caused; and we have it 
 expressly ascribed to Fortune working under 
 Providence (ante, p. 116). Furthermore, inCal- 
 asiris's revelation of himself to his sons, and 
 Chariclea's revelation of herself to Theagenes, 
 
 w As for the danger of being sacrificed by the Ethiopians, 
 I count that out for the present purpose, as being — struc- 
 turally speaking — only the " moment " of last suspense. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 89 
 
 we have a double " hieratic epiphany " ; Calasiris 
 drops his disguise of rags, and stands forth in his 
 priestly robe ; Chariclea speaks the word Pythius, 
 and reminds Theagenes of her sacred torch. — 
 Again, the whole passage is avowedly theatrical : 
 the spectators on the walls are likened to the spec- 
 tators at a play ; the arrival of Calasiris is likened 
 to that of an actor ex machina, and is termed 
 " an episode," or " the beginning of a rival ac- 
 tion" — (viz., an action rivaling in interest the 
 fight between the brothers) ; Chariclea's entrance 
 is " a new interlude " ; her encounter with Thea- 
 genes, "the love interest of the play"; several 
 recognitions are involved; and the conclusion is 
 that " the tragedy, which threatened bloodshed, 
 had passed into a comedy." Spectacular the sit- 
 uation is too, and most grandiose and " pathetic." 
 The scene of action is no less than the whole 
 exterior of a city, its walls and gateways thronged 
 with people, — and the plain below, where, against 
 this monumental background, the five protago- 
 nists move in shifting groups. Meanwhile, Ar- 
 sace feeds her eyes and her passion upon the 
 beauty of Theagenes; the spectators now laugh 
 at the futility of Calasiris's interference, now 
 "stand like pictures," and now are "overcome 
 with wonder " ; and at the end, spontaneously, 
 they form a Trionfo, with torches, and pipes and 
 flutes, marching in pomp to the Temple of Isis. 
 This is Heliodorus at his best, at his most char- 
 acteristic: spectacular, optical, "pathetic," theat- 
 rical, hieratic, grandiose. 
 
 But even at his best, Heliodorus inevitably and 
 
190 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 painfully reminds us of the fundamental vice of 
 the Greek Romancers, — their fatal lack of spirit- 
 uality. Most spiritually minded of them all, con- 
 ceiving his theme in something like the grand 
 manner, with some attempt at breadth and no- 
 bility, he yet commits himself, like the rest, to 
 the task — not of spiritualizing the world of sense 
 by interpreting it in terms of character and divine 
 destiny, — but of making character and divine des- 
 tiny minister to the pleasures of the world of 
 sense. For him, the gods, and human excellence 
 as well, are producers of spectacles. One last 
 illustration will suffice, and will close this discus- 
 sion. There are three scenes, one in Longus, one 
 in Achilles Tatius, one in Heliodorus, so much 
 alike that they almost seem to represent a con- 
 vention of the genre. Daphnis escapes drowning, 
 and triumphantly half-swims, half-rides ashore 
 suported on the horns of two of his cattle, "as 
 in a chariot" (I. xxx). Clinias upon a yard gal- 
 lantly rides the waves, and as he is driven near 
 Clitophon and Leucippe cries out, " Hold fast, 
 Clitophon!" (III. v). Theagenes having felled 
 the bull "lay upon him, and with his left hand 
 held him downe, but lifted his right hand up to 
 heaven, and looked merrilie upon Hydaspes and 
 all that were there els, who laughed, and were 
 much delighted with that sight, and they heard 
 that the Bull with his lowing declared the famous- 
 ness of the victorie, as wel as if it had been 
 declared with a trumpet" (U 281^2; X. xxx). 
 In all these scenes the young man by his own 
 efforts triumphs over physical danger, — indeed is 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 191 
 
 placed visibly over the thing he conquers, and in 
 manifest control of it; and he is free from any 
 sign of fear, — nay in two cases shows a smiling 
 nonchalance. The heroism of Theagenes is fur- 
 ther enhanced by the fact that he himself seeks 
 the danger, having undertaken this feat of his 
 own motion; and by the fact that he is actually 
 awaiting death at the time, but can yet muster 
 up courage to make so brave a show. — What, 
 then, does this valor, this virtus, amount to? 
 What, in the hero's supreme hour, is this final 
 manifestation of his excellence? Why, a mere 
 piece of theatricals ; a bit of spectacular heroics ; 
 a mountebank's feat; a trick of the arena, per- 
 formed by an animal-tamer " to make a Roman 
 holiday." And this at the end of the most spir- 
 itual of the Greek Romances ! Finally, it is note- 
 worthy that this passage, like all the other great 
 spectacular passages lately cited, signifies as much 
 for plot and for character as for setting. The 
 wheel has come full circle: plot, character, set- 
 ting, — what was found true of one is found true 
 of all; and what is found true of all in Helio- 
 dorus is found true of all, a fortiori, in Longus 
 and Achilles Tatius. " Wahn, Wahn, iiberall 
 Wahn!" One and all they subject the spirit to 
 the sense; one and all they minister to the lust 
 and pride of the eye; one and all they rest in a 
 world of sound and show, — sunk in matter, and 
 "bound upon the Wheel of Things." Not until 
 the Renaissance revives their influence does there 
 again appear so striking a specimen of the world's 
 literature of illusion. 
 
193 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Such is the content of the Greek Romances, 
 such their matter, — conveniently set forth as 
 Plot, Character, and Setting. And as these three 
 are often indivisible, — for example in the spec- 
 tacular scenes just now noticed, — so are Struc- 
 ture and Style in large part inseparable from 
 them and from each other. Yet it will be con- 
 venient to make the division: to speak of the 
 form of these Romances apart from their matter 
 or content just expounded, and to treat this form 
 under its separate aspects of Structure and Style. 
 Always, though, the endeavor will be to show 
 how all these are connected rather than disjoined; 
 to show, more especially, how they are all refer- 
 able to the common characteristics of the genre or 
 to the particular author's conception of his work. 
 
 Heliodorus, conceiving his Romance as a prose 
 epic, 58 constructs it upon the approved epic plan. 
 He takes the reader at once in medias res, at a 
 point where the action has already become com- 
 plicated, and lets it explicate itself gradually 
 through the speech of the personages. "Action 
 first, explanation afterwards " is his device to 
 maintain interest. This narrative structure has 
 been much commended; 59 and it would indeed 
 deserve all praise were it carried out with any 
 sort of moderation, and were Theagenes and 
 Chariclea so characterized at the beginning as to 
 make the reader willing to keep his interest on a 
 continual strain until he shall find out their pre- 
 
 58 Cf. p. 157, ante. 
 
 99 See citations at Oeftering, 21-22. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 193 
 
 vious history. In " A Tale of Two Cities "—to 
 take an illustration per contra — the full chain of 
 causes that make the beginning of the story is not 
 revealed until within a few pages of the end (by 
 Dr. Manette's prison-diary, read at the trial of 
 Darnay) ; thus the suspense is maintained still 
 longer than in the "^thiopica " ; yet the reader 
 is kept engaged, because the personages have been 
 made intrinsically interesting from the first. Not 
 so the personages of the "^thiopica."— Nor has 
 Heliodorus kept measure in the execution of his 
 involved plan. Calasiris " tells the story of his 
 life" — which includes the adventures of Thea- 
 genes and Chariclea previous to the opening 
 scene— not only at disproportionate length, but 
 under unjustifiable interruptions. Cnemon's story 
 
 itself only an episode — likewise comes out 
 
 piecemeal. Neither is finished at a sitting, like 
 Aeneas's narrative to Dido, or Odysseus's to the 
 Phaeacians ; 60 and between the several instal- 
 ments there intervene events contemporary with 
 the telling: the arrival of Nausicles, the arrival of 
 Chariclea, her lamentations, Cnemon's fright, etc., 
 which put the reader to a strain not warranted by 
 his interest. Cnemon's story is even interlaced 
 with Calasiris's; and the reader must forborne 
 time, like a juggler keeping three oranges in the 
 air at once, bear in mind three distinct and non- 
 
 00 To be sure, Odysseus's preliminary account, of how he 
 had been cast ashore and had met Nausicaa, is separated 
 from the body of his narrative; but these events, being 
 known to the reader, are merely recapitulated, and involve 
 no strain of attention. 
 
 H 
 
194 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 coordinate 61 lines of narrative: — the events act- 
 ually current; Calasiris's story still unfinished; 
 and Cnemon's story still unfinished (V. ii, VI. 
 ii) . Here again we have an effect of Heliodorus's 
 peculiar conception of his work — this time an 
 effect of his theatrical conception of it. 62 He 
 applies to his narrative, already complex enough, 
 the technique of the stage. He will tell as little 
 as possible ; he declines the role of the omniscient 
 novelist speaking of his men and women in the 
 third person; they must do their own talking. 
 Hence, let the continuity of the tale suffer as it 
 will, nobody is known till he actually appears on 
 the scene; nobody's appearance is prepared for; 
 and each person when he does appear must tell 
 in the first person " the story of his life." So far 
 does Heliodorus carry this inappropriate dramatic 
 method that at one time (II. xxx-xxxii) there is 
 a fourfold involution of the narrative: (i) Cala- 
 siris and Cnemon being at Chemmis in the course 
 of the current narrative, (2) Calasiris quotes to 
 Cnemon what (3) Charicles at Delphi quoted to 
 him (Calasiris) as having been (4) said to him 
 (Charicles) by Sisimithres at Catadupi! A nest 
 of boxes — " cycle and epicycle, orb in orb." 
 This mixture of methods epic and dramatic has 
 
 61 There is no undue strain involved in following several 
 coordinate threads of a plot, — e. g., the several adventures 
 of different persons or groups. But this is not the task 
 here ; the stories of Cnemon and of Calasiris are both sub- 
 ordinate to the current story ; they both constitute a pre- 
 vious part of it ; they both are needed to account for it ; 
 and so should no more be mingled with it than cause 
 should be mingled with effect. 
 
 *" Cf. ante, pp. 157, 181-184. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 95 
 
 several further results. In the first place, while it 
 complicates the pattern, it renders the fabric 
 sleazy, open-meshed, and, here and there, discontin- 
 uous. An author who loses sight of his personages 
 for five books at a time would be extraordinary if 
 he did not sometimes forget the circumstances in 
 which he left them. There are several such " loose 
 threads " in the "^Ethiopica." 63 Moreover, its 
 time-scheme is excessively obscure. The reader 
 is glad if he can realize that X, which is told long 
 chapters after Y, actually occurred before it; 
 content if he can keep time-sequence clear, he 
 allows himself a general uninquiring sense of 
 obscurity about time-length. Analysis might in- 
 deed show that the chronology is quite consistent : 
 the point is, that the reader is left with the feel- 
 ing that it is not. Again, this open-work fabric 
 leaves room, in its wide meshes, for the insertion 
 of every kind of irrelevancy. The main story of 
 the "JEthiopica," for fully half its course, is de- 
 graded to the level of a " frame-tale," and made 
 to enclose the incidental novella of Cnemon, the 
 narratives, wheel within wheel, of Calasiris, Char- 
 icles, and Sisimithres, and innumerable fragments 
 of pseudo-science, geography, and apocryphal 
 literary history and criticism: a disquisition on 
 the evil eye (U 86-87; HI- vii-viii),on the white 
 and black magic of the Egyptians (U 92; III. 
 
 63 At I. xxxii, Thyamis is taken prisoner; at VI. iii, he 
 is reported to be heading a band of insurgents. There is 
 no account of what happened between. At I. xxx-xxxi, he 
 supposes that he has killed Chariclea ; at VII. vii ff, he 
 meets her without surprise. (Pointed out, among other 
 " loose threads," by Walden, i n. 2.) 
 
I96 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 xvi), on the inundation of the Nile (U 68-9; II. 
 xxviii) ; "A rule of Homer, how to knowe the 
 gods: expounded by Calasiris" (U 90; III. xii- 
 xiii) ; "A pretty discourse, whereby Calasiris 
 proveth Homer to be an Egyptian" (U 91; III. 
 xiv) and other " Prettie Heathenish questions." 
 This irrelevancy is so characteristic of the Greek 
 Romance as a genre, that though touched upon 
 before, it must be returned to again and again. 
 In actual bulk, probably not less than a quarter 
 of the "iEthiopica " consists either of matters 
 irrelevant, or of matters relevant unduly ex- 
 panded. 64 Finally, Heliodorus's narrative struc- 
 
 94 Relevant matter unduly expanded : The lengthy ac- 
 counts of Hydaspes' siege of Syene and battle with Oroon- 
 dates, which occupy the whole of Book IX, and give color 
 to the " legend that in the sixteenth century it (the 
 '^thiopica ') was gravely considered a handbook of tac- 
 tics " (Whibley, Introd., p. xiv). " The oration of Thyamis 
 to his mates . . . (containing) the duetie of a good Cap- 
 taine. . . . Three things worth noting and following in 
 choice of a wife" (U 29-30 Glosses). "The oration of 
 Thyamis . . . (showing) How warre with theeves is ended " 
 (U 37 do.). " Calasiris dissembled oration " (to the Del- 
 phians) (U 117, 18 do.); " Caricles pitifull oration about 
 the taking away of Cariclia " (U 118 do.) ; " Hegesias Ora- 
 tion as touching the pursuite of those who tooke away 
 Cariclia. Occasion is of most force in warre" (U 119 
 do.). " Cariclia's pittiful complaint being separated from 
 Theagenes " (U 125 do.) ; "The sorrowe that Cariclia was 
 in, at Cnemon his marriage" (U 163 do.). "A wise ora- 
 tion of a gentle man of Syene" (U 238 do.). "The 
 oration of Hydaspes souldiers . . . wherein Hydaspes is 
 commended for all the vertues requisite or needful for a 
 King" (U 238 do.). "Great matters may not be sleightly 
 handled, and here is a passing witty conference betweene 
 Theagenes and Cariclia" (U 253 do.). "A pretty commu- 
 nication between Hydaspes and Oroondates " (U 250 do.). 
 " All the oration of Hydaspes, declareth what is the dutie 
 of a good King " (U 272 do.). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 97 
 
 ture lends itself to dramatic retardation: the 
 story, as has been said, comes out in driblets; 
 between any two portions concerning any given 
 interest there are likely to be interpolated half a 
 dozen other portions concerning other interests; 
 so that, besides an effect of pleasurable suspense, 65 
 
 The episode of the sojourn with Tyrrhenus (V. xviii- 
 xxii) is relevant ; not so Tyrrhenus's deafness, and his 
 conversation at cross-purposes with Calasiris. The char- 
 acter of Tyrrhenus is not worked out with this deafness as 
 an element in it, or indeed worked out at all ; nor does 
 anything happen in the plot because of this deafness, or 
 because of the conversation at cross-purposes (U 137-8; 
 V. xviii). In the same way, when Calasiris, Nausicles and 
 Cnemon leave Chemmis to seek Theagenes (VI. iii-iv), 
 and Heliodorus needs somebody to tell them that Mithranes 
 has moved toward Bessa, he creates for the purpose a 
 nameless acquaintance of Nausicles ; but, not contented with 
 letting him tell his news, weaves an irrelevant episode 
 about him : makes him out to be in love with one Isias, 
 an exacting mistress, at whose behest he is taking to her 
 a " Phoenicopter." About this there ensues a bit of rally- 
 ing conversation ; the nameless lover says what the author 
 created him to say, and is then absolutely dropped, and 
 never heard of again. Episodes engaging in themselves, 
 and exhibiting much the same sort of creative profusion 
 as Dickens exhibits when he creates and throws away 
 (" David Copperfield," ch. I) the woman who bought 
 David's caul. 
 
 68 " II lasciar l'auditore sospeso procedendo dal confuso 
 al distinto, dall' universale a' particolari . . . e una delle 
 cagioni che fa piacer tanto Eliodoro." T. Tasso, Opere, X, 
 103, ed. Venez. (So quoted and cited by Jacobs, Einleitung 
 to his translation of the "^Ethiopica.") 
 
 Artistic suspense : — At the race at Delphi, says Calasiris, 
 " ' the spectators were on the very tiptoe of expectation, 
 and full of solicitude for the issue ; and I more than all. 
 . . .' 'No wonder,' said Cnemon, ' that those present were 
 in an agony of expectation, when I, even now, am trem- 
 bling for Theagenes. Deliver me, therefore, I beseech you, 
 as soon as you can, out of my suspense ' " (B 81 ; IV. iii). 
 Here the reader's suspense is heightened both by the inter- 
 ruption itself, which delays the telling of the outcome, *nd 
 
198 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the reader is quite likely to feel an effect of dis- 
 traction and irritation anything but pleasurable. 
 He grows impatient for the event ; but no : " Der 
 Vorhang [wird] erst nach und nach weiter auf- 
 gezogen und das voile Geheimnis erst am Ende 
 enthullt." 66 The end is in fact the most provok- 
 ing example of this retarding policy. We know 
 that all's bound to come out right; yet we must 
 first undergo Chariclea's circumlocutions and ter- 
 giversations, next be distracted by the reception 
 of the ambassadors, then be distracted again by 
 Theagenes's gladiatorial exhibition, and finally 
 suffer the knot to be untied, not by Chariclea's 
 explanation at all, but by the totally unexpected 
 arrival of Charicles. Involution, complication, 
 interruption of the story, insertion of matter 
 irrelevant, episodic, or unduly expanded, retarda- 
 tion, suspense, and cheap surprise — all, it seems, 
 are of a piece; all are the natural results of a 
 narrative method that is overstrained and vitiated 
 by the desire for alien effects. 67 
 
 by the content of the interruption — Cnemon's own sus- 
 pense. The effect is made possible by Heliodorus's dra- 
 matic method, of having the event related to a hearer. 
 
 09 Christ, p. 848. 
 
 6T Among the effects of dramatic technique upon Helio- 
 dorus's narrative method there should perhaps be reckoned 
 the employment of the confidant. The functions of this 
 personage — to take the place of the Chorus in commenting 
 and moralizing the action ; to take the place of monologue 
 in enabling the hero to free his mind ; to explain an open- 
 ing situation, or in general t<x e£w rijs Tpayydias, or in par- 
 ticular whatever has happened to the confidant and his 
 interlocutor before their present meeting ; to support the 
 hero in affliction and dissuade him from suicide ; — these 
 functions are in the "^thiopica " performed for the most 
 part by Calasiris (cf. Ttichert, pp. 15-17). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 1 99 
 
 Longus tells his plain tale in chronological or- 
 der, except, of course, that he reserves the reve- 
 lation of Daphnis and Chloe's parentage. He 
 strives after no effects alien to legitimate narra- 
 tive, allows the succession of the seasons to carry 
 the story along, and relates things when they 
 occur, regardless of involution or complication, 
 retardation or suspense. His episodes — the Met- 
 amorphosis of the Ring-dove (I. xxvii) ; Philetas's 
 idyl of Love in a Garden (II. xxxvi) ; the Myth 
 of Pan and Syrinx (II. xxxiv) and of Pan and 
 Echo (III. xxiii) ; the argument of ' Methym- 
 naeans vs. Daphnis' (II. xv-xvi) ; and the de- 
 scriptive passages (ante, pp. 166-169) ; — nearly 
 all fall well within the frame of his very simple 
 plot and his very loose idyllic plan. No strict 
 unity is to be expected of a writer who professes 
 to offer only a succession of pictures ; and we are 
 again astonished at Longus's moderation. 
 
 Achilles Tatius makes Clitophon tell his own 
 story to the listening author, but soon forgets 
 that he has adopted this method : the author, un- 
 like Cnemon, nowhere interrupts the narrative, 
 nor does he "envelope" it at the end, as at the 
 beginning, by resuming his account of himself. 
 Neither does Clitophon carry out consistently his 
 own narrative in the first person: he assumes 
 omniscience wherever Achilles Tatius finds it con- 
 venient, and often reports conversations, and 
 thoughts, feelings and motives, some of which 
 he could certainly not have known at the time 
 they occurred, and some of which he could never 
 have known at all. For example, in Book VI: 
 
200 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 what happened at the door of the room which 
 had been Clitophon's place of confinement, after 
 the return of the slave-girl who guided him out 
 of the house (ii) ; the conversation between 
 Thersander and Sosthenes (iii-iv) ; Melitta's 
 shrewd plan and her speeches to Thersander ( viii- 
 xi) ; what Thersander and Sosthenes did and said 
 before entering the cottage (xv, xvii). But 
 though Achilles Tatius is not master, in the large, 
 of this dramatic method of telling his story, he 
 several times displays dramatic art of no mean 
 order 68 in choosing persons to relate its incidents. 
 It is from her mother Panthea that Leucippe 
 learns of the escape of Clio (II. xxviii) ; it is 
 Melitta herself who, not knowing Leucippe, tells 
 her that Clitophon has been faithful (V. xxii) ; 
 and it is Leucippe, who, unaware that Thersander 
 is listening to her soliloquy, informs him that 
 there has been no adultery between Clitophon and 
 Melitta (VI. xvi). In every case the words gain 
 in force from the speaker, the situation, and the 
 hearer. This narrative, moreover, which makes 
 such effective occasional use of dramatic situa- 
 tion, is quite unhampered by the conventions of 
 the epic. It begins at the beginning, follows, for 
 the most part, the chronological order, and never 
 puzzles the reader. Its straightforward ordon- 
 nance naturally aids the author in taking care of 
 his time-relations, which, indeed, he has accu- 
 rately thought out in detail. The flight of Clito- 
 phon and Leucippe with Clinias, their shipwreck, 
 
 68 Cf. ante, pp. 154, 160. — The role of confidant, in " Clit- 
 ophon and Leucippe," is divided among Clinias, Satyrus, 
 
 and Menelaus. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 201 
 
 the rescue of Clinias, and his return to Tyre — 
 together occupy precisely five days ; so that Clin- 
 ias, having given out that he was to be in the 
 country ten days, finds it easy to allay suspicion, 
 and prevent his complicity in the elopement from 
 transpiring. Two days after Clinias, Hippias re- 
 turns from the journey on which he was absent 
 when Clitophon and Leucippe eloped. Upon his 
 arrival he finds waiting for him his half-brother's 
 letter, which arrived just one day after the elope- 
 ment (V. x). — The deviations from chronolog- 
 ical order are both made in the interest of sus- 
 pense: the mystery of the supposed decapitation 
 of Leucippe (V. vii) is not cleared up till within 
 a few chapters of the end (VIII. xv) ; the no- 
 vella of Callisthenes and Calligone, suspended at 
 the latter's abduction (II. xviii), is not resumed 
 till VIII. xvii, and not completed till the last 
 chapter of all, where it is again brought into line 
 with the main plot, contemporaneously with 
 which it ends. 
 
 This novella is bound to the main plot by a 
 single thread, but a very strong one : the abduc- 
 tion of Calligone renders impossible her marriage 
 to Clitophon as planned, and permits the success- 
 ful prosecution of his love-affair with Leucippe. 
 In so far, it is not so irrelevant as the novella of 
 Cnemon, in the "^Ethiopica." 69 But in the num- 
 ber and the bulk of his irrelevancies Achilles 
 Tatius far exceeds Heliodorus; if the "iEthio- 
 
 69 The irrelevancy of Cnemon's story is disguised. He 
 tells the instalments at so many places in the course of the 
 main plot that the novella as a whole has the appearance 
 of being structurally interwoven with it. 
 
202 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 pica " is about a quarter out of its frame, " Clito- 
 phon and Leucippe" must be nearly half out. 
 Only one possible artistic purpose can be served 
 by these divagations, — that of retardation and 
 suspense, — an effect which the interruption of 
 main plot by episode or novella, and of episode 
 or novella by main plot, and of any or all by 
 digression, excursus and expansion, may produce 
 now and then. But such is the mass, and such 
 the damnable iteration, of the irrelevancies in 
 " Clitophon and Leucippe," that for the most part 
 they simply put the reader out of patience. Some 
 of the chief of them having already been dis- 
 cussed will now be only recapitulated ; others will 
 be noted more fully, and certain of their pecu- 
 liarities pointed out. The ma j ority may be roughly 
 classified as Irrelevancies of Plot, Irrelevancies 
 of Characterization, and Irrelevancies of Setting 
 — a rough and overlapping classification which 
 will leave an important group to be treated as a 
 supplementary class: Irrelevant Science and 
 Pseudo-Science. 
 
 Irrelevancies of Plot. — The episode of Clinias's 
 favorite Charicles, of the compulsory marriage 
 proposed for him, 70 and of his death by a fall 
 from his horse 71 (I. vii-viii; xii-xiv), does not 
 touch the plot at a single point : it does not even 
 appear that Clinias was the more willing to leave 
 Tyre because of his friend's death. Equally un- 
 
 70 Which in turn gives occasion to a tirade against women 
 and marriage. 
 
 71 Which in turn gives occasion to three displays of 
 rhetoric, — the description of the runaway horse, and the 
 lamentations for the youth by his father and by Clinias 
 respectively. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 203 
 
 connected with the plot is the corresponding epi- 
 sode of Menelaus's favorite, whom Menelaus 
 accidentally killed in an endeavor to save him 
 from a boar (II. xxxiv). The digressions on the 
 origin of wine (II. ii) and on the discovery of 
 the purple dye (II. xi) have no better pretext 
 than that a wine-cup is used at a feast, and that 
 a purple robe is part of the wedding-outfit. Co- 
 nops and his amusing interchange of Aesopic 
 fables with Satyrus play no part whatever. Conops 
 does not hinder, nor does his defeat in this skir- 
 mish of wits promote, the rendezvous or the 
 elopement: at the last moment he just happens 
 to be out of the way, absent on an errand (II. 
 xx-xxii, xxxi). The shipwreck of the eloping 
 party (III. iv) and the consequent hiring of 
 another vessel by Clitophon and Leucippe to take 
 them to Alexandria (III. ix) are of exceedingly 
 doubtful relevancy. Clitophon and Leucippe were 
 on a ship bound for Alexandria anyway ; so that 
 — (eliminating the shipwreck) — the Herdsmen's 
 attack might just as well have been made upon 
 the original ship at the same point in its voyage 
 up the Nile. It may plausibly be urged that the 
 wreck has an effect upon the plot in that it sepa- 
 rates Clitophon and Leucippe from their com- 
 panions; that the Herdsmen consequently, cap- 
 turing our pair at a different time and place from 
 Menelaus and Satyrus, are unaware that the pris- 
 oners are all friends; and hence are willing to 
 entrust to Menelaus and Satyrus the task of sac- 
 rificing Leucippe — a willingness which proves to 
 be her salvation. But such a separation of the 
 
204 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 party might just as easily have been brought about 
 during the confusion incident to the Herdsmen's 
 capture of the original ship. Furthermore, why 
 should Clitophon and Leucippe, wrecked at Pelu- 
 sium, go on to Alexandria at all? It is only 
 accident (II. xxxi) that makes Alexandria their 
 destination in the first place; so that, if the ship 
 that happens to be bound thither is wrecked, 
 they have no particular purpose in going thither 
 alone. If, then, the author wished them to go to 
 Alexandria, and to be exposed to the attack of 
 river-pirates on the way, he might much more 
 plausibly have left them on their first ship, adher- 
 ing with some sort of probability to the destina- 
 tion which chance had assigned them. The wreck 
 had better have been left out. Of course, the 
 omission would have deprived Achilles Tatius of 
 numerous show-pieces: the storm, the fight for 
 the boats, Clinias riding the waves, Clitophon's 
 prayer to Poseidon, and the statue and the paint- 
 ings at Pelusium. — Charmides's reinforcements 
 are delayed by the appearance of the Phoenix 
 (III. xxiv-xxv), — a delay which has no effect 
 one way or the other upon the expedition, has no 
 further connection with the story, and is ob- 
 viously introduced to give occasion for an account 
 of the Phoenix itself, one degree further removed 
 from relevancy. The story of Philomela (V. vi) 
 is uncalled for, given the painting (ante, p. 174). 
 Between the first court-scene (VII. vii-xii) and 
 the second (VIII. viii-xi) the idea comes to 
 Thersander that he will challenge Leucippe and 
 Melitta to the ordeal; this he threatens in the 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 205 
 
 temple (VIII. ii) ; and this he has in reserve 
 throughout the second trial. The moment he 
 actually makes the challenge (VIII. xi) he ren- 
 ders nugatory the three preceding chapters of 
 forensic display : his own attack (viii), the Priest's 
 defence (ix) and Sopater's supplementary attack 
 (x). These speeches have nothing whatever to 
 do with the course of the story; there is no pre- 
 tense that the decision is influenced by them; in 
 fact the decision is taken out of court altogether 
 and left to divine judgment; they are words, — 
 words and nothing more. So of the dubbio (II. 
 xxxv-xxxviii) on boys and women: it has "noth- 
 ing to do with the case." Nothing leads to it, 
 nothing depends upon it; it leads to no choice, 
 and is the outcome of no choice. Clitophon intro- 
 duces it merely to make talk. 72 All these irrele- 
 
 " The difference between a relevant and an irrelevant 
 debat appears neatly if the above be contrasted with (a) 
 the argument between Clitophon and Melitta, upon her 
 prayer that he yield to her (A. T., V. xv-xvi) ; (b) the argu- 
 ment between Theagenes and Chariclea of the question 
 whether she shall disclose her identity to Hydaspes (iEth., 
 IX. xxiii) ; (c) the argument between Daphnis and Dorco 
 of the question which is the more beautiful (D. & C, I. 
 xv-xvii) ; — decided by Chloe, who gives the victor a kiss. 
 This last debat, though a part of Courier's fragment and 
 hence unknown to the Renaissance, is of special interest. 
 The dispute itself — (the familiar amoeboeic pastoral con- 
 test) — and its subject — (the beauty of the contestants) — 
 are of the old world ; the judge — (a young girl loved by 
 the contestants), and the reward — (her favor) — are of the 
 new world that will produce the Courts of Love. — A regular 
 \ove-dubbio, with judge and decision complete, occurs in 
 Iamblichus, " Babylonica," viii : To one of her three lovers 
 a girl gives her cup, to another the wreath from her head, 
 to the third a kiss. They submit to an old man, an expert, 
 the question which has been most favored. He decides for 
 the third. 
 
3o6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 vancies of plot, — and the list is not exhaustive, — 
 are attributable both to the author's desire for 
 rhetorical display, greater than that of Helio- 
 dorus; and to the equal looseness of his fabric, 
 which will hold in its mesh as much of the for- 
 tuitous, the unexpected and the immaterial as he 
 may be tempted to insert. 73 
 
 Irrelevancies of Characterization in Achilles 
 Tatius have been discussed {ante, pp. 144-145). 
 Their most frequent form, it has been observed, 
 is the needless analysis of " psychological " com- 
 monplace — another kind of show-piece. I cite 
 again a few of the more striking instances: (II. 
 xxix) Leucippe's state of mind under her moth- 
 er's reproof. (III. xi) Excessive sorrow chokes 
 the fountain of tears. (III. xiv) A tale of woe 
 begets sympathy, and sympathy begets friend- 
 ship. (V. xiii) The impression left by the image 
 of the beloved. Love so fills the lover as to leave 
 no room for food! (VI. xix) The workings of 
 anger and desire. (VII. iv) Why tears do not 
 follow immediately upon grievous news (cf. III. 
 xi, supra). (I. vi) Why Clitophon could not 
 sleep. ( VII. vii ) Sympathetic efTect of tears upon 
 a spectator explained. 
 
 Irrelevancies of Setting have also been dis- 
 
 " Achilles Tatius is no more able than Heliodorus to 
 refrain from " orations." Besides the six tirades in the 
 two trial-scenes, already cited (VII. vii-xi ; VIII. viii-x), 
 we have Clitophon's jingling answer to Leucippe's letter 
 (V. xx), Melitta's set speech on Rumor and Calumny (VI. 
 x), Charmides's reply to Menelaus (IV. xi), Leucippe's fine 
 invective against Thersander and Sosthenes (VI. xxi-xxii), 
 and Melitta's last impassioned plea to Clitophon (V. xxv- 
 xxvi). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 207 
 
 cussed (ante, pp. 165-6, 169-176) in their form 
 of geographical and descriptive show-pieces. I re- 
 capitulate these and other " pictures hors texte." 
 
 (Li) The double harbor of Sidon. The paint- 
 ing of Europa. (xii) Charicles's runaway horse. 
 (xv) The Garden. 
 
 (II. iii) The crystal wine-cup. (xi) The neck- 
 lace and the purple robe, (xiv) Geographical 
 marvels : the Sicilian spring, etc. (xv) The sump- 
 tuous sacrifice. 
 
 (III. i-iv) The storm, the shipwreck, the battle 
 for the boats, (vii-viii) The statue of Zeus; the 
 painting of Perseus and Andromeda; the paint- 
 ing of Prometheus. 
 
 (IV. xi-xiii) The Nile and the Herdsmen's 
 islands (description mostly irrelevant — all that 
 matters being the immediate surroundings of 
 Nicochis). 
 
 (V. i-ii) The City of Alexandria, (iii) The 
 painting of Philomela, (vi) The Pharos. 
 
 (VI. vii) Leucippe's tears. 
 
 Irrelevant Science and Pseudo-Science. — Medr- 
 icine: (IV. x) Diagnosis and details of treatment 
 of Leucippe's illness. 
 
 Acoustics and Music: (VIII. vi) Construction 
 of Pan's pipes. 
 
 Aesthetics: (II. xxxvi) The essence of pleas- 
 ure is evanescence. 
 
 Psychology: (VI. vi) The mind not invisible, 
 because mirrored in the face. (And see Irrele- 
 vancies of Characterization) . 
 
 Strategy: (III. xiii) Strategic development of 
 skirmish — heavy troops;, light troops, cavalry; 
 
208 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (IV. xiii-xiv) The brigands' stratagem on the 
 causeway at Nicochis. Both of these, like the 
 similar passages in Heliodorus, are not so much 
 irrelevant as over-expanded. 74 
 
 Zoology: (III. xxv) The Phoenix; (IV. ii-iii) 
 The Hippopotamus ; (iv-v) The Elephant ; (xix) 
 The Crocodile; (I. xviii) The Viper and the 
 Lamprey. 
 
 Physics: (I. xvii) The magnet and the iron. 
 
 Botany: (I. xvii) The Palm-tree and his mate. 
 
 Here let there be recalled from Heliodorus 
 " The stone Pantarbe," which possesses the virtue 
 of protecting its wearer from fire (U 221, 223; 
 VIII. ix, xi), and "the ^Ethiopian Amethyst," 
 which " will not lette him be drunke in deede, that 
 weareth him, but keepeth him sober at all feastes." 
 (U 134; V. xiii) ; as well as "The bird Chara- 
 drius" and "The serpent Basiliscus " (U 86-7; 
 III. vii-viii) . For Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius 
 possess in common a notable trait, which is of 
 the coming world, the world that will produce 
 " Bestiaries/' " Volucraries," " Lapidaries " — and 
 Euphuism. Already these authors express a pe- 
 culiar relation between the supposed phenomena 
 
 T * Certainly they are so if we apply a standard furnished 
 by Achilles Tatius himself at IV. xviii. There, in a single 
 sentence, he tells us that " meanwhile," — 4v Toirry (i. e., 
 while Leucippe was being cured) — quite incidentally, as it 
 were, the robbers were exterminated, and the Nile ren- 
 dered safe for travellers. He thus cavalierly dismisses a 
 process the unsuccessful attempts at which have cost an 
 army, and have extended in time over more than one eighth 
 of his whole narrative (III. xiii; IV. xviii), a book and 
 more. The fact seems to be that he is tired of campaign- 
 ing, and would rather talk about something else. His brevity 
 here is as disproportionate, as was his former detailed 
 expansion. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 209 
 
 of nature and the mental life of man, — employ- 
 ing such phenomena not only by way of metaphor 
 and simile — the storm as a figure of wrath, the 
 fox as a proverb of cunning — but by way of ex- 
 planation and argument. Calasiris suggests to 
 Charicles that Chariclea, who has just fallen love- 
 sick, has been fascinated by an evil eye. An 
 envious eye, he says, fills the air with subtle 
 venom which penetrates the victim's pores. There 
 are analogies : persons are often infected by merely 
 breathing the same air with a sick person; love 
 enters the soul through the eye. " I will bring 
 for examples sake some reason out of the holy 
 bookes, gathered of the consideration of nature. 
 Charadrius healeth those that have the Kinges 
 evill [mistranslation: should be jaundice], which 
 birde flieth away as soone as any that hath this 
 disease hath spied her, and turneth her taile 
 toward him, shutteth her eyes. Not as some say 
 because she would not help him, but that in look- 
 ing upon him, she draweth that evill disease unto 
 her by nature, and therefore she declineth such 
 sight as a present perill. And perhaps you have 
 heard how the serpent Basiliscus, with his onelie 
 breath and looke, doth drye up and corrupte all 
 that it passeth by" (U 86-7; III. vii-viii). 75 
 
 " Helicdorus almost certainly got this passage from Plu- 
 tarch " Quaest. Conviv.," V. vii, 2 (Teubner, Vol. 4, p. 201), 
 where the same virtue and habits are attributed to the 
 Charadrius, the language is similar, and the context the 
 same: viz. a discussion of "fascination," with the familiar 
 phenomena of love and the habits of the Charadrius ad- 
 duced as analogies. From Plutarch, too, the " Physiologus" 
 in all probability got the basis for its account of Chara- 
 drius: brought into the presence of any sick person, the 
 
 15 
 
2IO THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Clitophon's citation of supposed natural phe- 
 nomena is likewise argumentative: (I. xvii- 
 xviii). 'The palm-tree languishes for his mate; 
 the iron is drawn to the magnet by desire; the 
 viper and the lamprey most strangely love ' : ergo 
 — so runs the plain conclusion — ' do thou love me, 
 Leucippe/ 
 
 So far as irrelevancy is not just the unintended 
 product of a careless unarchitectonic habit of 
 mind, so far as it is adverted to and intentional 
 at all, it rests upon a common basis with paradox. 
 Both defeat expectation ; — the one by turning the 
 expectant mind away from the continuation it 
 looks for, and toward a continuation that is not 
 essentially connected with what precedes; the 
 other by the surprising nature of its own content. 
 In both its phases, — irrelevancy and paradox — 
 this element of the unexpected, prominent in the 
 form as in the matter of the Greek Romances, 
 deserves attention. To turn aside to the irrele- 
 vant; to strain suspense by retarding the ex- 
 pected outcome ; to introduce by the way — all un- 
 
 bird foretells his recovery or his death according as it looks 
 toward him or away from him. (Text of " Physiologus " 
 in Lauchert, " Geschichte des Physiologus," p. 232.) If 
 Lauchert is right (p. 42) in dating the " Physiologus " early 
 in the second century A.D., it preceded Heliodorus. — 
 Charadrius is a favorite of the Bestiaries. Philippe de 
 Thaiin, Guillaume le Clerc, Hugues de St. Victor, the 
 " Younger " German Physiologus, " Le Bestiaire d' Amour " 
 of Richard de Fournival, and others, give an account of 
 him substantially as in the " Physiologus." See Lauchert, 
 op. cit.; Reinsch, ed. " Le Bestiaire — das Thierbuch des 
 normannischen Dichters Guillaume le Clerc " ; Hippeau, ed. 
 " Le Bestiaire d' Amour," text, and note p. 112 ff, which 
 cites other authors. The passage in Heliodorus is not men- 
 tioned by any of these writers, but is quoted by Elworthy, 
 " The Evil Eye," p. 33. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 311 
 
 looked for— as many bizarre, ironical, paradox- 
 ical situations and dazzling phrases as possible; 
 and finally to "spring" an issue which is itself 
 a surprising combination of opposites — all these 
 would seem to be consistent results of adopting 
 the unexpected as the principle of the genre. We 
 proceed, then, to the consideration of paradox 
 ( to TrapdSoZov—" the contrary-to-expectation " ) . 
 That our writers seek it consciously is evident. 
 They are continually speaking of their situations 
 as " new and strange " ( Kawbs ) , " against rea- 
 son" (irapaXoyos), " unthought of" (aSo/a?TO?), 
 "against all expectation or hope" (irap 1 iXTrtSa 
 iraaav or irapa e\7n6W), "sudden, impromptu" 
 (aoToo-xe&o?), "unforeseen" ( aTroocxSo^TO? ) , 
 "paradoxical" or "contrary to expectation" 
 ( irapa 86i;av and irapdBo^ ) . So of the fight be- 
 tween mariners and their own passengers— " a 
 new sort of sea-fight" ("A. T.," III. hi); the 
 sudden marriage of Cnemon to the daughter of 
 Nausicles ("^th.," VI. viii) ; Leucippe's several 
 marvellous escapes ("A. T.," VII. xiii) ; Daph- 
 nis's escape from pirates and shipwreck ("D. & 
 C," I. xxxi) ; the surprising war and the equally 
 surprising peace between Methymne and Mytilene 
 ("D. & C," III. iii) ; the kiss Daphnis got from 
 Chloe— the result of his lucky admission to the 
 house of Dryas (" D. & C," III. viii) ; the unex- 
 pected end of the projected marriage between 
 Clitophon and Calligone (" A. T.," I. xviii). Nor 
 do the Romancers ignore the part played by For- 
 tune in bringing about such situations. Accord- 
 ing to Oroondates (" Aeth.," IX. xxi), it is lucky 
 
312 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 opportunity (/eat/>o?) which enables a soldier to 
 perform fi^ya ti • • • kcl\ irapdho^ov. The pirates 
 (V. xxix) bring from their ship rich tables, ves- 
 sels, and fabrics ; " wealth which others had gath- 
 ered by dint of care and sparing, but which was 
 now unsparingly and uncaringly set forth, For- 
 tune delivering it to the insolences of a drinking- 
 bout." And when the antitheses of this same 
 situation issue in the further paradox of a feast 
 turning into a fight (I. i), why then it is 6 Saificov 
 (no need to ask which divinity) who "shewed a 
 wonderful sight in so shorte time, bruing bloude 
 with wine, joyning battaile with banketting, min- 
 gling indifferently slaughters with drinkings, and 
 killings with quaffings " (U 10). Clitophon, hear- 
 ing that he has the consent of Leucippe's father 
 to marry her, " cried out upon Fortune's caprice. 
 . . . After death, marriage; after the dirge, the 
 nuptial hymn! And what a bride does Fortune 
 grant me! One whose corpse she has not even 
 granted me entire!" ("A. T.," V. xi). Some 
 other paradoxes and antitheses not expressly at- 
 tributed to Fortune may be enumerated. When 
 Thyamis assists Theagenes and Chariclea, "surely 
 this deed was not without much glorie, for hee, 
 who was their maister waited upon them, and he 
 who tooke them prisoners, was content to serve 
 them" (U 13-14). Sisimithres shows Charicles 
 the jewels belonging to Chariclea. Upon Chari- 
 cles's declining to buy them because he is not rich 
 enough, "Why saide he [Sisimithres], if you be 
 not able to buy them yet are you able to take them 
 if they be given you. . . . I will give you all these 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 21 3 
 
 things, if you will take them, beside another gifte, 
 which farre excelleth them all " — viz., Chariclea 
 herself (U 70-71). Near the end, Hydaspes ad- 
 dresses Chariclea as " My daughter . . . whose 
 beautie is peerless to no purpose, and hast found 
 thy parents in vaine, which hast in an ill time 
 hapned upon thine owne countrey, worse to thee 
 then any strange lande, who hast bene safe in 
 other countreyes, but art in danger of death in 
 thine owne" (U 272-3). Chariclea's own para- 
 doxes and self-contradictions in this scene (X. 
 xxii) have been quoted (ante, p. 140 q. v.) ; and 
 at the close (X. xxxviii), the gods, it is said, 
 "made very contrarye things agree, and joyned 
 sorrow and mirth, teares and laughter together, 
 and turned fearefull and terrible things into a 
 joyfull banquette in the ende. Many that weapt 
 beganne to laugh, and such as were sorrowfull to 
 rejoice, when they founde that they sought not 
 for, and lost that they hoped to finde ; and to be 
 shorte, the cruell slaughters which were looked 
 for every momente, were turned into holy sacri- 
 fice" (U288). — A paradoxical antithetical ending 
 which is, deliberately, one feels, set over against 
 the paradoxical antithetical beginning : in the one, 
 feasting turned into slaughter; in the other, 
 slaughter turned into feasting. 
 
 A special case of paradox is what may, very 
 broadly, be termed Irony. The unexpected ful- 
 filment of an oracle or a dream, the bringing 
 about of an event by the very means taken to 
 prevent it, the prevention or cure of one evil by 
 another, the turning of an apparent evil into a 
 
214 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 blessing, or the reverse, these and other such 
 contrasts possess an intenser, a more concentrated 
 flavor, as it were, than the cases just noticed. An 
 event the occurrence of which has merely not 
 been expected, is less piquant than an event which 
 has actively been designed not to occur. When 
 Thyamis dreams that Isis gives him Chariclea 
 with the words " Though you have her, you shall 
 not have her; though you kill your guest, you 
 shall not kill her," — he interprets the dream (it- 
 self paradoxical enough) in a way to suit his 
 hopes. Then, by his own action in concealing 
 Chariclea in the cave for safety, and in stabbing 
 Thisbe supposing her to be Chariclea, he fulfils 
 the dark saying (I. xviii, xxviii-xxxi) , 76 The sor- 
 ceress on the battle-field at Bessa, in her attempt 
 to frustrate her dead son's prediction by killing 
 the witnesses of her necromancy, is herself killed, 
 and so accomplishes the prediction (VI. xv). 78 
 Taken by the Ethiopians, Theagenes and Chari- 
 clea are escorted " in captive guise, by those 
 destined ere long to be their subjects " (B. 204, 
 VIII. xvii). Shortly after, their captors "fitted 
 for them fetters of gold. Theagenes laughed 
 and said : Good lorde, whence commeth this trim 
 chaunge? Truely, fortune flattereth us wonder- 
 fully, we chaunge yron for gold, and in prison 
 we are inriched, so that wee bee worth more 
 in our bandes " (IX. ii ; U 234) — a speech iron- 
 ical in the ordinary sense, and aware, too, of the 
 agency of Fortune in bringing about ironical 
 
 M These are cases of " dramatic irony " (cf. e. g., the 
 plot of the "Oedipus Tyrannus"), and may be credited to 
 the influence of tragedy upon Heliodorus. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 215 
 
 situations. In the great scene of reunion under 
 the walls of Memphis (VIII. vii) it has already 
 been observed (ante, p. 188) how the very course 
 which Calasiris took to frustrate the oracle — viz., 
 his retirement to Delphi — brought him in contact 
 with the fortunes of Theagenes and Chariclea, 
 which in turn took him back to Memphis at the 
 appointed time. 77 The happy ending comes about 
 most ironically of all. In order that Theagenes 
 may be saved from the sacrifice, the fact that he 
 is Chariclea's husband must be revealed, and the 
 priest Charicles does reveal it ; but his disclosure 
 takes the form of the capital charge that The- 
 agenes has violated the altar of Apollo by ab- 
 ducting Chariclea! Thus the fact which saves 
 Theagenes appears in a form which threatens 
 to ruin him (X. xxxvi-xxxvii). — In Longus 
 there is very little irony, — in fact, very little place 
 for it. The episode of the Methymnaeans, which 
 at first leads to the beating of Daphnis and the 
 abduction of Chloe (II. xiv, xx), afterward helps 
 to bring about the young people's happiness; as 
 the money lost by the Methymnaeans enables 
 Daphnis to sue successfully for Chloe's hand 
 (III. xxvii-xxxii). Megacles suffers "the irony 
 of Fate " in that, as he says, " Wealth began to 
 pour in upon me when I had no heir to enjoy 
 it ; " moreover, the paradox of his dreams is unex- 
 pectedly fulfilled : " as if wishing to make a mock 
 of me, the gods are continually sending dreams 
 by night, signifying, forsooth, that a ewe will 
 make me a father" (B 345; IV. xxxv) — In 
 
 77 See p. 214 n. 76. 
 
2l6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 " Clitophon and Leucippe " irony appears often, 
 but on rather a small scale: there is no large 
 grasp of events extending over broad times and 
 spaces, — like that which, in the "^Ethiopica," 
 brings Calasiris to Memphis, or balances the end 
 of the story against the beginning. Achilles 
 Tatius puts closer together the expectation and its 
 defeat. The event portended by the eagle (II. 
 xiii) — i. e., the abduction of the bride — takes 
 place at the sacrifice intended to avert it (II. 
 xviii). Whereas Panthea's dream (II. xxiii) 
 imported the actual disembowelment of Leucippe, 
 and by robbers, the event is in fact only an ap- 
 parent disembowelment, which is performed by 
 friends, and is the means of delivering her from 
 the robbers (III. xv, xx-xxii). In the same 
 way, her apparent decapitation, really the de- 
 capitation of another woman, leads to the quarrel 
 between Chaereas and the pirates, which issues 
 in the murder of Chaereas, and in Leucippe's 
 escape from him (V. vii; VIII. xvi). Her 
 mental derangement is another blessing in dis- 
 guise, in that it effectually prevents the prosecu- 
 tion of Charmides's designs against her (IV. 
 ixff.). 
 
 There are a few instances of verbal irony. 
 Satyrus remarks, in relating how Clitophon has 
 declined Melitta's offers (V. xi), "I suppose he 
 thinks Leucippe will come to life again," — which 
 is virtually what does happen (V. xvii). When 
 Sosthenes tells Leucippe that all is going well — 
 that Thersander is madly in love with her and 
 may possibly even marry her — , the irony of her 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 217 
 
 reply " May the gods requite you with equal 
 joy ! " seems to be quite lost upon him (VI. xi- 
 xii). Exceedingly bizarre, whether in any 
 proper sense ironical or not, is the situation where 
 Clitophon is tried, and upon his own confession 
 is condemned, for the murder of a person whom 
 he loves, who is alive all the time, and who dur- 
 ing part of the time is actually present in court 
 (VII. vi-xiii; VIII. ix). 
 
 Certain special situations containing the ma- 
 terials for antithesis and paradox are of such 
 frequent occurrence in the Greek Romances as to 
 deserve particular mention. Of these, one is the 
 contrast between marriage and death. Chari- 
 cles' daughter died on her wedding-night: "The 
 marriage Song, not yet ended, was turned to 
 mourning ; and she was carried out of her Bride- 
 bedde into her grave: and the tapers that gave 
 her light at her wedding, did now serve to kindle 
 her funerall fire" 78 (U 69-70; II. xxix). Hy- 
 daspes uses almost the same words to Chariclea: 
 " follow thy father, who cannot provide a mar- 
 riage for thee, nor bring thee to bedde in any 
 costlie bowers, but make thee ready for sacrifice, 
 and beare before thee, not such tapers as are 
 used at bridalles, but appointed for sacrifice" 
 (U 272-3, X. xvi). Chariclea on the pyre is 
 said to lie like a bride upon a fiery bed (VIII. 
 ix). To Thyamis, Chariclea dissemblingly says: 
 " We have good cause ... to accompt ourselves 
 happy, because some God hath brought us into 
 your hands, where those who feared death, have 
 
 T8 Cf. " Romeo and Juliet," IV. v, particularly the speeches 
 of Capulet ; and see Sophocles, " Antigone," passim. 
 
2l8 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 now space to thinke on marriage" (U 32; I. 
 xxii). In " Clitophon and Leucippe," the father 
 of the dead youth Charicles laments over his 
 son's body: "When, my son, will you wed? 
 when shall I make your nuptial sacrifice, o luck- 
 less bridegroom ? The grave is your bridal bed, 
 death your marriage, mourning your shout of 
 Hymen, and this dirge your nuptial hymn. . . . 
 O fatal torches, not of marriage, but of the 
 tomb!" (A. T., I. xiii). This gives the imagery 
 complete, with the antitheses presented by the 
 situation all fully developed ; so that it will suffice 
 merely to list the four other similar passages. 
 Apostrophizing Leucippe, who has been captured 
 by robbers, Clitophon cries, 'Aim S'vfievafop rts 
 croi rbv dprjvov ahet (III. x). Andromeda in the 
 picture, exposed to her death, is " robed like a 
 bride" (VIII. vii). Clitophon's lament for Leu- 
 cippe when he receives word that her father con- 
 sents to their marriage, has been quoted (ante, 
 p. 212; V. xi: Mera Odvarov yd/JLOL, /jLeraOpijvov 
 vfievaioi kt\.). The same contrast forms the 
 basis of Melitta's jest-in-earnest, Kevord^iov fih 
 yap elSov, KevoydfiLOv B'ov (V. xiv). 
 
 A second stock rhetorical antithesis is found in 
 the contrast, under various aspects and circum- 
 stances, of land and water. 79 Gorgias, who in- 
 
 " In the form, " a sea-fight on land and a land-battle at 
 sea," this antithesis was one of the traditional purple patches 
 of Greek and Roman rhetoric. Norden, " Antike Kunst- 
 prosa," pp. 385, 437, gives its history, beginning with 
 Gorgias, and citing no less than thirteen imitators, among 
 whom " endlich hat Himerios eine wahrhaft diabolische 
 Freude daran " ! Akin to it is the combination of water 
 with fire in the Sicilian spring (A. T., II. xiv). " Un autre 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 219 
 
 vented it, applied it to Xerxes' battle with the 
 Greeks. In the "iEthiopica," the Nile having been 
 admitted to the moat around Syene, "thus was 
 Syene made an Island, and a citie which standeth 
 in the middest of a country, was compassed about 
 with water, and beaten upon soare with the waves 
 of Nylus. . . . Truely this was a strange sight, 
 that a shippe should sayle from wall to wall, and a 
 Marryner shoulde practice his skill in the middest 
 of the drye lande, and a boate be rowed where 
 the plowe was woont to worke. And although 
 the toile of warre ever deviseth new thinges, yet 
 then invented it the straungest thing, when it 
 made those that were in ships, fight with them 
 that stoode upon the walks, and joyned two 
 armies by sea and land together" (U 236-7; IX. 
 iv-v). The corresponding passage in Achilles 
 Tatius, describing the Nile in flood, is enorm- 
 ously elaborated, following into detail the con- 
 trast between nautical operations and utensils on 
 the one hand, and agricultural operations and 
 utensils on the other. It bristles with antitheses 
 (A. T. IV. xii). So of the situation of Tyre 
 on an island reached by a causeway: "Strange 
 sight — a city at sea and an island ashore" (II. 
 xiv). Again, the peculiar circumstances of the 
 
 de nos Poetes, repliqua Philanthe, dit, en faisant la descrip- 
 tion d'un naufrage cause par l'embrasement du navire : 
 ' Soldats & matelots roules confinement, Par un double 
 malheur perissent doublement; L'un se brule dans l'onde, 
 au feu l'autre se noye, Et tout en meme temps dedeux 
 morts sont la proye.'— Ce vers, ' L'un se brule dans l'onde, 
 au feu l'autre se noye,' ressemble assez au votre, ' Doute si 
 l'oiseau nage, ou si le poisson vole.' " Bouhours, " La 
 Maniere de Bien Penser dans les Ouvrages d'Esprit." 3me 
 Dialogue, pp. 346-7 (Paris, 1695)- 
 
220 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 battle with the Herdsmen brought about " a new 
 sort of disaster — a shipwreck but nowhere a ship. 
 Both these events were new and unthinkable : a 
 land-battle in the water, and a shipwreck on the 
 land!" (IV. xiv). 
 
 The third of these tricks of rhetoric, charge- 
 able, like the second, to Gorgias, is the bold 
 metaphor that is famous because Longinus con- 
 demned it (De Subl., III. 2) : "Vultures, — living 
 tombs" (Tv7re<; efjLyjrv^oi, ra<j>oi). This would 
 naturally come to be applied to any living thing 
 that had devoured another. Thus, in Ovid Met., 
 VI. 445, Tereus calls himself the tomb of his 
 son Itys. 80 Achilles Tatius (III. v) makes 
 Clitophon, as he floats on the wreckage with Leu- 
 cippe, pray to Poseidon: 'Let one wave over- 
 whelm us, or one fish swallow us both, and be 
 our common tomb.' Again (III. xvi) Clitophon 
 laments Leucippe's entrails, which he supposes 
 to have been eaten by the robbers: 97 r&v 
 a7r\dyxvc0v crov racfyrj Xrjarcov yeyove rpocf>r) — a 
 conceit all the more disgusting because gratui- 
 tous. 
 
 It is evident that we have here entered the 
 
 80 Cited by Norden, op. cit., 385, with numerous other 
 occurrences of the metaphor. In the " Gerusalemme Libe- 
 rata " (XII. 78-79), Tancred about to return to Clorinda's 
 corpse fancies that it may have been devoured by a wild 
 beast : if so, he wishes that he may be devoured by the 
 same, and rest with her in one tomb ! Bouhours, op. cit., 
 3me Dialogue, p. 393, discusses this and other conceits. 
 The vitality of Gorgias's metaphor is illustrated by a whim- 
 sical story in McClure's Magazine for March, 1909, " Bibi 
 Steinfeld's Hunting," p. 480 ff: a widow whose husband 
 has been eaten by a lion captures the animal, keeps him 
 alive, and places about his neck a collar inscribed with an 
 epitaph which ends " Ruhe Sanft." 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 221 
 
 province of wholly artificial rhetoric. Together 
 with circumstances or events which by their 
 nature afford the material of the unexpected, — a 
 contrast, a bit of irony, an antithesis, a sur- 
 prise — , we now find events and circumstances 
 which, commonplace in themselves, are by arti- 
 fice analysed into antithetical elements, and 
 forced to yield up a conceit. Such is the situa- 
 tion of Tyre — a city on an island connected with 
 the mainland by a causeway. What of it? 
 Nothing; — except to a mind already infected by 
 Gorgias's conceit of 'Land versus Water,' and 
 desirous of emulating it. But that mind quickly 
 cuts in two the single concept of the situation of 
 Tyre, and then sets over against each other the 
 results of the dichotomy. We turn to a brief 
 consideration of such artifices, employed where 
 material for the unexpected is giving out, and 
 the conceit has become largely verbal. 
 
 Two chief types have already been exemplified. 
 In the one, which may be called " Oxymoron," 
 X and Y, being opposite, or at least disconnected, 
 in fact or in their associations (like land and 
 water, or death and marriage), are combined. 
 In the other, which may be called " Antithesis " 
 proper, X and Y are set over against each other, 
 and kept apart. The two types, though distinct 
 enough at their centres, merge at their edges. 
 Where, for instance, X a noun is modified by Y 
 an adjective, the resulting concept, though self- 
 contradictory, is single: this is a clear case of 
 Oxymoron (e. g., the " freezing flame," "burn- 
 ing ice," "sweet pain," and "grievous joy" of 
 
232 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the Petrarchists). Where X and Y are in sepa- 
 rate sentences or clauses, or where, in the same 
 sentence or clause, they are avowedly contrasted, 
 the case is an equally clear one of Antithesis {e. 
 g., "the marriage Song . . . was turned to 
 mourning" ante, p. 217). On the border line, — 
 as where X in a phrase modifies a clause which 
 ends in Y — occur numerous cases which may 
 plausibly be classified either way. The device 
 itself being largely verbal, these syntactical dis- 
 tinctions are not so unimportant as they may 
 seem. That they are, in fact, essential, will ap- 
 pear when to the trick of Antithesis and Oxy- 
 moron we find the rhetorician adding Balance in 
 grammatical structure. The following cases, 81 
 then, are arranged, roughly, according to the in- 
 creasing syntactical and logical separation of 
 X and Y. 
 
 (1) X noun modified by Y adjective. 
 
 A. T., V. i. In Alexandria there is an evSrjfios 
 airoh-qfiia — a stay-at-home migration; (either be- 
 cause of the great population, which would con- 
 stitute as it were an intramural Volkerwanderung, 
 or because of the great size of the city, which 
 
 81 Nearly all from Achilles Tatius, who very fully exem- 
 plifies this estilo alto. The passages given here, which were 
 gathered independently, are abundantly confirmed by those 
 quoted and referred to in Norden, op. cit., 434-442. Nor- 
 den also corroborates my opinion that Heliodorus is less 
 artificial in style than either Longus or Achilles Tatius 
 (" Heliodorus ist ausser Xenophon v. Ephesos am spar- 
 samsten mit seinen Kunstmitteln." lb., 439 s , and cf. 43s 2 ) ; 
 and his quotations and citations from " Daphnis and Chloe " 
 exhibiting the same rhetorical devices make it needless for 
 me to extend the present discussion specifically to Longus. 
 Achilles Tatius may serve as the type of the rhetorician- 
 romancer. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 223 
 
 would allow of a journey abroad, as it were, 
 though the traveller remained at home.) 
 
 A. T., II. ii. "What is this purple water f 
 Where did you get this sweet blood?" 
 
 A. T., III. vii. The painter has adorned An- 
 dromeda €V/JLOp(j)0) <f)6f3(p. 
 
 A. T., IV. xii. The flooded banks of the Nile 
 become, so to speak, an arable sea — jre'Xayos yecop- 
 yovfxevov. 
 
 (2) X noun subject of Y verb. 
 
 A. T., VI. vii. When a beautiful eye weeps, 
 the tears smile, (tc\ Be Bdicpva • • • jeXcf.) 
 
 A. T., II. vii. Leucippe must carry a bee upon 
 her lips : full of honey, her kisses sting: Tirpaxr/cei 
 gov ra (fnX^/jLara. 
 
 A. T., II. xxxiv. Menelaus at the death of his 
 favorite feels o>? av aWos tis airoddvot %cov. 
 
 (3) X verb modified by Y adverb, or its 
 equivalent. 
 
 A. T., V. xiv. Melitta jested in earnest — eirai^e 
 
 GTTOvBrj. 
 
 A. T., V. xx. Clitophon's answer to Leu- 
 cippe's letter: I am unhappy in my happiness: 
 Ayo-TV^a) fxev ev oh evrvxa). 
 
 A. T., II. xxiv. Panthea to Leucippe : aBo^eh 
 
 ev oh SvO~TV)(€h. 
 
 (4) X verb takes object Y noun. 
 
 y£th., VI. viii; U 162-3. " Lette us singe 
 teares . . . and daunce lamentations" : aaco- 
 (lev • • • Oprjvovs /cal 70'ov? virop^awixeda. 
 
 A. T., III. x. tjSt] tov Bpr\vov l^op^(r]Cfop.ai. 
 ibid. /j,e/jL(j)o/jLa{ o~ov tt) (f>c\av0p(O7ria. 
 
 A. T., IV. ix. " We fear even good heck " : 
 (f>o/3ovfA€0 a teal rd evrvxv^ aTa - 
 
224 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (5) X and Y adjectives both modify the same 
 noun. 
 
 A. T., V. xx. " I see you present as if ab- 
 sent " : (T€ • • • TTCLpOVGCLV ft)? ctTToSij/jiovaav opco. 
 
 (6) X (noun) is said to be the Y (noun) of 
 x (noun closely associated with X — e. g., the 
 genus of which X is a species, the material of 
 which X is made, etc.). 
 
 A. T., II. i. The rose is the eye of flowers — 
 odjOaXfjuos avOecov, 82 and the blush of the meadow 
 — Xeifi&vos ipvdrjfjia. 62 
 
 A. T., I. xv. The peacock's tail shows flowers 
 of feathers — avOrj 82 irrep&v. 
 
 (7) X and Y verbs have the same subject or 
 object. 
 
 A. T., V. iii. Philomela and Procne in the pic- 
 ture simultaneously laugh and fear: <ye\<aai B y 
 
 CLjJLCL fCCll djoftoVVTdL. 
 
 A. T., III. x. 77/-KX? Be aaxrao-a fxaWov aireic- 
 reivas. 
 
 82 " Je ne vous parle pas du Cavalier Marin, . . . qui 
 appelle la rose Vail du print emps la prunelle de I 'Amour, 
 la pourpre des prairies, la fleur des autre s fleurs ; le ros- 
 signol, une voix emplumee, un son volant, une plume har- 
 monieuse ; les etoiles. les lampes d'or du firmament, les 
 flambeaux des funerailles du jour, ... les fleurs immor- 
 telles des campagnes celestes. (Quotes the phrases in Italian, 
 but without giving references to the passages in Marino. 
 Italics mine.) . . . Selon votre gout, ajouta-t-il (viz., 
 Eudoxe to Philanthe), c'est quelque chose de fort beau 
 que ce qu'on a dit d'une belle chanson, que c'est un air qui 
 vole avec des ailes de miel ; de la queue du Paon, que 
 c'est une prairie de plumes; and de l'Arc-en-ciel, que c'est 
 le ris du ciel qui pleure, un arc sans fleches, ou qui n'a que 
 de traits de lumiere, & qui ne frappe que les yeux. — Ah que 
 cela est joli, s'ecria Philanthe ! " — Bouhours, op. cit., 3me 
 Dialogue, pp. 353-4, 355- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 225 
 
 A. T., II. xxii. The gnat speaks: 'E7o> Be 
 wapcov ov Trdpet/JLL ' 6/jlov Be Kai (f>evy(o Kai, /xevco. 
 
 (8) X and Y nouns both predicates of one sub- 
 stantive verb. 
 
 A. T., II. xxii. The gnat again : (toXttl^ Be 
 /Mot Kai /3e\o? to <ri6\xa • war eifil Kai au\??T7/5 icai 
 TofoV?;?. 'Efxavrov B , otoTO? Kai to^ov yivo\iai. 
 
 (9) X subject and Y object of same verb. 
 
 2EAh., II. iv. Theagenes laments the sup- 
 posed corpse of Chariclea : otfioi, o-t&>7ra?, Kai to 
 \1avTiK0v eicelvo Kai derjyopov crropba aiyr) /caTe^et, 
 Kai ^6cf)o<; T7)V irvpfyopov KareiX^ev. ' Silence pos- 
 sesses that prophetic mouth; and darkness has 
 seized her that bore the flame'). 
 
 (10) X in a phrase modifies a clause contain- 
 ing Y. 
 
 Mth., V. xxiv; U 143-4- At the approach of 
 the pirates, "all the hulke was moved . . . and 
 in a calme weather had it a great tempest" : ev re 
 yaXrjvrj kXvBoovos everr\r](TTO. 
 
 Ibid. xxv. U 145. After the encounter be- 
 tween the pirates and the crew, there followed 
 77-o'Ae/AO? epyois 6 ^a\e7roSraTO?, elprjvr)? ovofxan 
 v66u> TrapaXvofievos, avvdrjKrjs fiapvTepas nr\eov rj 
 T rJ9 fidxns opi&fievr)? : " for all the counterfeited 
 name of peace, it was cruell warre in deed, by 
 reason of the truce . . . more intolerable than 
 the battaile it selfe." 
 
 A. T., I. xiv. Clinias to the horse of Chari- 
 cles : ' In the very act of being praised, you killed 
 him ' : <rv B 1 aTreKieiva^ eiraivovnevos. 
 
 y£th., I. xxix. Cnemon concealing Chariclea 
 in the cave, weeps ' because he has delivered over 
 16 
 
236 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 to night and darkness that most radiant thing 
 among men — Chariclea ' : on • • • to (fraiSpoTciTOP 
 to)v ev av0pa)7TOL<; lHapUXeiap vvktI ko\ £b'(£a> 
 7rapaBe8c0/cco$. 
 
 (n) X noun receives attribute of Y noun, and 
 Y receives attribute of X. 
 
 A. T., II. xiv. A city at sea and an island 
 ashore. 
 
 A. T., IV. xiv. A land-battle in the water and 
 a shipwreck on the land. 
 
 (12) X in sub-clause modifies main clause con- 
 taining Y. 
 
 A. T., IV. ix. *£2 oWrir^et? rj/xek otclp evTvyj]- 
 
 A. T., II. xxxvi. ocrov cXcittovtcu [sc. rj r)8ovrj~\ 
 to) xpovw, toctovtov ek fieyeOos ifcreiverai iroOco. 
 
 A. T., IV. xii. *0 TreirXev/cas, (frvTeveis, real 6 
 (frvTevets, tovto ireXayos yecopyov/jiepop. " Where 
 you have sailed, you sow ; and where you sow is 
 an arable sea." 
 
 (13) X and Y in co-ordinate clauses or sen- 
 tences. 
 
 A. T., I. xv. iyivero ra> klttcd o^r^ia to (J>vt6p, 
 
 ffT€$aPO$ 8' KLTTOS TOV (f)VTOV. 
 
 A .T., II. xxxvii. 'HpdaOr] (sc. 6 Zei>?) fieipa- 
 tciov <J>0vyo9, avtfyayev ek ovpavbv top <&pvya • to 
 Be /caXXos t5>v yvvaitcwv civtop top Aia tcaTrjyayep 
 ef ovpapov. 
 
 A. T., III. vi. eoixe to Oe'a/jLa [the picture of 
 Andromeda], el pep ek to tcdWo? aTrlBois, aydX- 
 fiaTL Kaipfv, el 8* ek tcl Bea/xa teal to /o)to?, avTO- 
 o-^eoY&> Ta^xp. 
 
 7Eth. } IV. viii; U 108. (End of Persina's in- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 227 
 
 scription upon Chariclea's fillet). "That I have 
 written, if thou live, shall be token* to thee (my 
 daughter in vaine beautifull, which by thy beauty 
 procured my blame) of thy birth. But if thou 
 die . . . they shall serve to bury thee": el fiev 
 Trepcawdrje^, yvcopLo-fiara' el 8', oirep Kal aKorjv 
 \ddoi ttjv ifJLrjv, eiriTV^Bia. 
 
 A. T., V. viii. Clitophon over the headless 
 trunk supposed to be Leucippe's : " In the guise 
 of thy greater part (i. e., the trunk), there is left 
 to me thy smaller part ; but the sea, in the little it 
 possesses (i. e., the head), has thee all." MiKpbv 
 fioi aov fxepos KaTaXeXeiirrai ev ofec rod p.el^ovo<s ' 
 avjt) [sc. 17 daXaaaa] V ev 0X170) to ttuv aov 
 
 Kparel. 
 
 (14) X and Y expressly compared (includes 
 
 last example in 13). »>*,*> 
 
 A. T., I. xv. 'AvreXafiwe 5' rj rcov avdeav Vea 
 
 TT) twv opvidav XP oi <?" . . . , 
 
 ' D. & C, I. xxxii. Chloe's bath, which had re- 
 doubled her charms, seemed to Daphnis more 
 formidable than the ocean, from which he had 
 just escaped : eSofcet, to \ovrpbv elvai irfi 0a\atr<rrfi 
 <f)o(3ep<*>Tepov. 
 
 A. T., V. xiii. Uolov ycLp oyfrov fxoi iroKmekei 
 
 7) TTOtO? OW Ti/UOJTCOO? 7TJ9 0"r}? 0^60)?. 
 
 (15) X and Y once fairly apart, several other 
 tricks of antithesis can be brought into play, and 
 of these Achilles Tatius avails himself to the full. 
 It is, for example, a mannerism of his to say that 
 X and Y (persons, things, feelings) rivalled each 
 other, neither gaining the victory. So of Alex- 
 andria (V. i) : its population vies with its size, 
 
228 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 its size rivals its beauty, and its beauty rivals the 
 beauty of the sky. Clinias and the father of 
 Charicles vie with each other in grief (I. xiv) ; 
 Leucippe's beauty rivals that of the garden (I. 
 xix) ; the flowers rival the peacock's plumes (I. 
 xv) ; the odors of incense and of flowers contend 
 (II. xv ). Land and water struggle for the pos- 
 session of Tyre (II. xiv) and of Egypt (IV. xii). 
 The hindfeet of Charicles's horse (I. xii) strive 
 to overtake the forefeet, in a iroh&v a/uW.77! 
 
 (16) Conflicting Emotions. — Another trick of 
 the same author is to attribute conflicting traits 
 or emotions to his personages whenever possible. 
 Andromeda in the picture shows beauty and fear ; 
 Prometheus both hopes and fears (III. vii, viii) ; 
 Philomela and Procne laugh and fear (V. iii). 
 Thersander vacillates between desire and rage 
 (VI. xix) and between grief, anger, and delibera- 
 tion (VII. i). Clitophon (V. xix) reads Leu- 
 cippe's letter, and Melitta (V. xxiv) picks up 
 and reads the same letter, — each with conflicting 
 emotions. At II. xxiii and at VI. xiv, there is 
 a repetition of almost the same words, which 
 show plainly how this mannerism is made to yield 
 an antithesis. In the first passage, Clitophon 
 enters Leucippe's chamber, "trembling with 
 double trepidation, of joy and of fear. For the 
 fear of danger confounded my soul's hope, and 
 hope of success hid my fear in pleasure. Thus 
 the hoping part of me was afraid, and the griev- 
 ing part rejoiced." The other passage, concern- 
 ing Clitophon in prison, is even neater : " My soul 
 was in the balance between hope and fear, and 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 229 
 
 the hoping part feared and the fearing part 
 hoped " : rrjv yjrvxrjv e^op iirl Tpvrdvr)? iXirtSos 
 Koi <f>6/3ov, Kal i(j}oj3elT6 yuot to eXiri^ov /cal rjXin^e 
 to <f>o^Qv^evov. 
 
 (17) Multiple Antithesis. — Again, as X and Y 
 separate more and more, it becomes possible to 
 work a double or even triple antithesis, as in the 
 passages just given, — the formula for which 
 would be something like this: X and Y con- 
 fronted (one clause) ; X vs. Y (one clause) ; Y 
 vs. X (one clause) ; all together forming three 
 co-ordinate clauses, each of which contains X set 
 over against Y, while the second and the third 
 clauses are in addition set over against each other. 
 Further examples of this antithesis between anti- 
 theses are given above. (See (9), (10), (11), 
 (12), (13).) Among the dangers of this striving 
 after effect may be noted that sometimes, when 
 two things are not opposed at all, the rhetorician 
 nevertheless opposes them for the sake of the 
 jingle. "The trunk was a support to the ivy, 
 and the ivy was a garland to the trunk." (A. T., 
 I. xv. quoted at (13) above). Neither the couple 
 "trunk" and "ivy," nor the couple "support" 
 and " garland," is antithetical in the least. 
 
 (18) Balance; Parallel Structure. — It is 
 notable too that when X and Y are held apart in 
 separate phrases, clauses, or sentences, the oppor- 
 tunities for balance increase. The narrow limits 
 of a single phrase or clause usually permit only 
 the single occurrence of a group of sentence-ele- 
 ments : — preposition + object ; conjunction + sub- 
 ject + verb -f- adverb; and the like. But when 
 
23O THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 two or more such groups are set parallel, the 
 structure of each may find its double in the struc- 
 ture of the others; and any antithesis within or 
 between them is by such duplication rendered the 
 more striking. For convenient reference I quote 
 again, along with other examples, some passages 
 already given. 
 
 A. T., Ill vii (Painting of Andromeda) : eouce 
 to Oeocfxa 
 
 /el /JLev €6? to /ca\\o5 air lBols, ayaXfiaTL fcaivq) f 
 \el & ek ra Beo-fia Kal to ktjto<;, avroa^eBiay Tacfxp. 
 
 A. T., II. xxxvii. 'H/oao-077 [sc. 6 Zet>?] 
 
 fieipa/ciov Qpvybs, avrjyayev €65 ovpavov tov 
 
 <&pvya f to Be kciXXos tcov yvvaiKcov avTov tov Aia 
 
 KaTr\yayev e'f ovpavov. 83 
 
 A ^ , , , /to) kittg> oyrifJLa to 6vtov, 
 
 A. T., I. XV. €76I/€TO< * ,, * V7 
 
 '. \o-Tecpavos kittos tov 
 
 <f)VTOV. 
 
 » /> *> /V t&v avdecov 64a 
 
 avTeXaiiTre o< « « » , n 
 
 \ttj T(OV opviucov XP 0La ' 
 
 A. T., II. xxxvi. 
 
 r* f X \-i/o<rov eXaTTOVTai T<£> xpovco 
 
 IV v ^1\to(7ovtov €65 fieyeOos 
 
 eKTeiveTai iroOa). 
 
 A. T., VI. xiv. rrjv yjrv^rjv elyov eirl TpVTavr)? 
 
 w ,* v , , a /Kal i6o8elTO llol to eXiri^ov 
 
 CA/7T6005 /Cat, (pOpOV/ \ *Z * ^ JL D > 
 
 T '\fcai 7]Xin^e to (popovfievov. 
 A. T., II. xxiii. €*7o> B' elarjeiv, • ■ • Tpe'/xoyv Tpo- 
 fj.ov BlttXovv, %aoa5 d\xa Kal (f>6/3ov • 
 
 /o /jlcv yap tov tavBvvov (f>6/3os eOopvftei Ta5 Tr)<; 
 \ "r* v XW eA.7T6 / 8a5, 
 
 \rj 8' €'A.7T65 toO tvxuv eireKaXvirTeiv rjBovrj TOV 
 <j)6{3ov. 
 
 a " He raised a mortal to the skies, 
 She drew an angel duwn." 
 
A. T.,V. xxv. 
 
 ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION *3« 
 
 , /koX to ikirgov t c£o/3etTo' pov 
 
 A. T., VIII. viii. 
 "Orav pev <yap , , , v 
 
 /<j>ovev<o<n rote oXXot/h'ow oMerat ot /W'X 01 
 
 XaotYe^roT^lxXoTpfa? yvvalKM oifw. 
 ('When debauchees murder other people's slaves 
 and murderers debauch other people's wives, etc. ) 
 
 Hicrovnevr) rbv /itcrovvra <f>t\<a 
 
 Kal _ A _ 
 
 o8vva>iievT) rbv 6Bvv&vra i\eS> 
 
 ('Hated, I love my hater; tortured, I pity my 
 
 tOT (Tg e )Homeophonf l (Repetition, Assonance, 
 Alliteration, Rhyme) . As a final touch, the rheto- 
 rician adds to similarity of construction similarity 
 of sound--" homeophony." This may consist 
 merely in repetition of words in the : sarm = or n 
 inflected or derivative forms In (18) there are 
 several examples, exhibiting ingenious mterweav 
 ng of the homeophonic words with the words 
 corresponding in construction Or the homeo- 
 phony may take the form of assonance (simi- 
 larity in vowels), alliteration (similarity in con- 
 sonants), or rhyme (homoioteleuton, similarity 
 
 in an inflected language, grammat.cal parallehsm often car 
 rie» with it similar terminations. 
 
232 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 in terminal vowels and consonants both 85 ). In 
 the following examples it will be noticed that 
 homeophony is not confined to those grammatical 
 constructions which separate X and Y, but occurs 
 in Oxymoron as well as in Antithesis; and that 
 throughout, particularly in antithesis, the ten- 
 dency is to make the corresponding words (X 
 and Y) homeophonic. 86 
 
 A.T.,V.xiv. Kevordcfyiov fxev yap elSov, fcevoyd- 
 fuov S' ov (part-repetition of word ; assonance, cor- 
 respondence). 
 
 V. xx. Avcttvxg) fjbh iv oh evrvxw (part-repeti- 
 tion; rhyme; correspondence) OTi ere irapcov ira- 
 povo-av o>5 airoBrj/jLovaav opco ( rhyme ; correspon- 
 dence). 
 
 V. xviii. Holov yap oyfrov /jlol 7ro\uTeXe? rj 7roto<? 
 oho? TL/M(i)T€po<; t?}? o-rj<; o^eco? ; (alliteration ; cor- 
 
 88 From the frequency of these figures of balance it must 
 not be inferred that the style of the Greek Romances is 
 uniformly or even prevalently periodic. Short word-groups 
 of the same rank balance as readily as longer combinations 
 of sentence-members of different ranks. In fact, much of 
 the body of the narrative — excluding £i«pp&aret.s, letters, " ora- 
 tions " and other passages in heightened style — is kept arti- 
 ficially simple (a<pe\te ) — often in an attempt to imitate the 
 naive paratactic structure of archaic prose. A. T., I. i : 
 " Sidon is a city on the sea ; the sea is that of the Assyrians ; 
 the city of the Phoenicians is the mother ; the people of 
 the Thebans is the father. ... I behold a picture of land 
 and sea together. The picture is of Europa : the sea is that 
 of the Phoenicians ; the land is that of Sidon. On the land, 
 a meadow and a bevy of maidens. On the sea, a bull . . ." 
 D. and C, I. xiii : " She persuaded him to bathe again, 
 and as he bathed she looked, and having looked she touched, 
 and having touched she praised, and the praise was the 
 beginning of love." There is a close analogy between 
 this archaistic simplicity attained by artifice, and that of 
 our own modern attempts to imitate the prose of the 
 English Bible. The " note " of both is coordinate structure. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 233 
 
 respondence). 'What sweet more dainty than 
 thy sight?' 
 
 VIII. viii. T<ov Bva"rvx°vvT<ov elo-cv, ov twv 
 aSifcovvTcov oi fiaypol (rhyme; correspondence). 
 
 yEth., X. xxix. rot? avveTois aawera (f>6eyyo/iai 
 (repetition ; correspondence) . 
 
 1 To the intelligent I speak the unintelligible.' 
 
 A. T., III. xvi. icaOdpcnov yeyovas aKaOdprayv 
 crcD/jidTav (repetition; correspondence). 
 
 rj roiv <rrr\d<yx v(DV °~ ov ™4>y X-V a ™ v yeyove rpo<f>r} 
 (alliteration; rhyme; correspondence). 'Thy 
 entrails ' sepulture is the robbers' nurture.' 
 
 III. xxv. Z&v pev ovv Aldtoyfr eorl t# rpocjif), 
 
 l .1. ' . L 
 
 airoOavoiV 5' AlyvTTTLOS ttj Tacpy. 
 (Parallel structure; assonance; rhyme; corre- 
 spondence). 
 
 VIII. viii. Siicrjv 8e8a>/cax; ov Se&toicev ( repetition 
 forming group; alliteration between group and 
 outside word). 
 
 II. xxiv. aSo^ivohSvo-rvxeU (rhyme; cor- 
 respondence). 
 
 II. xxii. irapayv ov irdpeifU' 6/jlov be koX (f>evyco 
 teal fievco (repetition; correspondence). 
 
 IV. ix. *fl Sv(ttvx& VP& bWav evTVXV*™^ 1 ' 
 (correspondence; repetition). 
 
 I. xiii. Tac/>09 pev aoi 6 OdXapos, 
 ydfjios S' 6 ddvaTOS, 
 6pr)vo<; 8' 6 v/jLevcuos. 
 (Three clauses parallel in structure; within each 
 of first two clauses, assonance ; between first two 
 clauses, assonance, alliteration, and correspon- 
 dence). 
 'Burial is your nuptial bed; 
 
234 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 your bridal comes now you are dead; 
 
 a funeral wail is the song for you that should 
 have ived! 
 
 The figures of oxymoron, antithesis and home- 
 ophony, which in their beginnings in Greek philo- 
 sophical prose 87 were the natural though studied 
 expression of an essential duality and contrast in 
 the real world, reflecting in words whatever Hera- 
 clitus and Hippocrates and Empedocles saw of 
 the truth of things, have now but too evidently 
 degenerated into mere artifice. Even when they 
 have no substance to express, they continue to 
 flourish rankly, because the rhetorician insists 
 upon contorting and splitting the most innocent 
 idea in order to squeeze a crude contrast out of 
 the twisted fissure. And when, in the Greek Ro- 
 mances, they do express any substance at all, it 
 is the substance of a dismembered fabric of 
 events, persons, and objects, — where disconnect- 
 edness and irrelevancy prevail, where at any 
 moment chance may step in with its abrupt 
 changes and rude negations, and where one thing, 
 instead of leading to its natural consequence, 
 leads to its opposite, or to something that has 
 nothing to do with it at all. Here indeed the 
 loose structure and the flashy style fit each other. 
 The loose structure requires the reader to leap 
 in thought from an X to a Y that is not essentially 
 connected with it: expecting more of X or its 
 consequences, he is suddenly confronted with Y, 
 and his expectation defeated. The flashy style, 
 where X — which the reader never thought was 
 
 87 Sec Norden, op, cit., pp. 17-23- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 235 
 
 Y at all — is said to be Y, or where X and Y — 
 which the reader had been associating — are sud- 
 denly dissociated and opposed, is partly the fitting 
 expression of such cheap relations between things, 
 their irrelevancy, their haphazard connections, 
 their violent severances — and partly deliberate 
 clap-trap. Structure and style alike convey a 
 base view of life and of the function of literature. 
 So far from seeking to unify the divers phe- 
 nomena of life under law, the Greek Romance 
 prefers to keep them apart, in all their chance 
 diversity, showiness, and separate sensuous ap- 
 peal. Law, permanency, consistency, the unity in 
 spirit of that which in matter is so various and 
 contradictory — all this is too sober, too dull. Let 
 us have what is truly interesting ; let us have what 
 moves and jingles and glitters. Let us have the 
 passing show. 
 
 It is as if the Greek Romances were "made to 
 order " for the entertainment of the Renaissance. 
 Their authors, like Virgil, " divined what the fu- 
 ture would love." Hardly any other kind of fic- 
 tion, hardly any other view of life, could appeal 
 more strongly to the sixteenth century novel- 
 reader and novel-writer than the ornate, spec- 
 tacular, rhetorical, sentimental, fortuitous medley 
 which we have been attempting to characterize. 
 The Renaissance, in its uncritical acceptance of 
 everything Greek and Roman as ipso facto clas- 
 sical, felt at liberty to choose according to its own 
 unquiet taste, and thus established and for cen- 
 turies maintained among the canons of classicism 
 
236 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the late works of Alexandria and of the Hellen- 
 ized and Romanized Orient — works which today 
 are perceived not to be classical at all. Among 
 them it chose to admire and to imitate the Greek 
 Romances. What did the Renaissance in England 
 do with this very distinctive body of fiction? 
 What did it make of this great stock of types, 
 motifs and incidents, pictures, models of narra- 
 tive method, patterns of rhetorical device? The 
 following chapters of the present study will at- 
 tempt an answer. 
 
INTERCHAPTER 
 
 Though the material facts concerning Renais- 
 sance translations and editions of the Greek Ro- 
 mances have already been presented in tabular 
 form (ante, pp. 8-10), it may be not superfluous 
 to add some further particulars bearing upon the 
 accessibility of the chief of these Romances to 
 Elizabethan writers, and to characterize briefly at 
 least one of the Elizabethan translations— Day's 
 paraphrase of Amyot's version of " Daphnis and 
 Chloe." 1 
 
 Heliodorus, first printed in 1534 at Basel, ex 
 officina Hervaegiana, with a preface by Opso- 
 poeus, 2 was first translated by Amyot (Paris, 
 1547 3 ; Folio). It was not this French transla- 
 tion, however, but Warschewiczki's translation 
 into' Latin (Basel, 1551), which served as the 
 
 1 Underdowne's Heliodorus, with its errors and quaint- 
 nesses, and its occasional splendor of diction, has been 
 adequately treated in Mr. Whibley's introduction to the 
 " Tudor Translation " reprint. 
 
 2 Whibley, p. xiv ; Script. Erot., p. iii. 
 
 3 Brunet, and Grasse, both s. v. "Heliodorus"; Jacobs, 
 Friedrich, "Einleitung" to his translation, p. 14 n. ; Sandys, 
 II. 195; Dunlop, II. 404; Warren, 58. A second edition, 
 Paris, 1549, mentioned as such by Brunet, Grassy and 
 Jacobs (as above), is said by Lenglet, II. 9, and by Koert- 
 ing I. 26, to be the first; while Whibley, p. xv, dates the 
 first edition 1559- This date is certainly incorrect; the 
 title page of the edition of 1559 (fol.) in the Columbia 
 University Library plainly declares it to be " de nouueau 
 reueue & corrigee," and the license (verso of title-page) 
 calls it " nouuellement reueu, corrige & augmente par le 
 mesme traslateur." 
 
 237 
 
238 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 original of the English version by Thomas Un- 
 derdowne j who " owed no debt to Amyot," but 
 " follows the ingenious Warschewiczki into his 
 every error." 4 
 
 The date of Underdowne's first edition is in 
 doubt. According to the " Athenae Oxonienses " 
 (I. 431-2) it was printed for Henrie Wykes by 
 Francis Coldocke in 1577. But in 1569 Francis 
 Coldocke had already been licensed to publish 
 " the ende of the x th boke of Helioderus Ethio- 
 pium history e " ( Stationers' Register, Transcript, 
 I. 388), — a license which seems to imply that the 
 remainder of the " ^thiopica " had already been 
 printed. On the other hand, Underdowne's ad- 
 dress " To the Gentle Reader " in the edition of 
 1587, would support the later date. " I translated 
 (gentle reader) not long agoe, Heliodorus ^Ethio- 
 pian history, which after I had committed to 
 Maister Frauncis Coldocke, my friend, he caused 
 the same to be published: wherewith (though not 
 well advised) I was well contented, at that time: 
 but nowe beeing by riper yeeres better advised, I 
 am at thy hand forced, to crave pardon of my 
 boldnesse" (U, p. 4). A period of ten years (to 
 1577) might possibly be spoken of as "not long 
 agoe " ; but even that seems rather to stretch the 
 phrase; while eighteen years (to 1569) could 
 hardly be covered by the phrase at all. 5 
 
 4 Whibley, pp. xiv, n., xv. 
 
 9 It seems possible that there was an edition in each of 
 the years 1569 and 1577. If such be the case, may not 
 Underdowne's words to the Gentle Reader, as given in the 
 edition of 1587, have been reprinted from that of 1577? 
 They would then allude only to the period of eight years 
 between the first and the second edition. (Cf. Oeftering, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 239 
 
 The later date (1577) still brings the "^Ethio- 
 pica" into Elizabethan hands in plenty of time. 
 "Euphues" is not yet out; Greene's first piece 
 of fiction will not be licensed till three years later ; 
 Lodge's will not be printed till seven ; Sidney has 
 perhaps begun the " Arcadia " in desultory fash- 
 ion, 6 but will not finish it for several years, and 
 will afterward, before his death in 1586, recast 
 rather more than the first half of it, with the 
 'VEthiopica" full in his view. — As for the sub- 
 sequent edition of Underdowne, in 1587, this, 
 though it comes too late for Sidney, is ready to 
 give Greene a new impulse toward the imitation 
 of Greek Romance. 
 
 In the case of both Longus and Achilles Tatius, 
 translations long precede the editio princeps. 
 Amyot is the pioneer again in publishing a trans- 
 lation of "Daphnis and Chloe," his celebrated 
 French version having been issued in 1559, ten 
 years before the paraphrase into Latin hexameters 
 by Lorenzo Gambara, 7 and nearly forty years be- 
 
 p. 49.) The earlier date (1569) is also supported by the 
 fact that a play based on the " JEthiopica " was performed 
 at Court in 1572-3. The Revels Accounts for December, 
 January and February, 1572-3, mention " ij spears for the 
 play of Cariclia," and " An awlter for theagines." (Feuil- 
 lerat, p. 175.) A still earlier excerpt from Heliodorus 
 appeared, according to Oeftering, p. 92, n. 2, in James San- 
 ford's " Amorous and Tri-gicall Tales of Plutarch, where- 
 unto is annexed the Historie of Chariclea and Theagenes 
 with sentences of the Greek philosophers. London, 1567." 
 Oeftering adds that this was printed by H. Bynneman and 
 dedicated to Sir Hugh Paulet of Hinton St. George, Som- 
 erset ; that the " Historie of Chariclea and Theagenes " is 
 at folios 10-27; and (p. 93) that its title designates it as 
 " Gathered for the most part out of Heliodorus a Greeke 
 Authour." 
 
 8 Cf. Dobell, p. 74. 
 
 7 Jacobs, J., Introd., pp. xv, xxx. 
 
24O THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 fore the princeps of 1598. (" Florentiae, Apud 
 Philippum Iunctam. MDIIC.") 8 Annibal Caro 
 had, to be sure, made a translation into Italian 
 prose in 1538-40; but this was not published until 
 1784, after a disappearance of more than two 
 centuries. 9 
 
 The Elizabethan version of " Daphnis and 
 Chloe " by Angel Day was published in the same 
 year as the current edition of Underdowne — 1587 ; 
 and, like the latter, it entered at once into the 
 work of the versatile Greene. It was too late to 
 touch Sidney, who had died the year before. In 
 fact, Sidney's " Arcadia " does not show the least 
 sign of acquaintance either with the version of 
 Amyot, or with " Daphnis and Chloe " in any 
 other form. 
 
 Day paraphrased Amyot's translation, adding 
 and omitting, expanding and abridging, as he 
 pleased. Textual particulars of his treatment of 
 Amyot are given in Appendix A (post, p. 465) ; 
 it may be well to notice here one or two of his 
 more striking changes in the text, as well as 
 some of the literary characteristics of his ver- 
 sion. For, in a way, his " Daphnis and Chloe " 
 is itself a piece of Elizabethan prose fiction. 
 
 Obvious at sight is Day's omission of the 
 Proem, — an omission which took from the Eliza- 
 bethan reader Longus's explanation of his pas- 
 toral as a series of pictures illustrated by appro- 
 priate feelings. Equally obvious is Day's removal 
 
 8 I have seen Ben Jonson's copy, now owned by a private 
 collector. 
 
 9 See Caro's "Opere" ("Classici Italiani "), Milano, 1812. 
 Vol. 7 ; prefatory matter by Francesco Daniele (p. xxxii). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION *4 1 
 
 of nearly three quarters of the original Third 
 Book to the beginning of his Fourth, and his in- 
 sertion, instead, of " The Shepherd's Holiday," a 
 dull pastoral of his own in praise of Queen Eliza- 
 beth. But of the liberties Day took with the text 
 of his original perhaps the most interesting is his 
 filling of the lacuna in the First Book. 10 As is 
 well known, this was not authentically rilled till 
 1809, when Paul Louis Courier transcribed from 
 a MS. in the Benedictine Abbey 11 at Florence the 
 missing passage, which he had discovered upon 
 a previous visit, probably in 1807. The story of 
 how, after transcribing the passage, he blotted the 
 MS. page, and of the furious controversy that 
 ensued, is one of the curiosities of literature. 12 
 He had in Day a canny though not an authentic 
 predecessor. The textual notes in Appendix A 
 (post, p. 465) show how ingeniously Day drew 
 from the passages after the lacuna most of the 
 matter with which he filled it, and how he made 
 guesses at the rest. 
 
 With the spirit of " Daphnis and Chloe" Day 
 took even greater liberties than with the letter. 
 Longus, and Amyot after him, are " simple and 
 sensuous " ; they draw their persons and their 
 scenes with the pure Greek outline, as well as 
 
 10 Mr. Joseph Jacobs, though he notices the attempts of 
 later translators (p. xxx) to fill this celebrated lacuna, has 
 apparently not observed Day's own interpolation. 
 
 11 In 1832 the MS. was in the Laurentian Library (Fried- 
 rich Jacobs, " Vorrede " to his translation of " Daphnis 
 and Chloe," p. 14). I examined it there July 1, 1910. 
 
 12 See Courier's " Lettre a M. Renouard sur une tache 
 d'encre dans une copie de Longus" (1810), and authorities 
 cited by Mr. Joseph Jacobs, pp. xix-xxii. 
 
 17 
 
242 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 with the full Greek range of definite sensations. 13 
 I have spoken of the effect as one of richness in 
 simplicity. 14 Now where Longus and Amyot are 
 simple, Day is composite. To Chloe's plain chap- 
 let of pine he must add "all sortes of flowers," 
 and when Chloe is likened to a nymph, he must 
 liken her not only to a nymph, but also to Leda 
 and to Io (A 29; Da 35-6) ; Amyot's " l'humeur 
 de la fontaine " becomes in Day " the ouerflowing 
 waues with Cristall humor" (A 8; Da 8-9). 
 When Amyot says that Daphnis saw Chloe, Day 
 speaks of him as " fastening his earnest lookes on 
 her admirable beuties," and " wholie confused by 
 Loue the force whereof distilling amaine within 
 him, had wrought to his most secret entrailes" 
 (A 29; Da 35-6). Day is thus continually forc- 
 ing the note, — overdoing both Longus's objective 
 descriptions, of which he blurs the clear outlines, 
 and Longus's accounts of the children's iraOos, 
 which he sentimentalizes. 15 He further compli- 
 cates the simplicity of his original with fine writ- 
 ing, 16 ink-horn terms, 17 and antitheses, 18 and with 
 
 18 Ante, p. 168. M Ante, p. 169. 
 
 " A 28, " le travail . . . baigner," a total of ninety-three 
 words on the children's symptoms of love, becomes, at Da 
 33-4, " And werisomness of the painefull trauel . . . their 
 chiefest ease " — more than three hundred words. 
 
 18 A 65 : " ta Chloe reviendra demain." Da 72 : " Thy 
 Chloe, or ever the faire Arora next shall have quite vailed 
 of her purple cover powdered with glimpsing stars, . . . 
 shalbe againe returned unto thee." Da 99 : " Nowe the 
 purple covert of Jupiters segniory, beganne to take hold in 
 the element, etc." (not in A). 
 
 17 Da 11: " Frustrate was his body of garments " (not 
 in A). 
 
 18 Da 34 : " Contentment reposed it selfe uppon their 
 deepest disquiet, and from their greatest miscontentment 
 sprang uppe againe their chiefest ease" (not in A). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 243 
 
 adventitious matter the nature and extent of 
 which may best be shown by an extract. The 
 words in brackets are not in Amyot (pp. 7-8). 
 Da 8-9 : " There was a certaine great caue, stand- 
 ing in a rocke, [sacred sometimes to the N implies 
 and therefore] called by the name of the Nimphes 
 Caue, something crooked within, but altogether 
 round without. In the inward part whereof were 
 divers statues of [Goddesses and other] Nimphes, 
 wrought [finely] out of stone, the feete unshod, 
 the armes all naked, [and th' atire buckled on] 
 the shoulders, their haires cast onely upon their 
 necks, without tressing at all; girded they were 
 upon their loynes, their lookes [sweetly] smiling, 
 and their counternaunces such, [as seemed with 
 interchangeable favors in delicate sorte to greete 
 eache other]. Right under the hollowe rising of 
 this caue, sprang in the middest of the bottom a 
 [sweet] fountaine, which [raising it selfe, with 
 a soft bubling,] gathered into a [pleasaunt 
 springe] (ruysseau, A 8), wherewith the fresh 
 and fruit full grenes [round about the same] were 
 [continually] watered. Ouer the mouth of the 
 caue, where the [overflowing waves with Cristal] 
 humor had wrought [from the earth sondrie 
 kindes of flowers and] hearbs of delicate vewe, 
 hong divers flutes, Pipes, and Flagiolots, made of 
 reedes, which the auncient shepheards had [often 
 tofore-time] sacred [unto the Nimphes ]for [their 
 greatest] offrings." 
 
 But Day is not only overloaded and composite 
 where Longus and Amyot are simple: he is 
 meagre, generalized and vague where they are 
 
244 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 rich in specific sensations. He not only doubles 
 or breaks their sharp outline ; he dulls it by nar- 
 rowing his range of sensuous impressions. In- 
 stead of their one clear image, he presents several 
 vague images, each one blurred by his omission 
 of, say, sound or odor from the description, or 
 by his running off into conventional mythological 
 verbiage of little or no descriptive force. Of 
 Philetas's piping (A 76), so full of distinct 
 sounds, Day says (84-5) that it was "handled 
 with such perfection, as all that he plaied, you 
 would have thought almost to have beene a thing 
 in deede effected, whether it were in actions be- 
 longing to the feeding and garding of all kinds of 
 beasts, which in sundrie orderly times he diversly 
 had expressed, or in any sort otherwise." He 
 thus generalizes and puts in the alternative what 
 his original gave specifically and distinctly. The 
 varying sounds of the sailors' song and chorus, 
 with its echo as the boat passes the headland and 
 the bay (A 101) he greatly weakens (Da 125) ; 
 and the passage on the coming of spring, with 
 the piping of shepherds, the bleating of flocks, 
 and the song of the nightingale, becomes abso- 
 lutely dumb under his hand (A 92, Da 124). 
 The dead dolphin, with its most ancient and fish- 
 like smell, he omits altogether (A 104 ff.), — 
 and it may be spared, perhaps; but so does he 
 omit the fragrance of the fruit from Longus's 
 lovely idyll of the golden apple (A 115 ff. ; Da 
 134-5). As for the sensation of heat, he thinks 
 to suggest it by saying that "Titan having 
 wound hym selfe in the Crabbe, drewe fast to 
 the Lions cabbin" (Da 38; not in A). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION. 245 
 
 Add to all this that Day's version often blun- 
 ders away from the plain meaning of Amyot's 
 French ; 19 that, far more than Longus and Amy- 
 ot, it emphasizes ridiculous and even contempti- 
 ble aspects of rustic manners and character; 20 
 that it altogether omits irony from the denoue- 
 ment; that it suffers from the Renaissance lues 
 Fortunae, the disease of magnifying to excess the 
 agency of Fortune, 21 and that it adopts towards 
 the two children an attitude half tender, half 
 patronizing, but wholly foreign to its original; 22 
 and you have some of its distinguishing charac- 
 teristics as a piece of Elizabethan prose fiction. 
 Its antitheses, overloaded ornament, sentimental 
 "psychology," and lues Fortunae tempt one to 
 sum the matter up by saying that Day handled 
 the matter of Longus in something like the man- 
 ner of Achilles Tatius. 
 
 The editio princeps of Achilles Tatius was 
 
 "Where A says (p. 8) that the nymphs' statues looked 
 " comme si elles eussent balle ensemble," Da (8-9) trans- 
 lates "seemed ... to greete eache other." In the same 
 passage he translates " crease " by " crooked " (A 7, Da 8). 
 A's " vignes du vignoble de Metelin " (42) become in Day 
 (50) "the vines of Vignenoble in Mitilene," as if "vig- 
 noble" were a geographical proper name. The account of 
 the relative functions of Fortune and Providence at A 142 
 is hopelessly muddled by Day (148). 
 
 20 Lamon's greediness, Da 7; Myrtale's simple-minded 
 question, ib., 8 ; Dryas's " clubbish condition," ib., 10 ; Dor- 
 con's holiday finery, ib., 22, 23-4 (part of Day's interpola- 
 tion) ; Dorcon's stratagem, ib., 29. 
 
 31 Da 98, 99, I5i, 153, 153-4- Cf. ante, p. 123 n. 7. 
 
 23 A 11: "les envoyerent tous deux aux champs garder 
 les bestes." Da 13: "dispatched the two darlings of the 
 earth to their severall heards." A 11: " Ces deux jeunes 
 enfans." Da 14: "These Images of Beautie." Da 15: 
 " these seemely portraictures of well pleasing youth " (not 
 in A). 
 
246 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 printed at Heidelberg, " ex officina Commelin- 
 iana," in 1601 ; 23 but, like Longus, Achilles Tatius 
 had appeared in translation many years before. 
 In 1544 Annibale della Croce (Hannibal Cruc- 
 ceius) published at Lyons a Latin version of the 
 last four books; in 1554, at Basel, a more com- 
 plete version. 24 In 1546 Lodovico Dolce pub- 
 lished at Venice the last four books in Italian, 
 under the title "Amorosi Ragionamenti," — the 
 publisher (Gabriele Giolito) declaring that the 
 author's name was unknown, " unless perchance 
 it be that Clitophon in whose person these dis- 
 courses are told," and that the fragment had 
 reached his hands " without its beginning and 
 without its end." 25 He was of course mistaken 
 as to the end. Angelo Coccio's complete (?) 
 translation into Italian was published in Venice 
 in 1560 (reprinted there in 1563 and 1568, and 
 in Florence in 1598 and 1599) ; 26 and in 1568 
 (Paris) appeared a French version "par B. Co- 
 mingeois," who may be Belleforest. 27 
 
 The first English translation is that of William 
 Burton, 1597, now existing in a copy probably 
 unique, concerning which the owner, Mr. A. T. 
 Porter, of London, has favored me with the fol- 
 lowing particulars : " Burton translates the whole 
 eight books. ... I have read the whole work 
 through twice, and parts of it many times, [and] 
 I have detected no omissions or insertions; in 
 
 38 W. Schmid, in Pauly-Wissowa, I. 246-7 ; Lenglet, II. 6. 
 
 24 W. Schmid, ibid. 
 
 " Copy in Columbia University Library, fol. 2V, 3r. 
 
 89 Lenglet, II. 78. 
 
 81 Ibid. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 247 
 
 fact, I think, its almost immediate suppression is 
 proof of the faithfulness of the translation. It is 
 a charming specimen of Elizabethan prose." 28 
 
 Burton's translation came too late to affect 
 " Euphues," Greene, or Sidney ; Nash published 
 no prose fiction after "The Unfortunate Trav- 
 eller" in 1594; Lodge none after "A Margarite 
 of America" in 1596 (written 1592). It would 
 seem that Burton's late appearance and imme- 
 diate suppression cut him off from the influ- 
 ence which he must otherwise have exercised 
 upon a reading and writing public so fond of 
 Achilles Tatius's vein. But, as has just been 
 seen, Latin, French and Italian translations were 
 accessible long before the publication of " Eu- 
 phues " ; and, as will abundantly appear from 
 internal evidence, Greene and Sidney knew their 
 " Clitophon and Leucippe " thoroughly. 
 
 38 For a detailed account of this volume, see Appendix C. 
 
PART TWO 
 
 ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 John Lyly 1 
 
 The connection between Lyly and Greek Ro- 
 mance rests partly upon proof, and partly upon 
 probable conjecture. There is proof that the plot 
 of " Euphues " is derived from Boccaccio's tale 
 of " Tito and Gisippo " (Decam., X. 8) . There is 
 probable conjecture, by such authorities as Wil- 
 helm Grimm, Erwin Rohde, and Gaston Paris, 
 that Boccaccio's tale is indebted to a Greek origi- 
 nal. This indebtedness may be secondary, by way 
 of the Old French poem " Athis et Prophilias," 
 which is known to be one of the sources of " Tito 
 and Gisippo " and which is believed to be derived 
 from a late Greek Romance now lost; or it may 
 be primary, — several of Boccaccio's tales (see 
 post, p. 370) showing clearly that he was in con- 
 tact with Greek fiction. But whether primary or 
 
 1 In " Campaspe," I. i, 64 f., 70 f., there is a probable allu- 
 sion, and in " Mother Bombie," I. i, 26 ff., an unmistakable 
 allusion, to the "^Ethiopica." " Euphues," however, shows 
 no traces of the influence of Heliodorus. 
 
 In " Gallathea " I. i, 28-34, the antithetical description 
 of the flood is unmistakably from A. T., IV. xii. But 
 " Euphues " gets nothing from Achilles Tatius, except pos- 
 sibly some traits of style (see post, p. 256 n. 3). 
 248 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 249 
 
 secondary, the transmission of specific elements 
 from Greek Romance to Boccaccio, and from 
 Boccaccio to Lyly, is almost certain. 
 
 From Boccaccio Lyly takes not only narrative 
 material, but narrative technique as well : the di- 
 vision of similar material into similar stages and 
 scenes — its "articulation"; and the employment 
 of pathos, of soliloquy, and of dialogue. In 
 both " Euphues " and " Tito and Gisippo " a 
 young stranger sojourning in a city becomes the 
 friend of a young citizen, who is betrothed to a 
 girl of great beauty and noble birth. To her the 
 citizen introduces his friend, who falls in love 
 with her at sight. The new lover retires to his 
 chamber, and in a soliloquy determines that his 
 love must prevail over his friendship. During his 
 lovesickness, the citizen visits him, inquires the 
 cause of his distress, and offers his own services. 
 The stranger dissembles his love. — So far the two 
 stories are the same, both in material and in con- 
 struction; but here they part company. Boccac- 
 cio's is a tale of true friendship : — the stranger at 
 length acknowledges his love and the citizen sur- 
 renders to him his betrothed. Lyly's is a tale of 
 fickleness in love, and of friendship betrayed: — 
 the stranger continues to dissemble, covertly wins 
 the affection of his friend's betrothed, becomes 
 her acknowledged lover, and is later jilted for his 
 pains. But it is safe to say that Lyly took the 
 beginning of his story, with its evolution and ar- 
 ticulation, from Boccaccio ; and it is difficult not to 
 think that he also took a hint for his continua- 
 tion : let the stranger go on dissembling, and po- 
 etic justice will require that he be jilted. The 
 
250 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 derivation of " Euphues " from "Tito and Gi- 
 sippo" is confirmed by numerous verbal par- 
 allels. 14 
 
 If, now, Boccaccio got either this narrative 
 material or this narrative technique, mediately or 
 immediately, from a Greek Romance, then it will 
 be certain that Lyly, at one or more removes to 
 be sure, also inherited the Greek legacy. That 
 Boccaccio did learn the lesson of narrative form 
 from Greek Romance cannot, of course, be dem- 
 onstrated ; but it is quite probable ; and, as far as I 
 know, there is no reason why it should not be true. 
 
 The discussion of Boccaccio's source requires 
 us to consider various versions of the mediaeval 
 " Legend of Two Friends." The table on pages 
 258 ff. shows the material and its articulation (as 
 far as it has any) in each version; and shows, 
 too, the striking difference between "Athis et 
 Prophilias " and all the other versions before 
 Boccaccio. This is a difference in kind. The 
 other versions are excessively bald and jejune. 
 " Athis et Prophilias " is rich in matter, and 
 highly developed in narrative art. In it, and in 
 
 la S. L. Wolff, " A Source of Euphues " (Modern Philol- 
 ogy, April, 191 0), gives the proofs in full. M. Feuillerat 
 ("John Lyly," pp. 34 n. 2, 74-5, 274-5) asserts that the 
 love-story in " Euphues " is autobiographical. The passage 
 in Forman's diary upon the strength of which M. Feuillerat, 
 almost without argument, makes this assertion, is, to say 
 the least, unconvincing. But even supposing the material 
 of the love-story to come from Lyly's life, the form of it — 
 its articulation, pathos, soliloquy, dialogue — comes from 
 Boccaccio. Mr. J. D. Wilson's convincing article, " Euphues 
 and the Prodigal Son " (The Library, October, 1909), does 
 not negative my conclusions. It demonstrates, rather, that 
 one strand more of literary tradition, besides those already 
 recognized, enters into the composition of " Euphues." 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION. 25 1 
 
 it alone, is there any descriptive " setting " 
 (Athens and Rome), any division of the plot 
 into stages and scenes, any attempt at character- 
 ization by means of dialogue, soliloquy, or pathos. 
 It is evidently Boccaccio's chief source. 2 When 
 it differs from his other source, — the " Disciplina 
 Clericalis " — Boccaccio prefers " Athis et Proph- 
 ilias" in all but three cases (*in the table). 
 Perhaps it would be truer to say that the story in 
 the "Disciplina" differs chiefly from "Athis et 
 Prophilias " in being so crudely told as simply 
 not to offer Boccaccio the narrative material and 
 articulation that he wants. Boccaccio, then, tak- 
 ing from the " Disciplina " several details towards 
 the end of his story, takes nearly everything else 
 from " Athis et Prophilias " ; takes, indeed, those 
 very details of articulation and pathos, — the visit 
 to the betrothed, the soliloquy, the conflict between 
 love and friendship, the inquiry, the dissimulation, 
 etc., — which later, Lyly gets from "Tito and 
 Gisippo." 
 
 In all probability these details— conventions 
 they almost seem to be — come from a lost Byzan- 
 tine novel. Grimm ("Kleinere Schriften," Vol. 
 Ill), concluding his discussion of the Second 
 Part of "Athis et Prophilias" (a regular romance 
 of chivalry, not here tabulated), remarks (pp. 
 269-270) : " Der erste Theil dagegen [the Part 
 we are here concerned with] zeigt die vornehmen 
 und iiberfeinerten Sitten des griechischen Kaiser- 
 thums, ausseres Geprage und zur Schau getra- 
 
 * Landau's and Lee's treatments of the sources of De- 
 cameron, X. 8, quite fail to do justice to "Athis et 
 Prophilias." 
 
252 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 gene Tugenden"; and (p. 274) " Ich vermuthe, 
 die urspriingliche Quelle dieses ersten Theiles ist 
 eine neugriechische Bearbeitung der Sage von den 
 beiden Freunden gewesen, abgefasst etwa im 
 elften Jahrhundert . . . Eine Spur des ver- 
 mutheten byzantinischen Werks aufzufinden habe 
 ich mich jedoch vergeblich bemuht." 
 
 Gaston Paris ("La Litt. fr. au Moyen Age," 
 §51) is quite certain that "Athis et Prophilias " 
 has a Greek original: " ... A partir des croi- 
 sades, les rapports des Francs avec les Grecs 
 devinrent directs, et plusieurs romans, qui n'ex- 
 istent plus en grec, mais que difTerents indices 
 nous permettent de reconnaitre comme byzantins, 
 furent mis en francais sans passer par le latin, et 
 sans doute grace a une transmission simplement 
 orale. Tels sont. . . . Athis et Porphirias [sic: 
 this is one form of the name] par Alexandre de 
 Bernai ... ; la deuxieme partie de ce tres long 
 poeme parait une suite d'aventures de pure in- 
 vention : la premiere est un conte grec dont nous 
 avons diverses formes {une entre autres dans le 
 Decameron de Boccace)." 
 
 And Rohde ("Der Gr. Rom.," p. 541, n. 2) 
 thinks that Boccaccio may have been in im- 
 mediate contact with the Greek. He queries: 
 "Ob nicht fur seine Darstellung der Sage von 
 Athis und Prophilias, Decam. X 8, Boccaccio ein 
 mittelgriechisches Gedicht benutzt haben mag, 
 welches zu dem uns erhaltenen altfranzosischen 
 Gedicht iiber diesen Gegenstand eine Parallele 
 bildete?" 
 
 Upon the possible existence of a Greek original 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION. 253 
 
 a curious light is shed — a light which may per- 
 haps be only the light of a will-o'-the-wisp, — by 
 Goldsmith's version of the tale (see last column 
 of table). This differs in so many particulars 
 from every other version with which I am ac- 
 quainted, that it may quite possibly be derived 
 from some source other than " Tito and Gisippo." 
 Goldsmith, whether truly or falsely, professes that 
 it is " Translated from a Byzantine Historian." 
 The table shows sufficiently its plot and struc- 
 ture. Some details, however, seem worth com- 
 ment. ( 1 ) The story opens as follows : " Athens, 
 long after the decline of the Roman Empire, still 
 continued the seat of learning, politeness, and 
 wisdom. Theodoric, the Ostrogoth, repaired the 
 schools which barbarity was suffering to fall into 
 decay, and continued . . . pensions to men of 
 learning. ... In this city, and about this period, 
 Alcander and Septimius were fellow students 
 together. . . . Alcander was of Athens, Septi- 
 mius came from Rome." The historical setting, 
 then, is consistently placed within Byzantine 
 times. (2) When Septimius, who had been on 
 the point of dying for love of Alcander's be- 
 trothed, Hypatia, was at length married to her, 
 " this unlooked for change of fortune," says the 
 story, " wrought as unexpected a change in the 
 constitution of the now happy Septimius " — a 
 trait of style quite characteristic of Greek Ro- 
 mance. (3) Further emphasis is thrown upon 
 Fortune by the lack of emphasis upon friendship. 
 As Septimius does not recognize Alcander until 
 the latter has already been cleared by the con- 
 
254 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 fession of the real murderer, Septimius does not 
 accuse himself to save his friend, and there is no 
 generous contest between them as to which shall 
 die to save the other. (4) Alcander's retreat to 
 a tomb is in the vein of Greek Romance (cf. 
 " Habrocomes and Anthea," and " Babylonica"). 
 (5) So is Alcander's being sold into slavery (cf. 
 Leucippe's enslavement). (6) That one friend 
 should actually sit in judgment upon the other, 
 and, without recognizing him, be about to con- 
 demn him to death, is again the characteristically 
 bizarre final trial scene of Greek Romance (cf. 
 Chariclea, restored to her father, and, unrecog- 
 nized, condemned to death by him). (7) The 
 points where Goldsmith professes to have 
 abridged his original are precisely those at which 
 diffuseness would have been characteristic of 
 Greek Romance. "It would but delay the nar- 
 rative to describe the conflict between love and 
 friendship in the breast of Alcander on this oc- 
 casion. ... In short, forgetful of his own 
 felicity, he gave up his intended bride." This 
 points backward to long soliloquies, and long 
 psychological analyses of his " conflicting emo- 
 tions." Later, when he was prosecuted by Hypa- 
 tia's kinsmen, " his innocence of the crime laid to 
 his charge, and even his eloquence in his own 
 defense, were not able to withstand the influence 
 of a powerful party." This points backward to 
 the long forensic harangue which, if Goldsmith 
 really used a Byzantine original, might well have 
 been there. Finally, after Alcander's escape from 
 Thrace, "travelling by night, and lodging in 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION. 255 
 
 caverns by day, to shorten a long story, he at 
 last arrived in Rome." This points backward to 
 a Reiseroman. All three of the matters which 
 Goldsmith perhaps abridged — analysis of emo- 
 tion, forensic harangue, and the moving accidents 
 of travel — are just the kind of thing that is 
 actually found in excess in Greek Romance. 
 Either Goldsmith had made so thorough a study 
 of this genre as to be able to put his ringer ac- 
 curately upon its characteristics, and to modify 
 accordingly (when he wished to manufacture an 
 imitation) the material he found in some non- 
 Byzantine version, or — he was telling the truth. 
 There is nothing inherently improbable in the sup- 
 position that while reading widely for one of his 
 hack Histories, Goldsmith did come across this 
 tale in some " Byzantine Historian." 
 
 This rather complicated discussion, which has 
 wandered far from Lyly, may now be recapitu- 
 lated : 
 
 (a) Lyly's "Euphues" gets its earlier portion 
 — both narrative material and narrative structure 
 — from Boccaccio's " Tito and Gisippo." 
 
 (b) Boccaccio's "Tito and Gisippo" gets this 
 same narrative material and narrative structure 
 from "Athis et Prophilias." 
 
 (c) "Athis et Prophilias" probably gets its 
 narrative material and narrative structure from a 
 lost Greek Romance. At least, so think Grimm 
 and Gaston Paris. 
 
 (d) Besides using "Athis et Prophilias," Boc- 
 caccio may have been in immediate contact with 
 
2$6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 its Greek original, and may have derived directly 
 therefrom some of this narrative material and 
 narrative structure. At least, so thinks Rohde. 
 
 (e) The Greek original of "Athis et Prophi- 
 lias" and of "Tito and Gisippo," or another 
 Byzantine version of the same theme, may have 
 been used by Oliver Goldsmith. 
 
 On the whole, it seems easier to believe than 
 not to believe that " Euphues " is one of a series 
 of tales the conventions of whose structure are a 
 tradition from Greek Romance. 3 
 
 s It is rather a temptation to think that Lyly's style, 
 " Euphuism," owes something to that of the Greek Ro- 
 mances. I have, however, found no direct evidence on 
 this point. The similarities, striking as they often are, can 
 probably be explained as due to the general diffusion of 
 Ciceronian and late Greek rhetoric throughout Europe 
 during the Renaissance. To this rhetorical material the 
 Greek Romances undoubtedly contribute ; but it would be 
 difficult to say just what. Nevertheless the following pas- 
 sages suggest Achilles Tatius rather specifically. 
 
 Euphues, I. 322-3 : " If it were for thy preferment and 
 his amendment, I wish you were both married, but if he 
 should continue his folly whereby thou shouldest fal from 
 thy dutie I rather wish you both buryed." (Antithesis: 
 marriage and burial.) 
 
 Euphues, I. 210. Euphues soliloquizes: "The wound that 
 bleedeth inwarde is most dangerous, . . . the fire kept close 
 burneth most furious, . . . the Ooven dammed up baketh 
 soonest, . . . sores having no vent fester inwardly . . ." 
 Cf. A. T., II. xxix ad fin (cf. III. xi ; VII. iv). 
 
 Euphues, I. 201: "And so they all sate downe, but 
 Euphues fed of one dish which ever stoode before him, the 
 beautie of Lucilla." Cf. A. T., I. v(Clitophon at first sight 
 of Leucippe cannot eat. but makes his meal of contemplat- 
 ing her beauty). V. xiii (Melitta makes her meal of con- 
 templating Clitophon). 
 
 Euphues, I. 208 : Euphues retiring love-sick to his cham- 
 ber, " Amiddest therefore these his extremityes between 
 hope and feare," soliloquizes. Cf. A. T., II. xxiii (Clito- 
 phon in Leucippe's chamber) and cf. VI. xiv (Clitophon in 
 prison). 
 
iS 
 
a S 8 
 
 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Oliver Goldsmith : 
 
 Septimius and A I' 
 
 cander. In The 
 
 Bee, No. i, 1759. 
 
 V^ 
 
 V 
 
 
 V 
 
 V 
 
 Lyly : Euphues. 
 1578. 
 
 ^>^ 
 
 A a Nea- 
 politan 
 °Ban 
 
 Athenian 
 
 •0 >, 
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 © 
 
 
 
 
 
 Sir Thomas Elyot : 
 
 The Governor. 
 1531. Ek. II, ch. 12. 
 
 V X ^ 
 
 
 V 
 
 V* 
 
 V V 
 
 Boccaccio : Decam. v 
 X. 8: Tito and ^>^» 
 Gisippo. 1353. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Athiset Prophilias. 
 Circ. 1200. 
 
 v> 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 El Cavallero Cifar. 
 Early 14th Cent. 
 
 ^ v - 
 
 
 
 V* 
 
 
 Nicolaus Perga- 
 menus : Dialogus 
 
 Creaturarum, 
 13th or 14th Cent. 
 
 " De duobus sociis, quorum unus concessit alteri 
 ^ sponsam suain uxorem." 
 
 Thomas de Cantim- 
 
 pre : De Proprieta- 
 
 tibus Apum. After 
 
 1251. 
 
 V^ 
 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 Gesta Romanorum 
 
 (Acknowledges 
 
 Disc. Cler. as 
 
 source). 
 
 W 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 
 Petrus Alphonsus : 
 Disciplina Cleri- 
 calis. Circ. 1106. 
 
 v4§ 
 
 5 -*3 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 Two Friends. 
 
 One is a citizen (A), the other a 
 stranger (B). 
 
 A an Athenian, B a Roman. 
 
 Their fathers are old friends ; B's 
 father sends B to A's father. 
 
 A and B resemble each other physi- 
 cally. 
 
 B goes to Athens to study philos- 
 ophy. 
 
 A marriage has been arranged for A. 
 
 A's betrothed is of high birth and 
 station. 
 
 A opposed to marriage, lest it im- 
 pair his friendship with B. 
 
 B's first sight of A's betrothed comes 
 about through A's taking B to 
 see her. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 259 
 
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 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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 Ss-ss-J 
 
 S3 w en to ._ I f^ -^ cj 
 
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CHAPTER II 
 
 Sir Philip Sidney 
 
 In view of the detailed discussion, in the pres- 
 ent chapter, of the plot, motifs and narrative 
 structure of Sidney's " Arcadia/' it seems well to 
 give here a rather full analysis. 1 
 
 Main Plot 
 
 A. Basilius, the aged King of Arcadia, receives in 
 Delphos an Oracle (mentioned, I. iii-iv, 12-16; given 
 in full II. xxviii, 225V.), which declares that his 
 elder daughter shall be stolen from him and yet not 
 lost; that his younger shall embrace an unnatural 
 love; that their husbands shall plead at his bier 
 though he be not dead; that a foreign prince shall 
 sit on his throne; and that, before all this, Basilius 
 shall commit adultery with his own wife. To avoid 
 fulfilment of this oracle, he retires to the forest 
 with his family, leaving as regent his faithful coun- 
 cillor Philanax. His younger daughter Philoclea 
 he keeps in his own lodge guarded by himself and 
 his young Queen Gynecia; his elder daughter Pa- 
 
 1 References containing chapter-numbers, e. g., " I. xvii, 
 75V.," are to book, chapter and folio of the Quarto of 1590. 
 After folio-numbers, "v." indicates verso; its absence, 
 recto. 
 
 References not containing chapter-numbers, e. g., " IV. 
 419," are to book and page of the Folio of 1627. 
 
 Cross-references within the analysis are based on the fol- 
 lowing system : portions of the Main Plot are lettered A, B, 
 etc. ; portions of the Previous History of the Princes are 
 lettered a, b, etc. ; Episodes are numbered 1, 2, 3, etc., with 
 subdivisions lettered a, b, etc. 
 
 9$f 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 263 
 
 mela he commits to the guardianship of his chief 
 shepherd Dametas, who lives in another lodge with 
 his wife Miso and daughter Mopsa. All men of 
 rank are forbidden access to the princesses (I. ix, 
 
 36)- 
 
 B. (I. xiii-xiv, 57-64V.) Pyrocles, Prince of Mace- 
 don, having fallen in love with the picture and de- 
 scription of Philoclea, disguises himself as an 
 Amazon and betakes himself to the neighborhood 
 of Basilius's lodge. The King, in love with the fair 
 Amazon at sight, asks her to remain. Gynecia pene- 
 trates Pyrocles's disguise, and falls desperately in 
 love with him. Though she is jealous of her 
 daughter, her love prevents her disclosing her dis- 
 covery. His name as the Amazon is Zelmane. 
 
 C. (I. xviii, 76V -79V.) Musidorus, Prince of 
 Thessalia, and Pyrocles's cousin and friend, beholds 
 Pamela, and falls in love with her. Not long there- 
 after Pyrocles finds him disguised as a shepherd. 
 His shepherd's weeds he has bought from the 
 herdsman Menalcas, who, he feels, must now be 
 put out of the way, lest he betray him. So 
 Musidorus says he is a fugitive from Thessaly, 
 where by chance he has killed a favorite of the 
 Prince; and he sends Menalcas to Thessaly with a 
 letter to his friend and servant Calodoulus osten- 
 sibly inquiring about the chances for his return, but 
 really directing Calodoulus to detain Menalcas, as a 
 prisoner, and treat him well. (For Calodoulus as 
 deus ex machina, see V. 417, ed. 1627.) 
 
 Upon the occasion of the annual pastoral games 
 (I. xix, 80V.-85V.), he offers his service (and a 
 sum of money) to Dametas, feigning himself to 
 have been recommended to D. by his elder brother 
 the shepherd Menalcas, and by his father, both dead. 
 His own name, he says, is Dorus. Dametas agrees 
 
264 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 to take him if he that day prove acceptable to the 
 King. A lion attacking Philoclea is killed by Zel- 
 mane; a bear attacking Pamela is killed by Dorus. 
 The King willingly grants Dorus permission to re- 
 main with Dametas. Thereupon they all go to hear 
 The First Eclogues. 
 
 Both Gynecia and Basilius (II. i, 100, ioiv.) make 
 a declaration of love to Zelmane. Dorus pretends 
 to court Mopsa in order really to court Pamela (II. 
 ii, 104V.-107V.), who gives him such signs of favor 
 as to encourage him to tell her the story of his 
 life (II. iii, 109V.-111), purporting to be the story 
 of Musidorus, a prince of Thessaly. He ends his 
 very brief recital (of the early portions of a, and 
 of d) by asserting that the Prince is disguised as a 
 shepherd for love of the Princess Pamela, and that 
 the end of his story is not yet, but belongs to the 
 destinies and to astrology. 
 
 When the two sisters are abed together (II. v, 
 121-122V.), Pamela confesses to Philoclea her love 
 for Musidorus, whose indirect self-revelation and 
 courtship she has of course understood without let- 
 ting him see that she has done so, or giving him 
 any mark of favor. On the morrow (II. vi, 125V., 
 II. x, 147V.) she calls him to give an account of 
 the parentage and early life of Pyrocles and Musi- 
 dorus. He relates a, lapsing once (f 137) into the 
 first person, to his confusion and Pamela's amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 D. (II. xi, 147V.-155) The princesses bathe in the 
 river Ladon. A water-spaniel [see I. xi, 49 (2b)] 
 which has been playing among the reeds, runs off 
 with Philoclea's glove; and leads Zelmane to his 
 master Amphialus, who in his solitary wanderings 
 has chanced upon this spot, and been taken captive 
 by the charms of his cousin Philoclea. Zelmane in 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 265 
 
 a jealous fury forces him to fight, and wounds him 
 in the thigh, promising that her near kinsman 
 Pyrocles shall further uphold that quarrel. The 
 Princesses now being dressed come up and recog- 
 nize their cousin. He excuses himself, restores the 
 glove, and retires to nurse both his wounds. 
 
 Pyrocles reads Plangus's plaint for Erona (II. 
 xii, 1 56-1 58V.), as written down by Basilius when 
 Plangus recently passed through Arcadia. At his 
 request (II. xiii, 160-162V.) Philoclea tells 50 (which 
 Pyrocles knows already, as he has been a chief 
 actor in these events) ; and he calls upon Pamela 
 to tell the story of Plangus; but is interrupted (II. 
 xiv, 163-166) by Miso with an account of an em- 
 blematic picture she once saw of Love as a monster, 
 and by Mopsa with a clumsy fairy-tale. Philoclea 
 having induced Mopsa to reserve the ending of the 
 tale (II. xv, 166-172), Pamela tells 6a. She is just 
 coming to the story of Antiphilus's treason to Erona, 
 when Basilius comes in, and again puts off the con- 
 clusion. Basilius commissions Philoclea to plead his 
 cause (II. xvi, 172V.-175V). 
 
 Pyrocles-Zelmane is lamenting on Ladon's bank 
 and writing his plaint on the sand, when Philoclea 
 finds him (II. xvii, 176-179V.) and begins Basilius's 
 plea. He interrupts her with his own, reveals his 
 love, and is assured of hers. He also declares his 
 name and rank. At her request, he then takes up 
 the narrative of the adventures of Pyrocles and 
 Musidorus, from the point where Musidorus left 
 off a (II. x, 147) and where Philoclea herself had 
 suspended the account she had received from Plan- 
 gus, 5a (II. xiv, 162V.). Pyrocles's continuation is b. 
 
 E. Pyrocles having finished his narrative (II. 
 xviii-xxiv), Philoclea resumes Erona's story (II. 
 xxiv, 212), but he interrupts her with his love mak- 
 
266 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ing, and Miso interrupts with scolding and threats. 
 
 Gynecia (II. xxv, 213-214) has just had an ill- 
 boding dream, when Miso tells her that Zelmane 
 and Philoclea have been together alone. Love and 
 jealousy conflict in Gynecia's heart; she soliloquizes, 
 and, hastening to the young people, sends Philoclea 
 away to Basilius. Gynecia is beginning to declare 
 her passion to Pyrocles (II. xxv, 214V.-216), when 
 a rout of drunken and rebellious clowns comes up 
 and attacks them. Pyrocles keeps the rebels at bay 
 until the ladies have made good their retreat to the 
 lodge. Musidorus comes to his cousin's assistance, 
 and together they perform prodigies of valor. 
 
 The populace attack the lodge with axe and fire 
 (II. xxvi, 216-220) ; Zelmane goes out, mounts the 
 throne near the gate, and in a long and eloquent 
 harangue brings them to the point of submission. 
 At this (II. xxvii, 220-224), one Clinias, a sly, 
 plausible fellow with a smattering of education and 
 a gift of words, who has been an actor, who is now 
 Cecropia's tool to stir up sedition in Arcadia for 
 the advancement of her son Amphialus, and who 
 indeed has incited this very insurrection, sees his 
 chance to swim with the stream; he loudly admon- 
 ishes the insurgents to lay down their arms, and 
 behave as he and other faithful subjects have all 
 along advised! 
 
 A certain young farmer, who has become enam- 
 ored of Zelmane, has hopes that if the insurgents 
 win, Zelmane will be granted to him. Now he 
 strikes Clinias a great wound upon the face, — who 
 scrambles to the throne and is protected by Zel- 
 mane. At the farmer's blow, the mob is in an 
 uproar. Every man's hand is against his neighbor; 
 the leaders are soon killed, the farmer among them; 
 and Zelmane, Basilius and Dorus complete their 
 rout. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 267 
 
 Clinias now accounts for the insurrection as 
 merely a piece of drunken folly, the result of the 
 people's excessive potations the day before in honor 
 of the King's birthday. He is believed and dismissed. 
 Basilius sends to Philanax for a conference, and 
 to other noblemen to investigate the insurrection. 
 (II. xxviii, 224-227) Clinias hurries away to warn 
 Cecropia that the investigation bodes danger to her, 
 and that she had better take some speedy resolution. 
 Basilius contemplates returning to public life, as he 
 considers that the most threatening portions of the 
 oracle— the text of which he now (225V.) for the 
 first time gives Philanax (and the reader)— have 
 already been happily fulfilled: princely Zelmane by 
 occupying his mind has taken from him the care of 
 his elder daughter Pamela, who yet is not lost; his 
 younger has come to love Zelmane at his command, 
 but that love was hated by Nature— viz., by Gynecia's 
 natural jealousy; the sitting in his seat he dreams 
 already performed by Zelmane when she mounted 
 his throne to confront the insurgents; the adultery 
 he hopes to commit with Zelmane, whom afterwards 
 he will have to wife. As for his daughters' mar- 
 riage to such dangerous husbands— that he will pre- 
 vent by keeping them unmarried. So he sings a 
 Hymn to Apollo, bids the shepherds prepare for 
 rural pastimes, and relates to Zelmane (II. xxix, 
 227V -233V.) the story, so long deferred, of Eronas 
 distress (5b). The shepherds open their "Second 
 Eclogues." 
 
 (III. i, 244-247V.) Moved by Musidorus s recent 
 danger, Pamela gives him signs of her love; by 
 which encouraged he offers to kiss her. She puts 
 him away in deep disdain and offense. Despairing 
 he retires to the forest. m m 
 
 [Now follows the long Episode of the Captivity: 
 8 The Main Plot is afterwards resumed in the 
 
268 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Folio of 1627, which is not divided into chapters; 
 so that the absence here of references to chapters 
 will suffice to show that the citation is from this 
 edition.] 
 
 Book III 
 
 F. (347-350) After Basilius has received his 
 daughters and Zelmane back from their captivity 
 (see 8), and has returned to his retirement at the 
 lodges, Zelmane and Dorus tell each other their ad- 
 ventures ; and the latter discloses a plan that he and 
 Pamela have formed to elope from the nearest sea- 
 port, and remain virgin till he can invest her with 
 the Dukedom of Thessalia. The Princes, with much 
 courtly protestation of friendship, resolve to part. 
 
 Zelmane (351-354) on her way to Dorus's lodg- 
 ing enters a cave, and perceives a lady lying pros- 
 trate in a corner and dolefully soliloquizing. In the 
 course of her lament, the lady names herself: it is 
 Gynecia ! Zelmane hastily retreating makes a noise 
 and is discovered. Gynecia holds Zelmane back, 
 pleads for love, declares that she has penetrated 
 Pyrocles's disguise, and threatens that if he still 
 disdains her, her vengeance shall involve Philoclea 
 as well as him and herself. Pyrocles decides that 
 his only course is to yield. 
 
 Meanwhile (355-6) Musidorus has hired a ship 
 at the port, and a carriage to go there: all that re- 
 mains is to get Dametas, Miso and Mopsa out of 
 the way. To Dametas he tells a tale of one Aristo- 
 menes's treasure which he has partly unearthed, at 
 a place ten miles away in a direction opposite that 
 of the seaport: there are rich medals, and a cypress 
 chest, and, further down, a stone whose hollow 
 sound promises a still richer vault. Thither Da- 
 metas betakes himself, and is duly encouraged by 
 finding the medals with which Musidorus has " salted 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 269 
 
 the mine." To Miso (357-9), as soon as her hus- 
 band is gone, Musidorus tells how he has seen 
 Dametas dallying with a pretty shepherdess Charita. 
 They have made an assignation for that very night 
 in Oudemia Street, Mantinea ! Off hurries the jealous 
 shrew. Now for Mopsa, — whom Musidorus would 
 readily tie up if Pamela did not say No. So he tells 
 Mopsa (360-361) that Apollo, after his servitude 
 to Admetus, having been received back by Jupiter 
 from the top of a neighboring ash tree, has made it 
 a wishing tree. Whoever in the state of a shepherd 
 will sit in this tree, muffled in a scarlet cloak, shall 
 have his wish, as sure as Musidorus loves Mopsa! 
 He leaves her perched on the tree-top, so muffled 
 that she can not undo the cloak, and so high that she 
 can scarce get down without help. There she is to 
 remain till a voice calls her three times: then she 
 is to answer boldly. 
 
 The lovers (361-5) ride off through the forest, 
 till Pamela, tired out, rests her head on Musidorus's 
 knee and falls asleep. While he contemplates her 
 charms a crew of clownish villains comes shout- 
 ing in. 
 
 Pyrocles in the cave with Gynecia (365-7) con- 
 fesses himself a man and a Prince, acknowledges 
 his love for Philoclea, but feigns that it can not 
 compare with his passion for Gynecia; who gives 
 a half promise that her daughter shall be the price 
 of his complaisance. This Pyrocles promises, and 
 then draws Gynecia from the cave lest she insist 
 upon an immediate consummation. 
 
 Pyrocles muses (372-4) all night how to rid him- 
 self of his two unwelcome lovers, till he begins to 
 see the outlines of a stratagem. At dinner that day, 
 in the presence of both King and Queen, he gives 
 such signs of favor that the King (375~377) asks 
 
270 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the Queen to look after Philoclea, who has taken 
 to her bed in despair at Pyrocles's pretended aban- 
 donment of her. Alone with Basilius, Pyrocles ap- 
 points that night for a rendezvous in the cave. 
 Then he steps to Philoclea's room, and, still feign- 
 ing indifference toward her, takes Gynecia aside into 
 a bay window and appoints for her the same time 
 and place. Each — both King and Queen — is to make 
 sure that the other is asleep. After supper, which 
 all three hasten through, Gynecia pretends to be 
 unwell, and goes to bed, in order to set Basilius a 
 good example — who is indeed well pleased at her 
 early retirement. But now Pyrocles takes her once 
 more aside (37&-380), and as if by way of after- 
 thought, suggests that she may with greater ease 
 be first in the cave ; she is to take his outer garment, 
 let she rouse suspicion; he himself, muffled in her 
 garments, as a sick woman might plausibly be, will 
 lie by Basilius's side until the King sleeps, and then 
 will steal away to the cave and to her. Confused 
 by the suddenness of the plan, and his quick offer 
 of his outer garments, and induced by the thought 
 that the grantor must be allowed his own way of 
 granting, she yields, giving him, as is needful, the 
 key of the lodge, — the object of his stratagem. 
 So Pyrocles lies down in the King's bed with head 
 and face hidden. Gynecia happening upon an old 
 love-philtre, which she has never used, now pours 
 it into a jewelled cup to make sure of Pyrocles, 
 and goes with it to the cave, where she lies ex- 
 pectant. Meanwhile Basilius, who has waited in 
 Philoclea's room till Gynecia should be asleep, creeps 
 darkling to his chamber, treading softly, collid- 
 ing with sharp corners everywhere, and in fear at 
 every creak he makes. Where assuring himself 
 that his bedfellow sleeps, he steals forth to the cave. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 2*]1 
 
 He enters the bed and, calling upon the name of 
 Zelmane, embraces her he finds there; who dares 
 not reveal who she is, and so receives him gently. 
 
 As soon as Basilius is gone, Pyrocles bars the 
 gate, (381-387), and fortifies the lodge as well as 
 he can impromptu, in order that his and Philoclea's 
 preparations for escape may not be interrupted. 
 Then he hastens to her chamber, which being open, 
 he overhears her sing two sonnets and speak a 
 soliloquy lamenting his desertion of her and accus- 
 ing him of inconstancy. He enters, hears her direct 
 charge, gives his justification in his plan for their 
 escape together, and upon her still expressing dis- 
 belief falls into a swoon. She repents, but is too 
 weak to endure a journey. Then he realizes his 
 folly in not sooner acquainting her with his device, 
 her sudden knowledge whereof has rendered impos- 
 sible its execution. So he lies down by her side, 
 and they both fall asleep. 
 
 (End of Book III. "The Third Eclogue" follows.) 
 
 Book IV 
 
 Dametas digs all day, until, when he at last turns 
 over the great stone, he finds naught there but a 
 mocking couplet. Returning in disgust and weari- 
 ness (404-409), he finds his house deserted, and so 
 fares forth again at his wits' end. There he beholds 
 Mopsa in her ash tree, and calls her, first joyfully, 
 then impatiently, then with curses ; who at the third 
 call throws out her arms to Apollo, loses her hold, 
 and comes tumbling down. To all his questions 
 about Pamela's escape she keeps repeating her wish 
 to Apollo that a King may be her husband; till 
 Dametas thinks her mad, and lays hands upon her 
 to shake her back to her wits. At this moment 
 arrives Miso, after a vain search for Dametas in 
 
272 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Mantinea — where no such girl as Charita and no 
 such street as Oudemia are known! Finding him 
 with a young woman in his arms, she soundly 
 cudgels them both. Still thinking and talking at 
 cross purposes, the three return to their lodge, and 
 now begin to realize the prospect of serious punish- 
 ment for Pamela's escape. At last Dametas, think- 
 ing that Pamela may have gone to spend the night 
 with her sister, betakes himself to the King's lodge, 
 and, though to his astonishment he finds the gate 
 barred, yet lets himself in at a cellar-door which 
 has escaped the notice of Pyrocles. In Philoclea's 
 chamber he finds the sleeping lovers, takes from 
 the room all weapons, and fast bars the door. Then 
 he bruits abroad what he has seen ; until a shepherd 
 comes running to him crying " The King is dead." 
 In fact (409-416), as morning approaches, Ba- 
 silius has left his wife's side to go to his wife's 
 side. While he stands in the mouth of the cave, she 
 rises and discloses herself to him, and overwhelms 
 him with shame and repentance, but is very willing 
 to forgive his offense. This magnanimity delights 
 him, and the two are perfectly reconciled, when 
 Basilius espies the potion, and despite Gynecia's 
 remonstrances, drinks it off. He falls apparently 
 dead. Gynecia feels herself morally guilty of his 
 death, and recalls her dream (II. xxv, 212V.-213) 
 which she interprets to mean that she too must die. 
 She therefore tries to give herself up a prisoner 
 to the shepherds who soon arrive. For all her con- 
 fessions of guilt they are scarcely prevailed upon 
 to take her into custody. Their lamentations reach 
 the ear of Philanax, who, more resolute, places 
 Gynecia under strong guard. Dametas and Miso 
 too he causes to be imprisoned and flogged for their 
 negligence. He sends out a search for Pamela, and 
 then proceeds to the King's lodge. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 273 
 
 Pyrocles wakes immediately after Dametas leaves 
 the place, and finds himself disarmed and both him- 
 self and Philoclea prisoners (417-426). After a 
 survey of the chamber, he is able to break out only 
 a bar from the window, sufficient for a weapon 
 but not for escape. He hears too the loud voice of 
 Dametas without, proclaiming the disgrace of Philo- 
 clea, and realizes that, according to the Arcadian 
 law, he has brought death upon her. The only 
 alternative he can think of is to kill himself, that 
 she may seem to have killed him in defence of her 
 honor. He does indeed fall upon the iron window 
 bar, which, however, is too blunt to do more than 
 pierce his skin and bruise his ribs. The noise of 
 his fall wakes Philoclea, who runs to him in horror, 
 and implores him to give up his fell intent. He 
 tells her why he has chosen this course, and the two 
 discuss suicide. At last, upon her threat that if he 
 kill himself she will kill herself too, he consents to 
 live, announcing, however, that he expects her to 
 support his assertion that he came thither to violate 
 her chastity but failed, and to withhold his real 
 name, for the honor of his house. Both are now 
 taken into custody by Philanax. 
 
 The boors who (III. 365) waked Pamela are 
 those remnants of the Arcadian rebels who did not 
 submit but retired to hide in the forest. They now 
 recognize Musidorus as having made such havoc 
 among them during their revolt, and (4 2 7~433) 
 Pamela as a valuable means whereby to purchase 
 their peace with the King. Accordingly they cap- 
 ture the lovers, whom they decide to return to 
 Basilius. Next day, Musidorus has almost suc- 
 ceeded in persuading their captors to go along with 
 them to Thessalia and gain great reward, when the 
 whole party meet a troop of Philanax's horsemen, 
 
 19 
 
374 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 and the boors' present fears overcome their cupid- 
 ity; so that they go forward. But it is to their 
 death. For the horsemen, learning who they are, 
 and desiring for themselves the credit of bringing 
 in Musidorus and Pamela, kill the rebels every one. 
 The prisoners they deliver to Philanax just as Pyro- 
 cles is being taken into custody. Pyrocles breaks 
 from his guards and embraces Musidorus. Phila- 
 nax, in order to sift the matter, has them confined 
 together under surveillance. Pamela claims to be 
 her father's heir, even under the Arcadian law that 
 a female heir must be either twenty-one or mar- 
 ried; for, she says, she is married. But Philanax 
 confines her in the lodge with Philoclea. 
 
 Now arises great dissension (434-438) as to the 
 polity and the ruler to be chosen for Arcadia; amid 
 all of which Philanax moves quietly onward to his 
 purpose of bringing the King's murderers to jus- 
 tice. Timautus, an ambitious nobleman, whose pro- 
 posal that Philanax shall marry one of the Prin- 
 cesses and he himself the other has been scornfully 
 rejected by Philanax, attacks him openly in a speech 
 to an assemblage of the nobles. While Philanax 
 is answering, news comes of a fresh insurrection. 
 Kalander, seeing the Princes imprisoned, has been 
 by his old love and admiration for them fired with 
 desire not only to set them free, but to commit 
 Arcadia to their rule. He has persuaded the citi- 
 zens of Mantinea to support his enterprise. Phi- 
 lanax considers the uprising so dangerous as to 
 warrant him in secretly removing the Princes, even 
 in having them killed at once. But their custodian, 
 Simpathus, will not consent to either course. Thus 
 the day ends in tumult. The shepherds begin their 
 Eclogues at sunset. 
 
 (End of Book IV. "The fourth Eclogue" follows.) 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 375 
 
 Book V 
 
 In the midst of these troubles (444-453), Evar- 
 chus, King of Macedon, father of Pyrocles and 
 uncle of Musidorus, arrives with a troop of twenty 
 horsemen, purposing to visit his old friend Basil- 
 ius. But hearing of the King's death, he sends 
 to Philanax, offering to remain and take part in 
 the funeral. In the arrival of this King, renowned 
 for his justice even more than for his victories, 
 Philanax sees the salvation of Arcadia. To him he 
 will commit jurisdiction. Evarchus is to sit in 
 judgment the very next day. To this the assem- 
 blage agrees, only Timautus opposing, whom the 
 mob thereupon attacks with sticks and stones, so 
 that with the loss of an eye he is forced to see!: the 
 protection of Philanax. Evarchus consents to take 
 jurisdiction of the cause in hand; and with Philanax 
 rides to the lodges, where the people, who are still 
 assembled though it is late at night, receive him 
 with acclaim. After addressing them and setting 
 the trial for the morrow, he bids them retire. 
 
 That night (453-458) Gynecia spends in painful 
 thoughts and dreams; the Princesses in mutual con- 
 fidences and in writing letters to their prosecutors; 
 the Princes in protestations of friendship, in depre- 
 cation of each other's sorrow, in declaration that 
 their loves were worth all this grief and more, in 
 high thoughts of the life to come, and in a brave 
 sonnet against the fear of death. Kalander has 
 brought them their princely garments, which they 
 don. Just before dawn they fall asleep, and sleep 
 until their summons comes. 
 
 The trial begins (458-463). Evarchus clad in 
 black sits upon Basilius's throne, which has been 
 placed in the midst of the green; the people about 
 it, all silent and orderly; the King's body on a bier 
 
2*]6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 before it; and Philanax as prosecutor. The Prin- 
 cesses, it is decided, need not be sent for. Gynecia 
 is led forth first, ill-apparelled and dejected; then 
 come the two Princes, most splendidly arrayed, and 
 with erected countenances. As Musidorus passes 
 among the Arcadians, he harangues them in favor 
 of Pamela, for he does not know that she is not to 
 be tried; and as soon as Pyrocles stands before the 
 judge he pleads for Philoclea, again taking upon 
 himself whatever blame may be supposed to rest 
 upon her, and begging to know what is to be her 
 fate. Evarchus at once decides that she is to be a 
 life-long prisoner "among certaine women of re- 
 ligion like the Vestall Nunnes"; whereat Pyrocles 
 rejoices, both that her life is safe, and that none 
 else shall ever enjoy her. When Philanax is open- 
 ing his case against the Queen, she stops him and 
 repeats her confession. Thereupon Evarchus con- 
 demns her to be buried alive with Basilius. 
 
 Next (464-472) the Princes are arraigned, and 
 their denial of the Arcadian jurisdiction is over- 
 ruled. Philanax then inveighs against Pyrocles; 
 and Pyrocles answers, telling the truth, except that 
 he shields Gynecia by declaring that he told her of 
 her husband's assignation with Zelmane, and sent 
 her to the cave to take Zelmane's place. That ex- 
 plains, too, the Queen's wearing Zelmane's garment. 
 He demands a trial by combat with Philanax, who 
 is willing; but Evarchus refuses to grant it. 
 
 The court proceeds to try Musidorus (472-475). 
 Philanax inveighs against him. Musidorus replies, 
 reminding the court of the service he and Pyrocles 
 have rendered against the insurgents, and suggest- 
 ing finally that the way out of the difficulty is to 
 marry the Princesses to the Princes. 
 
 Evarchus now gives judgment (475-477). Both 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 277 
 
 the question of jurisdiction and the questions of 
 fact he decides against the Princes. Finally he 
 sentences Pyrocles to be thrown from a tower, and 
 Musidorus to be beheaded. 
 
 As the Princes are being led away (477-478), 
 Kalander comes rushing up, bringing with him 
 Calodoulus the Thessalian, that friend of Musi- 
 dorus to whom Musidorus sent Menalcas to be de- 
 tained (I. xviii, 79-79V.). Calodoulus has thus 
 been informed of the Princes' whereabouts (the 
 only person so informed except Pamela and Philo- 
 clea) ; and auguring ill of the undertaking, espe- 
 cially when Menalcas told him of Musidorus's 
 disguise, has written to Evarchus and has himself 
 come from Thessaly to Arcadia to do what he 
 can. From Kalander he has just learned of the 
 trial, and has identified the shepherd Dorus as his 
 own Prince. Now he tells Evarchus who the pris- 
 oners are. 
 
 Philanax is mollified (479-481) ; not so Evarchus, 
 who confirms the sentence. Thereupon Musidorus 
 defies his uncle as far as he himself is concerned, 
 but pleads for the life of Pyrocles. Pyrocles gently 
 stops Musidorus's harsh words to Evarchus, and 
 gently begs Evarchus to spare the life of Musidorus. 
 Thus the two continue to vie with each other in gen- 
 erosity; till Evarchus agains commands that they be 
 led away. 
 
 But now (481-482) those near the bier of Basilius 
 hear him groan, and perceive his body stir. He is 
 alive: the supposed love-potion was only a sleeping- 
 draught. Timed for thirty hours, it has kept the 
 weak frame of Basilius rather longer under its 
 influence; but he is quite revived. 
 
 He now sees that the oracle is fulfilled indeed. 
 He sends for Gynecia, asks her pardon, clears her 
 of all charges against her, and with great honor 
 
278 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 restores her to the throne. Pyrocles is married to 
 Philoclea, Musidorus to Pamela. Philanax, Calo- 
 doulus, Kalander, Clitophon, and' Sympathus, are 
 all fully rewarded. — The stories of Artaxia and 
 Plexirtus; of Erona and Plangus; of Helen and 
 Amphialus; of Menalcas and the daughter of Calo- 
 doulus; of Strephan and Klaius; of the son of 
 Pyrocles and Philoclea, named Pyrophilus, and of 
 the daughter of Musidorus and Pamela, named Mel- 
 idora — these some other pen may write: mine is 
 weary. 
 
 History of Pyrocles and Musidorus Before They 
 Enter the Main Plot 
 
 (a) (II. vi, 126-129). Evarchus, King of Mace- 
 don, gave his only sister in marriage to his friend 
 Dorilaus King of Thessalia. Their son was Musi- 
 dorus. The soothsayers at his birth predicting that 
 he should overcome certain Kingdoms, the Kings of 
 Phrygia, Lydia and Crete combined to destroy him, 
 and to that end invaded Thessalia, but were re- 
 pulsed by the aid of Evarchus. Evarchus now mar- 
 ried the sister of Dorilaus, and by her had a son 
 Pyrocles, for whom also there were wonderful 
 prognostications. 
 
 Pyrocles was sent (II. vii, 129V.-133V.) to be 
 reared with his cousin Musidorus. When Evarchus 
 was besieging Byzantium, he sent for the two 
 cousins, now grown friends as well, who prepared 
 a fleet and set sail. A storm scattered the fleet and 
 drove their ship upon a rock. 
 
 (II. viii, 134-138V.) Pyrocles was cast ashore 
 upon the coast of Phrygia, and was quickly taken 
 to the King, a cruel, suspicious tyrant; who learn- 
 ing how his captive came thither and suspecting 
 that the fleet had been gathered against himself, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 279 
 
 made preparations to take his life. Musidorus, 
 rescued by a fisherman of Pontus, heard of his 
 friend's peril, and through a nobleman of that coun- 
 try offered himself in the stead of Pyrocles to be 
 executed. The King, very glad to kill his chief 
 enemy, accepted the offer and set Pyrocles free. 
 In disguise, Pyrocles procured his acceptance as the 
 executioner's assistant, and upon the scaffold ap- 
 peared not only armed himself, but bearing the 
 executioner's sword as well. This he put into Musi- 
 dorus's hand, saying " Die nobly." The two quickly 
 cleared the scaffold, but would soon have been over- 
 powered, if a quarrel between two soldiers had not 
 just then issued in a general riot of the troops. 
 Hereupon the King fled from his post of observa- 
 tion; a rumor of his death went about; and some of 
 the younger nobles cried " Liberty," routed the citi- 
 zens, overpowered the guard, and took possession 
 of the city. The insurgents made Musidorus their 
 chief and crowned him on the scaffold! 
 
 But (II. ix, 139-x, 142) the Princes left Phrygia 
 to seek fresh adventures. In Galatia (II. x, 142V- 
 147) they succored the King (unnamed) and his 
 true-born pious son Leonatus, against his wicked 
 bastard son Plexirtus. (See 4, a and b.) 
 
 In Lycia (II. x, 147-xiii, 162V.) they came to the 
 assistance of Queen Erona, whom (Tiridates) the 
 King of Armenia, aided by Plangus, Barzanes, and 
 Evardes, was besieging. (See 5a.) 
 
 (b) Evardes having been slain by Pyrocles (II. 
 xviii, 181-185), Anaxius, the eldest and proudest of 
 Evardes's three nephews, sought to avenge his death. 
 He challenged Pyrocles to single combat; who ac- 
 cepting departed from Queen Erona and from Mu- 
 sidorus too, that he might try the adventure alone. 
 But Musidorus followed, to be at hand in time of 
 need. On the way, Pyrocles witnessed the adven- 
 ture of Pamphilus (7a). 
 
280 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 After making peace, as he supposed, between Pam- 
 philus and Dido, Pyrocles (II. xix, 185V.-190) rode 
 on to his meeting with Anaxius, who attacked him 
 at once. The combatants broke their lances at the 
 first encounter, then for a while fought with swords, 
 until Anaxius's horse was impaled upon a broken 
 lance. At that both champions dismounting con- 
 tinued to fight on foot, when, Dido passing by as 
 Pamphilus's captive, Pyrocles rode off to her rescue, 
 despite the taunts and jeers of Anaxius and the 
 country folk a 1 , out. This rescue accomplished, he 
 lodged that night at the house of Dido's father, 
 Chremes, whose treachery next day (?b) resulted 
 in Pyrocles being rejoined by Musidorus. 
 
 The King of Iberia, coming thither by chance, 
 stopped the fray and invited the Princes to his court 
 (II. xx, 191-194), where they were presented to his 
 Queen, Andromana. (See 6b.) Andromana fell in 
 love with them both, and scrupled not to show her 
 passion to both, soliciting them openly. But being 
 continually repulsed, she thought to force them, and 
 so upon a false charge that they were plotting to 
 overthrow the Kingdom (as they had done in Pontus 
 and Phrygia) she had them imprisoned, but con- 
 tinued to implore their love. It happened that Pal- 
 ladius, son of the King and Queen, loved his cousin 
 Zelmane (daughter to his mother's half-brother, 
 Plexirtus, who had left her at the Iberian court to 
 avoid the insecurity of his own estate). But she 
 loved Pyrocles, and begged Palladius to have the 
 Princes set free. Palladius pleaded with his mother 
 in vain. But another opportunity favored them. 
 
 In Iberia, jousts (II. xxi, 194V.-198V.) are held 
 each year at the anniversary of the royal wedding 
 day. On this occasion the Knights of Queen Helen 
 of Corinth bade fair to carry off the honors; and 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 28 1 
 
 at length Palladius persuaded his mother to let Py- 
 rocles and Musidorus take part in the tournament 
 for the honor of Iberia. They were sworn to go no 
 further than Palladius went, and to attend him 
 wherever he did go. When, therefore, he rode away 
 from the lists, they went with him unresisted, and 
 made good their escape into Bithynia. But now 
 Andromana sent a troop in pursuit, and herself 
 came with it. The Princes and Palladius easily put 
 it to flight; and Palladius rashly pursued. One of 
 his own subjects — one who had been a favorite of 
 Andromana and was jealous of the Princes — mis- 
 took Palladius for one of them, and slew him. An- 
 dromana stabbed herself on her son's body and died. 
 
 Parting thence (II. xxii, 199-203V.), the Princes 
 learned from the lament of Leucippe the end of the 
 story of Pamphilus. (See fc.) Further on they 
 were overtaken by Zelmane, disguised as a page 
 under the name Daiphantus, who for love of Pyro- 
 cles had followed him thus, and now offered him 
 her services. Not recognizing her, he accepted, and 
 she served him devotedly for two months. On the 
 border of Galatia they witnessed the fatal combat, 
 incited by the wiles of Plexirtus, between his faith- 
 ful friends, the brothers Tydeus and Telenor (see 
 4c) ; and they got the story from the leader of the 
 band which was to have killed whichever brother 
 should survive. 
 
 The news of her father's treachery so smote Zel- 
 mane (II. xxiii, 204-208), that, languishing as she 
 was for love, she now pined away. Her fatal stroke 
 was the further news that her father was in danger 
 of losing his life, unless he were rescued at once. 
 Hereupon she disclosed her identity, confessed her 
 hopeless love, and begged a last boon of the Princes: 
 Pyrocles was to rescue her father, and upon his 
 
282 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 return to Greece was to take the name Daiphantus, 
 in her memory ; Musidorus at the same time was to 
 take the name Palladius, in memory of her hapless 
 lover; and they were to bury her obscurely, not suf- 
 fering her friends to know her fate. Then she died. 
 
 Pyrocles rode off, much against his will, to rescue 
 Plexirtus, leaving Musidorus to help the King of 
 Pontus against Otaves, brother to that Barzanes 
 whom Musidorus slew in defence of Erona (xiii, 
 161). 
 
 Both these adventures the Princes accomplished 
 successfully. Pyrocles set Plexirtus free by killing 
 the monster that was to have devoured him. Musi- 
 dorus slew Otaves's giant allies and took Otaves 
 prisoner, but spared him and made him a friend. 
 
 Then the Princes hastened to take ship (II. xxiv, 
 2o8v.-2iiv.) for Greece. They wished to return 
 to their parents; to resume the interrupted combat 
 with Anaxius (II. xix, i86v.), who sought Pyrocles 
 throughout Peloponnesus, defaming him as he went; 
 and to visit Arcadia, famous for the valor of Arga- 
 lus and Amphialus and for the beauty of its prin- 
 cesses. Their ship was royally furnished by Plex- 
 irtus, who made such professions of repentance and 
 goodwill that they actually began to trust him, and 
 set sail. But when they began to look for land, an 
 old man whom Plexirtus had sent with them as 
 guide disclosed to them that he and the Captain had 
 been commissioned by Plexirtus to murder them in 
 their sleep: thus Plexirtus hoped to gain the hand 
 of Artaxia and her Kingdom of Armenia, which she 
 had promised to whosoever should kill the Princes. 
 When the ship neared Greece, they saw the Captain 
 whisper the old man that the time was come, and 
 the old man try to dissuade him. Thereupon the 
 Captain commanded his crew to take the Princes 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 283 
 
 alive or dead, and, the old man commanding them the 
 contrary, the Captain gave him a blow. Thus the 
 mellay began ; friend and foe indistinguishably fought 
 in that narrow space ; the old man was killed by one 
 of his own side; some of the crew joined to defend 
 the Princes; and a little remnant took to a boat, 
 which others again leapt into and swamped. At last 
 a fire broke out, stopped the fighting, and engaged 
 the efforts of all the survivors. In vain. The Princes 
 leapt overboard. Pyrocles finding the Captain cling- 
 ing to a floating mast, killed him, and bestrode the 
 mast himself. 
 
 [Here the "Arcadia" opens, in mediis rebus.] 
 
 (c) On the coast of Laconia (I. i, 1-6), Pyrocles 
 and Musidorus escape from the burning ship. Musi- 
 dorus, cast ashore and revived by the shepherds, sails 
 out to rescue Pyrocles, who is found riding a mast. 
 Just then pirates frighten off the rescuers, and take 
 Pyrocles. Musidorus gives up the rescue perforce. 
 
 (d) Musidorus is conducted by the shepherds to 
 Arcadia (I. ii, 6-iv, 18), where Kalander, a gentle- 
 man of that country, entertains him under the name 
 Palladius, and tells him A. 
 
 Kalander now hears (I. v, 18-24) that his son 
 Clitophon, who is about to be married, has been 
 taken prisoner by the Helots, then in revolt against 
 the Laconians. To account for Clitophon's partici- 
 pation in that fight, Kalander's steward tells Musi- 
 dorus ia. 
 
 Musidorus and Kalander head an expedition (I. 
 vi, 24-28) to rescue Clitophon. By M.'s direction 
 the Arcadians disguise themselves as rebellious peas- 
 ants, and, placing chains upon the gentlemen of 
 their army, offer to make common cause with the 
 Helots. These, in the absence of their leader, admit 
 the Arcadians to Cardamila, their city, where the 
 
284 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 gentlemen are soon released and lead an attack from 
 within the walls. In this fight the Helots are about 
 to be worsted, when their leader Daiphantus (= Py- 
 rocles) returns, rallies them, and confronts Musi- 
 dorus, whose helmet he strikes off. Thereupon he 
 recognizes his friend and declares himself. 
 
 (e) Pyrocles is kept in the hold by the pirates 
 (I. viii, 34-35V.) until they are hard pressed by a 
 Laconian galley, when they arm him and other pris- 
 oners, promising them liberty as a reward for a good 
 defense. In the fight Pyrocles kills the commander 
 of the galley, but is himself taken, and lodged in 
 prison at Tenaria. The revolting Helots make a 
 jail-delivery and release him. His valor in several 
 minor combats leads them to choose him, under the 
 name Daiphantus, to their leadership, just left va- 
 cant by the slaying of Demagoras. (See ia.) Here 
 he gains so many victories that he is able to nego- 
 tiate a very advantageous peace with the Spartans. 
 These negotiations are what cause his absence at the 
 time of the Arcadian attack upon Cardamila. But 
 at the critical moment he returns, rallies the Helots, 
 and fights with Musidorus until he strikes off his 
 friend's helmet and recognizes him (d ad fin.). The 
 fight is stopped (I. vi, 26-28). Pyrocles persuades 
 the Helots to give up Clitophon and Argalus, who 
 return with the Princes and Kalander to the latter's 
 house. There they all witness lb. 
 
 (/) Musidorus and Pyrocles now (I. viii, 33-35) 
 tell each other d and e respectively, thus bring- 
 ing their adventures up to the moment of the narra- 
 tion itself; and Musidorus repeats A for the benefit 
 of Pyrocles, at the same time showing him the pic- 
 ture of Philoclea on the wall of a pavilion in Ka- 
 lander's garden. Kalander at Pyrocles's request also 
 gives him information about A. With this and with 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 285 
 
 the picture, Pyrocles falls in love (I. ix, 35V.-38; I. 
 xn 'i> 57) J partly confesses his passion to Musidorus, 
 and takes occasion of a hunt (I. x, 40) to slip away 
 secretly to the Arcadian court. [He thus enters the 
 Main Plot, at #.] 
 
 A letter which he leaves for Musidorus (I. x, 
 40V.-41V.) tells only that he goes because of love, 
 but tells not whither. Musidorus and Clitophon de- 
 part to seek him. 
 
 In the valley they find the scattered pieces of a 
 suit of armor (I. x, 42-43V.), which Clitophon rec- 
 ognizes as that of his cousin Amphialus. Musidorus 
 puts it on. Soon they are attacked by the armed 
 escort of a coach, and valiantly defending them- 
 selves, kill or rout their assailants. They find in 
 the coach a beautiful lady (Queen Helen of Corinth) 
 gazing intently upon a picture (that of Amphialus). 
 Addressing Musidorus by the name of Amphialus, 
 she begs him to end her woes. He discloses him- 
 self and asks her to tell her story. She relates 2a 
 (I. xi, 44-48). 
 
 Scarcely has she concluded, when Ismenus, Am- 
 phialus's page, dressed in Musidorus's armor, attacks 
 Musidorus (I. xi,48v.-49v.) for wearing Amphialus's 
 armor. Clitophon recognizing Ismenus, explains 
 matters and ends the attack. Ismenus promises to 
 return his master's armor as soon as he dare venture 
 to approach him. He relates 2b. Queen Helen pro- 
 ceeds on her journey, attended by Clitophon. Musi- 
 dorus continues his quest. 
 
 After traversing Laconia, Sicyonia, Corinth, Elis 
 and Achaia (I. xii, 50-56V.) he returns to Arcadia, 
 for he remembers that Philoclea's picture recalled 
 to Pyrocles his old love (Zelmane). And there he 
 finds him disguised as an Amazon. His remonstrance 
 against such an ignoble course, and more generally 
 
386 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 against women and love, almost brings on a quarrel ; 
 but soon the cousins resume their friendship, and 
 Pyrocles (I. xiii, 57-xiv, 64V.) gives an account of 
 his love affair up to the time of the actual narration : 
 B. He begs Musidorus to remain concealed in an 
 arbor private to Pyrocles, in order that Pyrocles may 
 receive his counsel and help, and show him Philo- 
 clea. As Pamela is with Philoclea, Musidorus sees 
 her too, and falls in love with her. [Thus he too 
 enters the Main Plot, at C] 
 
 Episodes 
 1. Argalus and Parthenia 
 
 (a) (I. v, 19-24) Argalus, a knight of Cyprus and 
 cousin to Queen Gynecia, accompanies her to the 
 Arcadian court, where he becomes the friend of 
 Clitophon and is by him presented to Parthenia, 
 Clitophon's cousin. Argalus and Parthenia fall in 
 love, but Parthenia's mother favors a wealthy suitor, 
 Demagoras, and does all she can to thwart Argalus. 
 After her death, Demagoras, realizing that his suit 
 must fail, rubs poison on Parthenia's face, and spoils 
 her beauty. Though Argalus remains faithful, she 
 will not consent to his sacrificing himself, and, de- 
 clining to marry him, secretly escapes. Banished 
 for his crime, Demagoras becomes leader of the 
 rebellious Helots. In their chief city Argalus seeks 
 him out, slays him, and is captured. Clitophon leads 
 an expedition to rescue his friend, but is taken him- 
 self. The two are kept safe from the vengeance of 
 the Helots by the influence of the latter's new leader 
 ( Daiphantus = Pyrocles ) . 
 
 (b) (I. vii, 31-33) Argalus is released as a result 
 of Kalander's expedition, and is taken to Kalander's 
 house. There appears a lady closely resembling 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION ^87 
 
 Parthenia. She declares that she is a kinswoman of 
 Queen Helen of Corinth, and that she bears Par- 
 thenia's dying wish that Argalus and she shall wed. 
 Upon his refusal, she reveals herself as Parthenia 
 indeed, cured by a skillful physician of Queen Helen. 
 Argalus and Parthenia are married (I. viii, 35) at 
 Kalander's house, amid the rejoicing of the noble 
 guests. 
 
 (c) (III. xii, 290-295) Amphialus, having taken 
 the princesses captive and being besieged by Basil- 
 ius, defeats many of Basilius's knights. At length 
 Basilius sends for Argalus, who at once leaves his 
 nuptial bliss at the call of honor. After a terrible 
 combat he receives a mortal wound. Parthenia 
 comes too late to do aught but receive his last words. 
 He is buried with military pomp ; she, inconsolable, 
 vows to follow him. 
 
 (d) (III. xvi, 308V.-311V.) Disguised as "The 
 Knight of the Tomb" she challenges Amphialus, 
 who after a short and one-sided combat wounds her 
 mortally. She dies calling the name of Argalus, and 
 is buried in his tomb with great pomp and lamen- 
 tation. 
 
 (Their epitaph, not given in the ed. of 1590, is 
 given at p. 288 of the ed. of 1627.) 
 
 2. Amphialus and Queen Helen 
 (a) (I. xi, 45-48) Amphialus, son of Basilius's 
 younger brother (unnamed), and of the unworthy 
 Cecropia, Princess of Argos, was reared by Timo- 
 theus, a great Corinthian lord, with whose son 
 Philo'xenus he formed a close friendship. When 
 Philoxenus courted Queen Helen of Corinth, he in- 
 troduced his friend to her to further his suit. Though 
 Amphialus was faithful to his trust, the Queen fell 
 in love with him, and told him so. Indignant, he 
 
288 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 left her court. Philoxenus coming to woo in per- 
 son heard from her of her preference for Amphialus. 
 He overtook him, and forcing a fight upon him was 
 slain. Timotheus, who presently arrived, fell dead 
 upon his son's body. Overcome with grief, Am- 
 phialus threw away his armor, retired to the forest, 
 and declared undying hatred against Queen Helen, 
 cause of all this woe. She now seeks him that she 
 may die at his hands. 
 
 (b) (II. xi, 153V.-155) In his solitary wanderings 
 he chances upon the spot where Pamela and Philo- 
 clea are bathing in the river Ladon ; he falls in love 
 with Philoclea; his spaniel betrays his presence; 
 Pyrocles wounds him; and Amphialus retires to 
 nurse his wounds. 
 
 (c) (III. xxiv, 342V.-XXV, 346) In consequence of 
 Cecropia's wicked attempt to force Philoclea to marry 
 Amphialus, Amphialus has been sorely wounded by 
 Musidorus, and, now attempting suicide, re-opens 
 these wounds and stabs himself besides. Queen 
 Helen takes his almost lifeless body to be cured by 
 a surgeon of hers at home. 
 
 [Episode left unfinished.] 
 
 3. Phalantus and Artesia 
 
 (a) (I. xv, 66-xvii, 76) Phalantus, a bastard 
 brother of Queen Helen, is as shallow-hearted as he 
 is brave and courteous. Returned from the war 
 against the Helots, he fancies himself in love with 
 Artesia. She is really angling for Amphialus, but 
 she, too, is shallow, is not deeply in love with any- 
 one, and is content to accept the lip-worship of 
 Phalantus for the credit it brings her. Desiring that 
 her fame may reach Amphialus, she entraps Phalan- 
 tus into a promise to maintain by challenge the 
 supremacy of her beauty. He has never been over- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 289 
 
 thrown, but has defeated many adversaries and taken 
 from them as prizes the portraits of their ladies, 
 which, to the number of eleven, he bears in tri- 
 umphal procession at the Arcadian court. After 
 he has there unseated several knights, among them 
 Phebilus, who champions the beauty of Philoclea, 
 he is himself at last overthrown by Pyrocles, who 
 disguised as an ill-appareled knight, champions that 
 same beauty. Artesia thereupon leaves Phalantus 
 in scorn, but he is glad of his riddance. 
 
 (b) Later, Artesia acts as Cecropia's tool to en- 
 trap the Princesses of Arcadia (III. ii, 248, 252) ; 
 plots treachery against Cecropia (III. xiv, 301-304) ; 
 and is executed at her command (III. xxi, 332; 
 xxiii, 339). See 8. 
 
 4. The Galatica (Paphlagonica) 
 
 (a) (II. x, 142-146V.) Infatuated by the wiles of 
 his bastard son Plexirtus, the (unnamed) King of 
 Galatia (Paphlagonia) ordered his servants to kill 
 Leonatus, the true-born heir to the throne ; but they 
 spared him and allowed him to escape to a foreign 
 country. There he was just gaining advancement 
 when he heard that Plexirtus had deposed and 
 blinded his father. Leonatus returned to succor the 
 old man, who begged to be led to the top of a high 
 rock, that he might throw himself from it and die. 
 
 His plaint being overheard by the Princes Pyro- 
 cles and Musidorus, engaged their interest. They 
 defended him and Leonatus against an armed troop 
 headed by Plexirtus himself, who came to take his 
 brother's life. With the aid of the new King of 
 Pontus they forced Plexirtus to retreat to a for- 
 tress, where they besieged him. The old King 
 crowned Leonatus and died. Plexirtus surrendered, 
 but dealt with Leonatus so cunningly that he was 
 pardoned. 
 
2$0 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (b) (II. xxii, 201V.-203) Now he plotted to poi- 
 son Leonatus, who in his mistaken piety refusing 
 to kill his father's son, assigned to him instead (that 
 Plexirtus's ambition might find a field elsewhere) 
 his own right to the conquest of Trebizonde. This 
 city Plexirtus's faithful allies, the brothers Tydeus 
 and Telenor, soon acquired for him. But, once 
 seated on the throne, he began to fear them, and 
 plotted to put them out of the way. He told each 
 of them separately and secretly that he had been 
 challenged by the King of Pontus to single com- 
 bat, — a tale which was plausible by reason of the 
 old grudge between the kings. (See II. x, 145 
 supra.) When the appointed day drew near, he 
 feigned himself ill and again secretly and separately 
 requested each brother to go in his place, making 
 each swear to keep the secret even from his brother. 
 And "he told Tydeus, the king would meet him in 
 a blew armour; & Telenor, that it was a black 
 armour; & with wicked subtiltie (as if it had bene 
 so appointed) caused Tydeus to take a black armour, 
 & Telenor a blew; appointing them waies how to 
 go, so as he knew they should not meet, til they 
 came to the place appointed, where each had prom- 
 ised to keep silence . . . ; and there in await he had 
 laied . . . murtherers, that who ouerliued the other, 
 should by them be dispatched." 
 
 Pyrocles and Musidorus came up towards the end 
 of this combat and parted the brothers, but too late 
 to prevent their death. From the chief of the mur- 
 derers, who had attacked the Princes when they 
 first appeared, the Princes learned this story. 
 
 A messenger sought Tydeus and Telenor (II. 
 xxiii, 204V -207V.) to tell them of the danger of 
 Plexirtus, who unless rescued at once would suffer 
 death. The messenger told his tale to the Princes; 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 291 
 
 and Pyrocles, having pledged himself to the dying 
 Zelmane to succor her unworthy father, unwillingly 
 undertook the task. An ancient knight, he learned, 
 whose kinsman Plexirtus had murdered, had now 
 for revenge entrapped Plexirtus in his castle by 
 means of a forged letter purporting to be from 
 Artaxia, in which she promised marriage to Plex- 
 irtus and begged him to come to her in secret. 
 Plexirtus on his way with a small escort had been 
 captured by the old knight, who threatened to de- 
 liver him to a monster, but yet proclaimed that if 
 any so loved Plexirtus as to attempt to slay that 
 monster, Plexirtus should be saved if they suc- 
 ceeded. Pyrocles slew the monster and set Plex- 
 irtus free to practise new villainies. 
 
 For instance (II. xxiv, 209V.), in order to gain 
 Artaxia's hand, and add Armenia to his kingdom, 
 Plexirtus hired the captain and the crew of the 
 vessel on which the Princes were returning home, 
 to murder them both. Thus he hoped to gain the 
 price that Artaxia had set upon the Princes' heads. 
 His expectations were fulfilled: he married Artaxia 
 (II. xxix, 232V.-233) and was crowned King of 
 Armenia. 
 
 [Episode left unfinished; Plexirtus left unpun- 
 ished.] 
 
 5. Erona, Antiphilus, and Plangus 
 
 (a) (II. xiii, 159V.-162V.) Erona, Princess of 
 Lycia, contemning Love, caused Cupid's images to 
 be defaced. He punished her by causing her to fall 
 in love with Antiphilus, her nurse's son. Endeav- 
 oring to dissuade her from this love, in favor of 
 her suitor Tiridates, King of Armenia, her father 
 pretended that Antiphilus had fled the country, 
 pretended to have executed him, etc. Thereupon 
 she made attempts at suicide, which broke her 
 
292 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 father's heart, so that he died, leaving her queen. 
 She was about to marry Antiphilus, when Tiridates 
 besieged her. He was accompanied by his sister 
 Artaxia, and aided by Plangus, Evardes, and Bar- 
 zanes. To the aid of Erona came Pyrocles and 
 Musidorus. Tiridates offered to match his three 
 champions against the two princes and Antiphilus. 
 In the ensuing combat, Musidorus slew Barzanes 
 and Pyrocles slew Evardes, but Antiphilus was 
 taken alive by Plangus. Tiridates gave Erona three 
 days in which to yield to him : otherwise Antiphilus 
 should be beheaded. Meanwhile, if she did herself 
 any hurt, Antiphilus should be tortured. Thus 
 hemmed in, she know not what to do. At length, 
 upon a message from Antiphilus beseeching her to 
 save his life, she sent a message of compliance ; but 
 immediately repented, and sought counsel of the 
 Princes. In ignorance of her previous message 
 they issued from the city, found Tiridates negli- 
 gently guarded, slew him, and brought off Antiphilus, 
 who was soon married to Erona. Artaxia, aided by 
 Plangus to escape, and now Queen of Armenia, "pro- 
 claimed great rewards to any priuate man and her 
 selfe in mariage to any Prince, that would destroy 
 Pyrocles and Musidorus " ; for she considered that 
 her brother had been by them treacherously slain. 
 
 (b) (II. xxix, 227V.-233V.) Soon after Erona's 
 marriage to Antiphilus, his natural baseness, together 
 with the flattery of his courtiers, puffed him up with 
 pride. He began to despise his wife, and feigning 
 that she was barren, purposed a second marriage. 
 He even, in his insolence, made polygamy legiti- 
 mate, and asked for the hand of Artaxia, who hated 
 both him and Erona. Infatuated by her love, Erona 
 assented to all these negotiations, willing even to 
 be second to Artaxia if she might only keep An- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 293 
 
 tiphilus; and she wrote to Artaxia to speed his 
 wooing. Artaxia hid her hatred in order to get 
 them into her power; and appointed an interview. 
 There she took Antiphilus and Erona prisoners, 
 meaning to sacrifice them upon her brother's tomb. 
 Antiphilus weakly begged for mercy; Erona pleaded 
 only for Antiphilus. Her noble bearing, -her beauty, 
 and her affliction now won the love of Plangus, 
 who still in his exile sojourned at Artaxia's court. 
 He declared his love, and Erona desired him to 
 show it by saving Antiphilus. So he tried to- per- 
 suade Artaxia to spare her prisoner, but in vain. 
 Equally vain was his attempt to gather a rescuing 
 army in Lycia: there the throne had already been 
 usurped by the next heir, who had set the Lycians 
 against their queen because of her unworthy match, 
 and who now urged Artaxia to execute her. Fi- 
 nally he arranged with Antiphilus to make possible 
 his escape, but Antiphilus wanted the spirit to carry 
 out the plan : he had a notion that if he disclosed it, 
 he should be pardoned! He did disclose it, and 
 begged for his life again. When Plangus came at 
 the appointed time to deliver Antiphilus, Artaxia's 
 troops were there ready to take Plangus, but his 
 friends among the army kept him safe. As for 
 Antiphilus, the women of that city begged him from 
 Artaxia ; and, mortally hating him for having insti- 
 tuted polygamy, forced him to throw himself down 
 from the pyramid on Tiridates's tomb and so to 
 end his false-hearted life. Plangus gathered his 
 friends, and in an encounter defeated the troops of 
 Artaxia, taking as hostage a son of Tiridates. By 
 threatening to make this nephew of Artaxia suffer 
 the same fate as Erona, Plangus contrived to post- 
 pone Erona's execution. And now it was agreed 
 that Erona was to be placed in the strong castle of 
 a great nobleman for safe-keeping. If within two 
 20 
 
294 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 years after Tiridates's death Pyrocles and Musi- 
 dorus should overcome two champions chosen by 
 Artaxia, Erona should be set at liberty; if not, she 
 should be burned. To this, both sides took solemn 
 oath; Plangus being willing because he knew the 
 courtesy and prowess of those princes, who would 
 surely consent to fight for Erona, but Artaxia being 
 willing because Plexirtus had just informed her that 
 he had caused both the princes to perish at sea. 
 
 Plangus taking leave of the afflicted Erona, who 
 wished only for death to join her to Antiphilus, 
 went to Greece to notify the princes. On the way 
 he intercepted letters from Artaxia to Plexirtus, 
 accepting Plexirtus as her husband and alluding to 
 the Princes' death in such a way that Plangus in- 
 quired further in Laconia, and found that their ship 
 had indeed been lost. He concluded that they must 
 have perished; else their presence would surely be 
 known in Greece. Now came word from Erona's 
 warden, that Artaxia had broken faith and was 
 besieging his castle. He could not hold out long, 
 and begged Plangus to come to his aid, for now 
 that Plexirtus was King of Armenia too and their 
 own party consumed in the war, he felt that he could 
 not resist. Plangus as a last resort determined to 
 ask aid of Evarchus of Macedon, who would cer- 
 tainly wish to avenge the death of his son Pyrocles. 
 On his way, Plangus passed through Arcadia and 
 told his story to Basilius and the princesses. 
 
 (c) (V. 446-448) Plangus moved towards By- 
 zantium, where, he understood, Evarchus after his 
 victorious siege still remained. In fact, Evarchus 
 had undertaken a new enterprise. The Latins were 
 threatening him on the West and he was engaged 
 in making all ready against them. On a progress 
 through Macedon to see that his orders were car- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION *95 
 
 ried out, he met Plangus who had turned to seek 
 him at home. Plangus told him the sad news of the 
 death of Pyrocles and Musidorus, and of Erona's 
 plight. Evarchus swore never to return to Macedon 
 till he had pursued to death the murderers of his 
 nephew and his son, and at once dispatched a ship 
 to Byzantium with orders to the governors to pre- 
 pare for war in the East. On this ship Plangus 
 sailed. But as news now came that the Latins had 
 given up their purpose of war against Macedon, 
 Evarchus himself with a fleet set sail for Byzan- 
 tium. A storm scattered this fleet and cast his own 
 ship upon the coast of Laconia. Learning there that 
 after Daiphantus's departure the King of the Mace- 
 donians had broken treaty with the Helots, and that 
 these, again at war, hated the very name of King, 
 Evarchus sought the nearest place of safety and 
 hospitality, — Arcadia, the realm of his old friend 
 Basilius. 
 
 [Evarchus enters Main Plot. Episode left un- 
 finished.] 
 
 6. Plangus and Andromana 
 
 (a) (II. xv, 166V.-171V.) Plangus, the son of 
 the widowed King of Iberia, had an intrigue with 
 a citizen's wife (Andromana), with whom his father 
 one day found him. But Plangus convinced his 
 father that she was chaste, — indeed, convinced him 
 so thoroughly that he fell in love with her himself 
 and sent Plangus away to the wars. During Plan- 
 gus's absence her husband died, and she so managed 
 the old King that by the time Plangus returned, it 
 was to find her his stepmother and the mother of a 
 son and a daughter by her second marriage. She 
 knew him conscious of her guilt, and moreover she 
 now again solicited him, but in vain; so that she 
 became his bitter enemy and began to plot his ruin. 
 
296 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 To this end she took the help of "a seruant neere 
 about her husband," an ambitious courtier who played 
 on the King's fears and pretended to be himself in 
 fear of Plangus. After many machinations her tool 
 informed Plangus — as was indeed the fact — that his 
 stepmother was conspiring with the King against 
 his life; and offered to take him to a secret place 
 where he might overhear them. Plangus was led 
 thither, armed. When his stepmother knew he was 
 there, she cried and grovelled till the King came, 
 whereupon she told him with feigned reluctance 
 that Plangus had solicited her, and had offered to 
 kill his father and marry her as soon as he should 
 be King. At that, in ran the tool, and besought 
 the King to save himself, for there was one armed 
 in the next room. Plangus was taken prisoner, his 
 father meaning to execute him the next day. But 
 a little army of his friends rescued him, and if he 
 had so chosen, would have given him the crown. 
 Plangus, however, chose voluntary exile at the court 
 of his cousin Tiridates, King of Armenia. 
 
 As an ally of Tiridates, Plangus besieged Erona, 
 after eleven or twelve years of exile. During all 
 this time his father's hatred remained unabated. 
 He sent the tool to poison Plangus; and the villain 
 being apprehended confessed all before his execu- 
 tion. But even this confession sent in writing to 
 the King failed of its effect, for he had so com- 
 pletely resigned his government to his wife that she 
 intercepted the document. And now Plangus's long 
 absence made it possible for her to have Palladius, 
 her son by her second marriage, proclaimed heir to 
 the kingdom. 
 
 (b) (II. xx, 190-xxi, 198V.) But Andromana and 
 Palladius were not destined to prosper. The end of 
 Pyrocles's adventure with Pamphilus and Dido 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 297 
 
 brought the two princes Pyrocles and Musidorus to 
 the Iberian court. Here Andromana fell in love 
 with them, and being repulsed, imprisoned them. 
 Still she allowed them to take part in the tourna- 
 ment upon the anniversary of her marriage ; for 
 Zelmane, who loved Pyrocles and was loved by 
 Palladius, persuaded her lover to gain this favor 
 for her beloved. The Princes took the opportunity 
 to escape with Palladius. They routed the pursuing 
 party sent by Andromana, but in the melee Pal- 
 ladius was slain. Andromana killed herself upon 
 his corpse. 
 
 7, Pamphilus and Dido 
 
 (a) (II. xviii, 181V.-185) Pamphilus was an ac- 
 complished courtier and a conqueror of ladies whom 
 he would deceive and then disdain. When at length 
 he bethrothed himself to one (Leucippe), his former 
 mistresses conspired to punish him. Inveigling him 
 to a lonely spot, they set upon him and bound him 
 with garters, and pricked him sore with bodkins, 
 Dido showing the greatest spite and trying to put 
 out his eyes. Pyrocles, just then passing on his 
 way to fight Anaxius, heard Pamphilus's cries and 
 put to flight all his assailants save Dido. From her 
 he heard this story. When she would have returned 
 to mangle Pamphilus, Pyrocles restrained her; but 
 when certain friends of Pamphilus coming up would 
 have killed her at Pamphilus's request, Pyrocles pro- 
 tected her; so that in the end peace was promised 
 faithfully on both sides, and Pyrocles rode on 
 
 (&) (II. xix, 186-190V.) Dido on her way home 
 with an insufficient guard was again attacked by 
 Pamphilus and his friends, and captured. Bound 
 before him on his horse and beaten by him with 
 rods, she was borne towards her father Chremes s 
 castle, where Pamphilus meant to kill her in her 
 
298 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 father's sight. On their way they passed where 
 Pyrocles and Anaxius were fighting; and, in order 
 to rescue Dido, Pyrocles left the combat despite the 
 jeers of his enemy. He overtook the crew, from 
 whom he quickly liberated her; but Pamphilus es- 
 caped. Dido took Pyrocles to pass the night as the 
 guest of her father, a rich miser. His unwillingness 
 to maintain his daughter had driven her to the pro- 
 tection of Cecropia, which, however, had exposed 
 her to the arts of Pamphilus. Unwillingly admitted 
 and grudgingly received by Chremes, Pyrocles upon 
 Dido's inquiry told his name and estate; whereupon 
 his wretched host, who knew that Artaxia had set 
 a price upon the head of Pyrocles, sent word to 
 the commander of an Iberian garrison near by that 
 Pyrocles would next morning be betrayed into the 
 commander's hands at a certain place of ambush 
 agreed upon. Next day Chremes accompanied his 
 guest to make sure of the success of the treachery, 
 and Dido to prolong her farewell. Pyrocles was 
 attacked and would have been taken but for Musi- 
 dorus, who in his extremity came to the rescue. 
 He had been directed thither by Chremes's neigh- 
 bors, whose hatred had led them to burn his house 
 during his absence, and who knew that Chremes's 
 escort could bode no good to Pyrocles. The combat 
 was ended by the arrival of the King of Iberia, by 
 whose orders the Captain was beheaded and Chremes 
 hanged. Dido, in attempting to save Pyrocles by 
 placing herself between him and his enemies, had 
 been slain. 
 
 (c) (II. xxii, 199-200) Worse than death was the 
 fate reserved for Pamphilus. From the lament of 
 Leucippe, to whom Pamphilus had been betrothed, 
 Pyrocles later learned that the inconstant one had 
 deserted her too, and had married Baccha, an im- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 299 
 
 perious wanton. Pyrocles let him live, considering 
 that to kill him would rather be to spare him the 
 punishment that life with such a woman would in- 
 flict. Leucippe retired to a house of " Vestall 
 Nunnes." 
 
 8. Cecropia; or the Captivity 
 
 (III. ii. 248-250V.) Six pretty country girls in- 
 vite the royal party to attend rural sports at a place 
 in the woods about half a mile from the lodges. 
 Pamela, Philoclea, and Pyrocles (as Zelmane) go 
 to the appointed place, take refreshment, and wait 
 for the " devises " ; instead of which, armed men 
 rush from the woods and take them prisoners before 
 Zelmane can draw. Their captors place them on 
 horseback and carry them to a castle upon a high 
 rock in the midst of a lake, — the castle of Cecropia, 
 who receives them with mock courtesy at the gate. 
 They are placed in separate lodgings. 
 
 Cecropia, going to her son Amphialus, who is still 
 in bed tending the wound that Pyrocles gave him 
 (II. xi, 154), tells him who are her captives. As 
 he knows nothing of her wicked devices, he begs 
 her to tell him the whole story. She complies 
 (250V.-252V.) : 
 
 Basilius lived unmarried till he was nearly three 
 score, and led everybody to believe that he never 
 would marry. So his younger brother (unnamed) 
 was regarded as heir to the throne of Arcadia, and 
 as such obtained the hand of Cecropia, daughter of 
 the King of Argos. As Princess-Apparent she re- 
 ceived great homage; and in this felicity her son 
 Amphialus was born. Just when the couple had 
 laid a plot to shorten the life of Basilius, her hus- 
 band died. She still had much honor as mother of 
 the new heir. But soon Basilius married Gynecia, 
 then a young girl, and brought her to queen it over 
 
300 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Cecropia; nor was this all, for now the birth of 
 Basilius's daughters cut off all hope of the throne 
 for Amphialus, and stripped Cecropia of her honors. 
 She tried several ways to destroy the house of 
 Arcadia: it was she that let loose the lion and the 
 bear that attacked the Princesses; it was she that 
 procured Clinias to stir up the recent insurrection; 
 and the leader of the supposed country girls who 
 had just enticed the Princesses into her hands was 
 her protogee Artesia, disguised. Had it not been 
 that Amphialus loved Philoclea, Cecropia would, she 
 says, already have had the Princesses killed. As it 
 is, he may easily have his will, for his mistress is 
 his captive. 
 
 (III. iii, 253-255V.) The gallant Amphialus depre- 
 cates his mother's course, requires that Zelmane, 
 though his enemy, be honorably treated, and goes 
 to plead his cause with Philoclea. Though he admits 
 that by not redressing her injury he makes himself 
 an accessory to it, yet he deprecates her anger, and 
 blames all on the tyrant Love. She refuses to yield ; 
 he vows that no violence shall be used ; she threatens 
 to kill herself if her honor be jeoparded. 
 
 (III. iv, 256-259V.) Amphialus departs to prepare 
 for the siege he knows he must stand. Throughout 
 all his activity Love harasses him, with many con- 
 tradictions and antitheses, till at length he asks his 
 mother to intercede for him. 
 
 (III. v, 260-262V.) Cecropia finds Philoclea weep- 
 ing, and rallies her upon spoiling her beauty. With 
 much sophistry she leads up to her plea for Am- 
 phialus; and when Philoclea answers that she has 
 vowed virginity, proceeds to set forth the joys of 
 matrimony. Philoclea replies that she cannot con- 
 sider any proposal as long as she is a prisoner. So 
 (III. vi, 263-265V.) the conference ends. Now Ce- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 3 01 
 
 cropia bethinks her that Pamela may be more tract- 
 able, and that if so, Amphialus may be content with 
 her instead. Going to Pamela's door Cecropia listens 
 and overhears Pamela praying for a mind steadfast, 
 pure, and to the will of God submiss. Abashed by 
 her captive's virtue, Cecropia yet attempts her, too, 
 with eloquence and gifts, but in vain. 
 
 (Ill vii, 266V.-III. ix, 277) Now follow alarums 
 and excursions; of which the chief incidents are an 
 indecisive combat between Amphialus and a Black 
 Knight (=Musidorus) and the capture of Philanax, 
 who is afterward released by Amphialus at the 
 prayer of Philoclea. 
 
 Cecropia continues to woo both the Princesses sepa- 
 rately " determining that whome she coulde winne 
 first the other shoulde (without her sonnes knowl- 
 edge) by poyson be made away." Today, having 
 vainly tried to persuade Philoclea by praising Am- 
 phialus for his mercy (III. x, 278-284) to Philanax, 
 Cecropia goes to Pamela, who refutes all Cecropia s 
 atheistic arguments. 
 
 Meanwhile Basilius slowly prosecutes the siege 
 (III. xi, 284V.-289V.), and the sallies of Amphialus 
 are vain. Phalantus now challenges any gentleman 
 on Amphialus's side to single combat; Amphialus 
 accepts the challenge, fights him incognito van- 
 quishes but spares him, and exchanges with him 
 pledges of friendship. 
 
 (III. xii, 289V.-296) Cecropia lays before Philo- 
 clea this victory as a homage from Amphialus, who 
 now proclaims a general challenge. When he has 
 defeated and killed many of the King's bravest 
 champions, the King sends for Argalus. Him the 
 messenger finds with Parthenia-a pair of wedded 
 lovers; but Argalus putting aside his wife s remon- 
 stances goes at the call of duty. In a terrible com- 
 
30* THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 bat Amphialus at last gives Argalus a mortal 
 wound. Parthenia receives her husband's dying 
 breath. He is buried with military pomp; she is 
 inconsolable. 
 
 (III. xiii, 296V.-301) Clinias's reputation for 
 cowardice has reached the ears of Dametas, who 
 thinks to gain honor cheaply by challenging him. 
 Egged on by several young gentlemen, he sends his 
 challenge, which Amphialus compels Clinias to ac- 
 cept. The two cowards meet in the island, where 
 retreat is impossible, and fight a comical combat, in 
 which by accident Dametas gains the victory. 
 
 (III. xiv, 301-304) The consequent disgrace to 
 Clinias sets him plotting vengeance against Am- 
 phialus. To this end he finds an ally in Artesia, 
 who, having been induced to entrap the Princesses 
 by the prospect that they should be killed and that 
 she should then marry Amphialus, now sees herself 
 scorned for the sake of one of those very Princesses 
 whom she herself has brought thither. Artesia, 
 ready for anything, confides in Zelmane, who wishes 
 no more than to be provided with a sword; but 
 Clinias is for opening a gate to the enemy and for 
 having Amphialus poisoned. Clinias and Artesia 
 agree upon the latter plan, and decide to disclose it 
 to the Princesses in order to be saved by them from 
 the fury of the entering soldiers, and to secure to 
 themselves future reward. Clinias therefore tells 
 Philoclea, who be^s him to give up the plan, but 
 promises not to betray him. Artesia tells Pamela, 
 who loudly denounces both the plan and the traitress. 
 Cecropia overhearing the conversation inquires what 
 it is all about, and is referred to Artesia, who under 
 threat of torture confesses all. Clinias is executed, 
 Artesia locked up in her chamber. 
 
 (III. xv, 304V-III. xvi ? 31 iv.) The proud Anax- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 303 
 
 ius, after several fights with Amphialus, has on one 
 occasion saved his life and has consequently become 
 his friend. Searching for Pyrocles to finish their 
 combat (see b; II. xix, 186), Anaxius has heard 
 of the siege and now comes to aid Amphialus. With 
 his two strong brothers, Lycurgus and Zoilus, he 
 breaks through Basilius's camp from the rear, but 
 is being repulsed by Philanax, when Amphialus also 
 sallies forth, takes one of Basilius's outposts, and 
 receives Anaxius and his brothers. 
 
 The "Knight of the Tomb," challenges Am- 
 phialus but will not reveal his identity. In the 
 fight, Amphialus wounds him mortally, and pulling 
 off his helmet reveals Parthenia. With the words 
 " I come, I come, my Argalus," she dies. Amid the 
 lamentations of all she is buried in the same tomb 
 with Argalus. 
 
 (III. xvii, 312-314) Amphialus retires in deep 
 melancholy, breaks his sword, and recalls his fate 
 in killing against his will both Philoxenus and Par- 
 thenia, and in keeping Philoclea captive without any 
 chance of success. Cecropia rallies him upon his 
 soft-heartedness, and counsels violence. 
 
 (III. xviii, 314V.-III. xix, 325V.) A challenge from 
 the " Forsaken Knight " is delivered and accepted. 
 Amphialus meets upon the island his adversary, who 
 is no other than the Black Knight (=Musidorus). 
 There ensues a tremendous battle, in which each 
 wounds the other so sorely that Amphialus falls in 
 a swoon, and Musidorus is driven by his faintness 
 to give over fighting. He is taken away unconscious 
 and kept secretly in a castle near by to recover of 
 his wounds. Cecropia finding herself in full control 
 as long as her son is disabled, resolves to force the 
 Princesses' consent. First, to rid herself of con- 
 straint from without, she announces to Basilius that 
 
304 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 if he does not raise the siege she will cause the three 
 prisoners to be beheaded before his eyes; and she 
 places a scaffold on the walls, where she exhibits 
 the captives ready for execution. The King decides 
 to raise the siege. Leaving Philanax in general 
 charge, Basilius retires to a castle with the Queen. 
 
 (III. xx, 325V -III. xxi, 332) After again trying 
 flattery and suasion upon the Princesses, Cecropia 
 resorts first to threats, then to indignities, then to 
 hardships, and at length to scourgings and other 
 bodily tortures. All is vain: Philoclea begs only 
 for death; Pamela will not even do so much. Ce- 
 cropia resolves to break the resolution of the one 
 by threatening the death of the other if she will not 
 yield. Philoclea, unmoved by this threat, only asks 
 that she herself be chosen for execution. Cecropia 
 refuses, and bids her prepare to see Pamela be- 
 headed. Zelmane and Philoclea looking inward 
 upon the hall of the castle from the windows of their 
 chambers, behold the execution of a lady dressed 
 in Pamela's clothes, but with most of her face cov- 
 ered (really Artesia: III. xxiii, 339). 
 
 (III. xxii, 332V.-336V.) Learning of the attach- 
 ment between Zelmane and Philoclea, Cecropia 
 threatens Zelmane that unless she persuades Philo- 
 clea to yield, Philoclea shall also be beheaded. 
 After a night of conflicting emotions and councils, 
 Zelmane resolves that Philoclea's life must be saved 
 at all costs; and advises her to feign submission; 
 in consideration whereof he may be set at liberty 
 and perchance get a sword. Submission may also 
 gain delay which will give him the opportunity to 
 gather a rescuing force. But she firmly declines all 
 dissimulation. 
 
 Roused by an unusual noise in the night, Zelmane 
 goes to the window overlooking the hall and sees 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 305 
 
 there upon the scaffold Philoclea's head in a bloody- 
 basin. In his frenzy he tries to brain himself against 
 the wall, but slips and falls into a swoon; whence 
 recovering he resolves to live for vengeance, and 
 laments most grievously. 
 
 (III. xxiii, 337— III. xxiv, 343V.) About dawn as 
 he lies tossing on his bed he hears a rustling in his 
 room, and a voice answers his challenge. It is Philo- 
 clea's, who explains that neither she nor Pamela is 
 dead: Artesia it was who was executed in Pamela's 
 dress ; and Philoclea's living head was thrust through 
 a hole in the bottom of a basin. Now, owing per- 
 haps to Amphialus's discovering, despite his mother's 
 secrecy, something of her treatment of the Prin- 
 cesses, Philoclea and Pamela have been allowed 
 together and Philoclea has been allowed to come to 
 Zelmane. The lovers mingle their joy and their 
 tears. Philoclea returns to Pamela's chamber, where 
 soon Amphialus appears. Kept in the dark by his 
 mother, he has nevertheless had misgivings about 
 her treatment of the captives. Now Pamela's words 
 leave him in no doubt. By threatening torture, he 
 gets the dreadful details from one of his mother's 
 women. In despair he seizes a sword, meaning to 
 kill himself in the sight of his mother, who is on 
 the leads of the castle meditating how she may 
 secretly poison the Princesses. When she sees him 
 coming she thinks his drawn sword meant for her, 
 and retreating hastily, falls to the ground. Even 
 as she dies, she directs that the Princesses be killed, 
 but none obeys. Amphialus recalls his evil destiny 
 in causing the deaths of Philoxenus, Timotheus, 
 Parthenia, Ismenus, and his own mother, and in 
 procuring the torture of his beloved. He falls upon 
 his sword, which slipping kills him not. His old 
 wounds reopen, and with Philoclea's knives he stabs 
 himself. He is taken up almost dead. 
 21 
 
306 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (III. xxv, 344-248V.) Anaxius takes command of 
 the castle, forces the inmates to swear allegiance to 
 him, and vows he will kill the Princesses as causers 
 of his friend's death. Queen Helen of Corinth ar- 
 rives and with Anaxius's permission takes away the 
 almost lifeless body of Amphialus to be cured by a 
 surgeon of her own. 
 
 (III. xxvi, 349V.-352V.) Anaxius announces to the 
 Princesses that upon his return from escorting 
 Queen Helen he will cut off their heads. They face 
 him with fortitude. At the sight of Pamela's beauty 
 he pauses, and receives from Zelmane a challenge to 
 mortal combat. At this, as coming from a woman, 
 he smiles; whereupon Zelmane declares herself the 
 equal of Pyrocles who slew Anaxius's uncle Evardes, 
 nay, the closest possible kinsman to that same Pyro- 
 cles, and invites Anaxius to avenge upon her the 
 wrongs he considers Pyrocles to have done him: 
 otherwise Zelmane brands him as a dastard. Though 
 Anaxius declines the challenge he yet of his own 
 accord spares the lives of the Princesses, and makes 
 odious love to Pamela. Summarily rejected, he goes 
 away for the time, leaving Lycurgus to court Philo- 
 clea and Zoilus to court Zelmane. 
 
 (III. xxvii, 353-355V.) When the brothers are 
 gone, Zelmane persuades the Princesses to gain 
 time by promising to yield if Basilius shall consent. 
 Accordingly, Anaxius sends a flattering messenger 
 to the King, who, irresolute, again refers the ques- 
 tion to Apollo's oracle. This time the answer comes 
 plain: He is to deny his daughters to their present 
 suitors, for they are reserved for such as are better 
 beloved of the Gods ; he is to have no fear, for they 
 will return to him safely and speedily; he is to con- 
 tinue his retired life until both he and Phiianax 
 agree as to the meaning of the former prophecy. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 307 
 
 Anaxius's messenger takes back a resolute negative, 
 which he dresses up flatteringly to tell his master. 
 Anaxius, however, resolves to use violence; but, 
 word being brought of the approach of an armed 
 force, he orders the soldiers to the walls, and with 
 his brothers remains within to carry out his intent. 
 
 (III. xxviii, 356— III. xxix, 360V.) Zoilus an- 
 nounces to the Princesses a version of Basilius's 
 answer distorted so as to appear favorable, and pro- 
 ceeds towards Zelmane, who begs that he allow her 
 to perform a vow of hers never to marry but such 
 an one as can withstand her in arms. Turning this 
 to a jest, he tries to embrace her; she trips him up, 
 takes his sword from him, pursues him to the pres- 
 ence of his brothers, and there kills him. Anaxius 
 disdainfully leaving to Lycurgus the task of revenge, 
 goes down and locks that part of the castle off from 
 the rest. Zelmane snatches a shield from the wall 
 and quickly induces Lycurgus to beg mercy. She 
 would grant it did she not see on his arm a garter 
 which she has given Philoclea, and which Lycurgus 
 has forced from her. At that she runs him through, 
 just as Anaxius returns. Anaxius and Zelmane 
 fight till both are out of breath, and having rested, 
 resume the fight. 
 
 [End of quarto of 1590. The later eds. continue 
 the story, after a gap. See F.~\ 
 
 Reduced to lowest terms, the "Arcadia" 
 amounts to this : Having received a paradoxical 
 oracle, a king endeavors to prevent its accom- 
 plishment ; nevertheless the oracle is accom- 
 plished, and under circumstances issuing in the 
 following catastrophe: at a public spectacular 
 trial, a father not knowing his own son condemns 
 
308 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 him to death ; the son's identity is declared by a 
 deus ex machina who arrives just in time; 
 women's chastity is vindicated; and the conclu- 
 sion is a double marriage of princely lovers, the 
 vicissitudes of whose Fortune have been so 
 ordered by Providence as to unite them at last. 
 It is evident that we have here the grandiose 
 Heliodorean framework. 11 The attribution to 
 Greek Romance is confirmed by detailed exami- 
 nation of several motifs and incidents of this 
 plot, as well as several of its episodes. 
 
 Not especially attributable to any one of the 
 Greek Romances is Sidney's employment of the 
 stock incidents of shipwreck (Li; II. vii) and 
 of what Herr Brunhuber (p. 22) calls " Das Eros 
 Motiv " : — A youth or maid who formerly scoffed 
 at Love becomes the slave of Love. So it was 
 with Clitophon before he met Leucippe, so with 
 Rhodopis and Euthynicus before they met (A. 
 T., I. vii ; VIII. xii), so with Theagenes and with 
 Chariclea (y£th., II. xxxiii). So it is with 
 Musidorus, who, before he has seen Pamela, 
 sharply reproves the love of Pyrocles for Philo- 
 clea (Arc, I. xii, 51 v.) and later falls a victim 
 himself, affording Sidney opportunity for a richly 
 humorous scene (Arc, I. xviii, yyv. ; see post 
 p. 330). So it is too, and seriously, with Erona, 
 whose sad story (Arc, II. xiii, 159V.) begins with 
 her ill-starred love for Antiphilus, — a punishment 
 
 la If external evidence that Sidney knew the "iEthiopica " 
 were needed, it would be supplied by the allusions in his 
 " Apologie for Poetrie " (ed. Collins) : "... so true a 
 louer as Theagenes " (p. 8) ; " Heliodorus in his sugred 
 inuention of that picture of loue in Theagenes and Chari- 
 clea" (p. 12). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 309 
 
 inflicted upon her by Cupid for her sacrilege in 
 seeking to abolish his cult. 2 
 
 More definite is the provenance of the follow- 
 ing incidents. Musidorus (Arc, III. 347) tells 
 how " Pamela, upon his vehement oath to offer 
 no force unto her, till hee had invested her in 
 the Dutchie of Thessalia, had condescended to 
 his stealing her away to the next sea port." 
 Lovers elope in both Heliodorus and Achilles 
 Tatius; but only in Heliodorus does their vow 
 of chastity precede the elopement; and only in 
 Heliodorus does it look to their formal entry 
 into a kingdom. In the "Arcadia" as in the 
 "yEthiopica " this abduction is structural: it is 
 essential to the main plot, and leads through the 
 capture of the lovers, straight to the denouement, 
 where it figures as one of the charges brought 
 against Theagenes and against Musidorus alike. 
 
 Again, in each denouement, as has been briefly 
 noted (ante, p. 307), a father condemns to death 
 his own child, restored to him after many wan- 
 derings; in each, the father is unaware of the 
 identity of the child, who maintains a preter- 
 natural silence on this point ; in each, the recogni- 
 tion is brought about by the arrival, in the nick 
 of time, of a person (Charicles, Calodoulos) who 
 has travelled from a distance to the place of trial. 
 If Calodoulos were a priest, the parallel would be 
 complete. 
 
 Several minor incidents and situations in the 
 " Arcadia," less structural than the foregoing, are 
 no less unmistakably borrowed from the 
 
 8 Herr Brunhuber (p. 22) mentions the case of Erona. 
 
3IO THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 "^Ethiopica." Herr Brunhuber (p. 20) calls at- 
 tention to one of them — an incident of the previ- 
 ous history of Pyrocles : his leadership of the in- 
 surgent Helots (Arc, I. vi, 28; I. viii, 34V.), 
 parallel to Thyamis's leadership of the Herdsmen. 
 The parallel is repeated in the case of Demagoras 
 (Arc, I. v) perhaps somewhat more closely, for 
 both Demagoras and Thyamis have been ban- 
 ished before they become captains of outlaws. 
 
 Another situation which Sidney has used twice 
 is in Heliodorus's passage (yEth., V. iii) about 
 the nocturnal fright of Cnemon: overhearing 
 Chariclea's soliloquy in which she names herself 
 Thisbe, Cnemon is panic-stricken, and beats a 
 hasty retreat in the dark, groping and stumbling 
 and bumping his head and stubbing his toes till he 
 reaches his own chamber. So Pyrocles (Arc, 
 III. 353) in the darkness of a cave overhears a 
 woman soliloquizing and at last naming herself — 
 Gynecia ; he retreats in a panic, and stumbling in 
 the dark makes so much noise that she discovers 
 him. Again (Arc, III. 379), Basilius about to 
 go to his rendezvous with Zelmane, waits eagerly 
 till he thinks his wife asleep; then "he came 
 darkeling into his chamber, forcing himselfe to 
 tread as softly as hee could. But the more curi- 
 ous he was, the more he thought everything 
 creaked under him, and ... his eyes not seruing 
 his turne in that darke place, each Coffer or Cup- 
 bord hee met, one saluted his shinnes, another his 
 elbowes." 
 
 In order to make clear the borrowings next to 
 be mentioned, a preliminary observation is neces- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 311 
 
 sary. For the travels of the two lovers in Greek 
 Romance, Sidney substitutes the travels of the 
 two princely friends and kinsmen who are his 
 heroes. The substitution probably is due to 
 mediaeval influence, particularly that of the 
 " Legend of Two Friends " (see ante p. 250; post, 
 p. 364 n. 37) and of the romances of chivalry; 3 
 and offers Sidney a chance to lead his heroes on 
 a tour of knight-errantry through Asia. But at 
 the same time this is his " Reiseroman " ; and it is 
 diversified with the usual incidents of these wan- 
 derings. Like the Greek lovers, the friends are 
 shipwrecked (Arc, I. i; II. vii) ; just as pirates 
 capture the lady in Greek Romance, and separate 
 her from her lover, so do pirates capture one 
 of the friends and keep him for awhile from 
 his fellow (Arc, I. i) ; and as the lovers are 
 imprisoned together, so are the friends (i£th., 
 VIII. x; Arc, IV. 433; II. xx, 192V.). 
 
 Narrative material from Heliodorus is used by 
 Sidney for three of his episodes. In the 
 "yEthiopica " (VII. xviii, xxi, xxv) Theagenes 
 and Chariclea are the prisoners of Arsace, who 
 desires him. He is tortured, and threatened with 
 death if he will not yield. Chariclea advises him 
 to feign compliance in order to gain time. He 
 refuses to dissemble. In Sidney's episode of 
 the Captivity (Arc, III. xxii, 333~334v.) Pyro- 
 
 8 For Sidney's borrowings from " Amadis of Gaul " — the 
 chief portions of the episodes of Phalantus and Artesia 
 and of Pamphilus and Dido ; the fight of Musidorus and 
 Ismenus about the armor of Amphialus ; the disguise of 
 Pyrocles, and his double qui-pro-quo with Basilius and 
 Gynecia — see Moody, pp. 34-47 ; Brunhuber, pp. 14-191 and 
 post, pp. 318-319. 
 
312 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 cles and Philoclea are the prisoners of Amphia- 
 lus, who desires her. She is tortured, and 
 threatened with death if she will not yield. 
 Pyrocles advises her to feign compliance in order 
 to gain time. She refuses to dissemble. 
 
 In the other two cases Heliodorus furnishes the 
 main body of Sidney's whole episode. The first 
 is the episode of the " Paphlagonica " or " Gala- 
 tica" (Arc, II. x, 143V.-146), founded upon 
 Heliodorus's story of Calasiris, Petosiris, and 
 Thyamis (JEth., I. xix; VII. ii, vi, viii, xi) : 
 One of two brothers (Petosiris; Plexirtus) by 
 slander usurps the birthright of the other 
 (Thyamis; Leonatus), causes his banishment, and 
 attempts his life. Their father too (Calasiris; 
 unnamed King of Paphlagonia) goes into exile. 
 The injured brother returns to his native country, 
 fights for and regains his birthright, and forgives 
 the usurper. The father also returns, formally 
 invests the true heir with his rights, and im- 
 mediately dies. Sidney added greatly to the 
 point and pathos of Heliodorus's tale by having 
 the King himself turned against the good son and 
 seeking his life; by having the King blinded by 
 the wicked son; and by inventing the passage 
 where the old man begs to be led to the top of 
 a rock that he may end his life by leaping down. 
 Sidney also ministered to the surviving mediaeval 
 and chivalric ideas of his time by making the 
 wicked son a bastard. He thus somewhat recast 
 his original, or at least gave it a tone foreign to 
 Heliodorus. Probably it was this new tone which 
 attracted Shakespeare, who, in the underplot of 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 313 
 
 Gloucester and his sons, in "King Lear," re- 
 tained, though with changes again, the features 
 which Sidney added, and added besides much 
 new matter of his own. The result is a complete 
 transformation of the plot and personages of the 
 Greek Romance. In Shakespeare's underplot, 
 and in the characters of Gloucester, Edgar and 
 Edmund, it is difficult to trace any part of the 
 story as told in the "^Ethiopica," or to recognize 
 the old priest of Memphis and his two sons. 
 
 The third of Sidney's episodes shows still 
 greater indebtedness to Heliodorus. It is the 
 episode of Plangus and Andromana, derived from 
 the stories of Heliodorus's two amorous women, 
 Demaeneta and Arsace. 4 Andromana combines 
 these in her own story and character. Like 
 Demaeneta (^Eth., I. x-xvii), she solicits her 
 stepson (Cnemon; Plangus), and being rejected 
 ruins him by means of low intrigue in which she 
 employs a servant as her tool (Thisbe ; unnamed). 
 In each case the stepmother slanders the son to 
 his father. In each case she arranges a ren- 
 dezvous in the dark, where the son is made to 
 appear as an intended parricide. In each case the 
 son is exiled ; and the intriguing servant later 
 confesses and dies. Like Arsace, Andromana at 
 another time is in love with two of the heroes of 
 the story (Theagenes and Thyamis; Pyrocles and 
 Musidorus) — the affairs being successive in the 
 'TEthiopica," simultaneous in the "Arcadia." 
 Rejected by both heroes, she vainly tries the effect 
 of imprisonment and continued solicitation. 
 
 4 Oeftering, p. 94, and Brunhuber, p. 20, recognize in it 
 the story of Demaeneta only. 
 
3H THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Finally, like both Arsace and Demaeneta, Andro- 
 mana kills herself. — The derivation of Andro- 
 mana and her story from a deliberate combination 
 of Arsace and Demaeneta is corroborated by the 
 history of the growth of this episode under Sid- 
 ney's hand (post, p. 348 ff.). 
 
 It is from Achilles Tatius that Sidney takes his 
 other amorous woman, Queen Gynecia. Her 
 fully rounded character, 5 among the compara- 
 tively pale types surrounding her, would lead the 
 reader to suspect her kinship with Melitta. The 
 suspicion is confirmed by parallel incidents. Her 
 passionate pleading for the love of Pyrocles 
 (Arc, III. 353-4, 365-7; cf. A. T., V. xxv, xxvi) 
 at length results in a promise of compliance — a 
 promise of which Pyrocles, like Clitophon, puts 
 off the fulfilment, and which, again like Clito- 
 phon, he means not to fulfil. In Clitophon's case 
 this intention is melted by Melitta's flame, while 
 Pyrocles remains steadfast; but Clitophon and 
 Pyrocles each exchange garments with their re- 
 spective innamoratas; and each is afterward 
 arrested in these garments (A. T., VI. i, iii, v; 
 Arc, III. 378, 408, 423). 
 
 Other incidents or situations borrowed from 
 Achilles Tatius are the following: Pyrocles at a 
 feast with Philoclea, like Clitophon at his first 
 meal with Leucippe, can look only at her. His 
 eyes, he confesses later (Arc, I. xiv, 62V.; cf. 
 A. T., I. iv, v. ix; II. ix; V. xiii) " dranke much 
 more eagerly of her beautie, then my mouth did 
 
 8 " Unter den vielen Charakteren, die haufig jede psy- 
 chologische Vertief ung vermissen lassen, ragt nur die starke 
 Personlichkeit Gynecias hervor." — Brunhuber, p. 9. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 315 
 
 of any other licour. And ... as I dranke the 
 wine, and withall stole a looke on her, me seemed 
 I tasted her deliciousnesse." 
 
 The heroic spectacle, and the spectacular 
 heroics, of shipwrecked Pyrocles riding the waves 
 upon a mast (Arc, I. 4V.-5), Sidney elaborated 
 from the similar passage about Clinias (A. T., 
 III. v). Musidorus and the Laconian shepherds 
 sail out towards the wreck to recover Pyrocles ; 
 when " Vpon the mast they saw a yong man . . . 
 his haire . . . stirred vp and down with the wind 
 . . . himselfe full of admirable beautie, set 
 foorth by the strangenes both of his seate and 
 gesture : for, holding his head up full of vnmoued 
 maiestie, he held a sworde aloft with his faire 
 arme, which often he waued about his crowne 
 as though he would threaten the world in that 
 extremitie." 
 
 The rescuers (Arc, I. i, 5-5 v.) sail towards 
 Pyrocles, " when one of the saylers descried a 
 Galley which came with sayles and oares directlie 
 in the chase of them; and streight perceaued it 
 was a well knowne Pirate. . . . Which when the 
 Maister vnderstood, he commanded forthwith to 
 set on all the canuasse they could, and flie home- 
 ward, leaving in that sort poore Pyrocles so neere 
 to be reskewed. But what did not Musidorus 
 say? What did he not offer to perswade them 
 to venture the fight ? " In vain ; the captain turns 
 back. — This incident is closely parallel to that in 
 A. T., V. vii : The governor of Pharos, with Clito- 
 phon, puts out to rescue Leucippe; but at the 
 approach of a galley full of pirates he returns to 
 shore despite the entreaties of Clitophon. 
 
316 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 When the two Princes are returning from Asia, 
 Plexirtus commissions the Captain of their ship 
 to murder them. The Captain resists all attempts 
 to dissuade him, and Sidney explains this bloody- 
 mindedness by recalling the fact that he "had 
 bene a pyrate from his youth, and often blouded 
 in it" (Arc, II. xxiv, 210). Similarly, the action 
 of Chaereas in hiring pirates to kidnap Leucippe, 
 is explained by his earlier association with the 
 pirates of Pharos (A. T., IV. xviii; V. iii). 
 
 In Sidney's episode of the Princesses' captivity, 
 the brutal Anaxius, forcing his caresses upon 
 Pamela, takes her by the chin (Arc, III. xxvi, 
 352). "Putting him away with her faire hand, 
 Proud beast (said she) yet thou plaiest worse thy 
 Comedy, then thy Tragedy." Thersander, forc- 
 ing his caresses upon Leucippe, also takes her by 
 the chin, and also receives a sharp reproof (A. 
 T., VI. xviii). 
 
 Achilles Tatius's trick of a pretended execu- 
 tion, which he employs twice (A. T., III. xv; V. 
 vii), Sidney employs three times, — twice in this 
 episode of the Captivity, again in the episode of 
 Antiphilus and Erona. 6 To make Philoclea yield 
 her hand to Amphialus, Cecropia threatens to be- 
 head Pamela; and actually has beheaded before 
 Philoclea's eyes a woman dressed in Pamela's 
 clothes. This is Artesia (Arc, III. xxi, 331). 
 The original is evidently the pretended decapita- 
 tion of Leucippe. To induce Pyrocles to persuade 
 Philoclea to yield, Cecropia has him informed that 
 unless he succeeds in this persuasion, Philoclea 
 shall die. The attempt at persuasion proving vain, 
 
 'This indebtedness is noticed by Brunhuber, p. 21. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 317 
 
 Cecropia lets Pyrocles see a bloody basin contain- 
 ing Philoclea's head. In fact this is Philoclea's 
 living head thrust through a hole in the bottom 
 of the basin (Arc, III. xxii, 332V., 335). Erona 
 being in love with the low-born Antiphilus, " Many 
 wayes her father sought to withdraw her from 
 it ; . . . lastly, making a solemne execution to be 
 dene of another, under the name of Antiphilus, 
 whom he kept in prison" (Arc, II. xiii, 150/v.). 
 
 To return to the denouement of the main plot, 
 — Achilles Tatius contributes several important 
 elements to Sidney's Heliodorean trial scene. At 
 the trial in " Clitophon and Leucippe " (A. T., 
 VII. vi-xiii; V. iii, ix) Clitophon, wishing to die, 
 accuses himself of the murder of Leucippe and is 
 condemned to death. She is all the while alive, 
 and is part of the time present in court ! In the 
 same bizarre fashion, Gynecia, so overwhelmed 
 with a sense of guilt that she wishes to die, ac- 
 cuses herself of the murder of Basilius and is 
 condemned to death. He is all the while alive, 
 and present in court — in a trance ! And so, too, 
 the Princes must plead to the charge of having 
 murdered this living man : a situation foretold by 
 the oracle (Arc, II. xxviii, 225V.). Moreover, 
 the multiplicity of charges against Pyrocles — 
 rape, murder, and adultery, — makes the opening 
 of Thersander's invective against Clitophon (A. 
 T., VIII. vii) a model which Sidney can follow 
 closely in the opening of Philanax's invective 
 against Pyrocles (Arc, V. 464) : " That which all 
 men, who take upon them to accuse another, are 
 wont to desire . . . to haue many proofes of 
 
3*8 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 faults in them they seeke to haue condemned: 
 that is to me in this present action, my greatest 
 comber, and annoyance. For the number is so 
 great, and the qualities so monstrous, of the 
 enormities this wretched yong man hath com- 
 mitted, that neither I my selfe can tell where to 
 begin (my thoughts being confused with the hor- 
 rible multitude of them) neither doe I think your 
 vertuous eares will be able to endure the report." 
 The double rendezvous of Pyrocles with the 
 king and the queen, and the double qui-pro-quo 
 by which he leaves them together, were perhaps 
 suggested by three separate passages of " Amadis 
 of Gaul" 7 : (a) In Bk. XI, cap. 3, Agesilan of 
 Colchos, who, like Sidney's Pyrocles, has been 
 reared with his cousin, falls in love, like Pyrocles 
 again, with the picture of Diana, daughter of 
 Queen Sidonia. Upon his cousin's advice he as- 
 sumes female disguise in order to enter Sidonia's 
 service; and he now calls himself Daraide. (b) 
 In Bk. XI, cap. 83, he has reached the land of 
 Galdap. Here he is taken captive by King Gali- 
 nidis, to whose Queen, Salderne, he yields his 
 sword. He gives himself out as a maiden from 
 Sarmatia, and both King and Queen proceed to 
 fall in love with him. As Daraide refuses to yield 
 to the Queen, she has him thrown into prison, 
 (c) In Bk. IX, cap. 3, Arlande, Princess of 
 Thrace, having fallen in love with Florisel de 
 Niquea, who loves the shepherdess Silvia and re- 
 
 T As I have not read the later books of the " Amadis," I 
 follow Herr Brunhuber, pp. 16-18. Mr. Moody, however, 
 was, I believe, the first to point out Sidney's borrowings 
 from the " Amadis." 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 319 
 
 jects Arlande's advances, visits him at night in 
 the garments of Silvia, and is welcomed. 
 
 That Sidney combined (a) and (b) (rejecting, 
 of course, the imprisonment) to make the situa- 
 tion in which Pyrocles finds himself with relation 
 to Basilius and Gynecia, seems likely enough. 
 But as a suggestion of the way out of that situa- 
 tion, a suggestion for his ruse, (c) does not seem 
 so plausible as the story of Cnemon (Mth., I. 
 ix-xvii, esp. xv-xvii), which possesses at least 
 this additional point of similarity to the ruse of 
 Pyrocles: a wife expecting a gallant, is found by 
 her husband. With this, Sidney needed only to 
 compound a theme that stared him in the face 
 from a hundred fabliaux and novelle: a husband 
 expecting his mistress finds his wife. The com- 
 bination produces the ruse of Pyrocles. But the 
 whole question is exceedingly doubtful, for the 
 very reason that the novella-literature of the Re- 
 naissance is so full of qui-pro-quo's. 
 
 Whatever its source, the inclusion of the whole 
 story in the frame of Greek Romance rests on 
 surer ground. The female disguise of Pyrocles, 
 and the escapade of Basilius and Gynecia, even 
 supposing them to have been suggested by the 
 "Amadis," are both of them, together with the 
 bizarreries of the trial-scene, which are taken 
 from Achilles Tatius, predicted by the oracle : 
 
 " Thy elder care shall from thy careful face 1 
 By princely meane be stolne, and yet not lost. } 
 Thy younger shall with Natures blisse embrace ) 
 An uncouth loue, which nature hateth most. ) 
 
.1 
 
 320 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Both they themselues vnto such two shall wed 
 Who at thy beer, as at a barre, shall plead 
 Why thee (a liuing man) they had made dead 
 In thy owne seate a forraine state shall sit. 
 And ere that all these blowes thy head do hit 
 Thou with thy wife adultry shall commit." 
 
 (Arc, II. xxviii, 225V.) 
 
 (1), as has been seen, is the elopement of 
 Pamela and Musidorus, as in the "JEthiopica " ; 
 (2), the love of Philoclea for a supposed maiden, 
 may have been suggested by the " Amadis " ; (3) 
 is from Achilles Tatius; and (4) possibly sug- 
 gested by Heliodorus's story of Cnemon, though 
 this is doubtful. But the point is that Sidney has 
 conceived his story in the frame of Greek Ro- 
 mance — the Romance of Heliodorus; and that, 
 whencesoever he derives his material, he keeps it 
 within that frame by including it in the oracle, — 
 the announcement of the intentions of Providence 
 regarding his personages. 
 
 The point is made clearer by a consideration of 
 the motive forces of the main plot, — Providence, 
 Fortune, and the like. Sidney's own opinion of 
 oracles would appear to be embodied in the letter 
 of Philanax to Basilius touching this one (Arc, 
 I. iv, 14V.) : " Wisdome and vertue be the only 
 destinies appointed to me to follow, whece we 
 ought to seeke al our Knowledge. . . . These kind 
 of soothsayers [i. e., oracles] ... be nothing but 
 fansie, wherein there must either be vanitie, or 
 infalliblenes, & so, either not to be respected, or 
 not to be preuented." That is, the prediction is 
 either false, and therefore to be disregarded, or 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 32 1 
 
 true, and therefore inevitable: in either case, 
 oracles are to be eschewed. In fact, the fulfilment 
 of the oracle is, as it were, a punishment in- 
 flicted upon Basilius for consulting an oracle at 
 all. For the prediction is fulfilled by the very 
 course that he takes to prevent its fulfilment. 
 Had he remained at court, and allowed princely 
 suitors access to his daughters, the one would 
 not have needed to be "by princely meane . . . 
 stolne"; the other would not have embraced an 
 apparently unnatural love, for Pyrocles would 
 not have needed to disguise himself as a woman 
 in order to court her; and for the same reason 
 there would have been no Zelmane for Basilius 
 to fall in love with, and hence no rendezvous, no 
 qui-pro-quo, no adultery, no potion, no apparent 
 death of the King, and no trial of the princes at 
 his bier. As Kalander says (I. iv, 16) in com- 
 menting upon the King's retirement : " The cause 
 of all hath beene the vanitie which possesseth 
 many, who . . . are desirous to know the cer- 
 taintie of things to come." The same sentiments 
 are repeated in comment upon the full text of the 
 oracle (II. xxviii, 225V.-226). Providence will 
 work out its plans either way : if not searched into 
 or resisted, then perhaps smoothly; if searched 
 into and resisted, — as here, — then ironically and 
 with pain to men. 
 
 The arrangement by which the Princes are 
 brought to their destined wives is part of this 
 providential plan. At their birth it is predicted 
 (II. vi, 128V.-129) that they will conquer certain 
 Asiatic Kingdoms. The Kings of these lands 
 
322 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 therefore invade Macedonia; hence Pyrocles is 
 sent to be reared with his cousin in Thessaly; 
 hence, too, Evarchus makes war in the East. It 
 is on their way to join him at Byzantium that the 
 Princes are shipwrecked on the coast of Asia; 
 their tour of the East follows, 8 involving inci- 
 dentally the conquests predicted for them ; and it 
 is on their way back to Greece that they are ship- 
 wrecked on the coast of Laconia, whence Pyro- 
 cles, after his adventures with pirates and Helots, 
 is conducted to Kalander's house, and, falling in 
 love with the portrait of Philoclea, resolves to go 
 to her lodge in the Arcadian woods. This is 
 hardly the nearest way from Thessaly to Arcadia ; 
 but 'twill serve; and the chain is complete, with 
 Fortune intervening only here and there, to con- 
 duct such minor matters as shipwrecks and pira- 
 cies — her immemorial prerogative. After the 
 Princes have joined the royal party in the forest, 
 the control of Providence is further manifested 
 in Gynecia's dream (II. xxv, 212V.-213), and in 
 the second oracle to Basilius (III. xxvii, 354V.) 
 which bids him " to denie his daughters to Anax- 
 ius and his brothers, for that they were reserued 
 for such as were better beloved of the gods." 
 
 The providential plot thickens, as it were, to- 
 ward the close. When the remnants of the rebel 
 band, hiding in the forest, happen upon the elop- 
 ing Musidorus and Pamela (IV. 426), the en- 
 
 8 In the course of this tour, the Princes, beset by Plex- 
 irtus with overwhelming numbers and about to be over- 
 come, are saved by the opportune arrival of the King of 
 Pontus (II. x, 145) whom a dream ha9 sent to their assist- 
 ance. Evidently, supernatural powers are taking care of 
 them. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 323 
 
 counter is by no means the work of chance. 
 "They were guided by the euerlasting Iustice, 
 vsing themselues to be punishers of their faults, 
 and making their owne actions the beginning of 
 their chastizements . . ." Evarchus having ar- 
 rived in Arcadia, Philanax says (V. 445) : 
 " Surely, surely the heavenly powers have in so 
 full a time bestowed him on vs, to vnite our 
 diuisions." At the trial (V. 458), "So extraor- 
 dinary a course had the order of the heauens pro- 
 duced at this time, that both nephew and son, 
 were not only prisoners, but unknown to their 
 vncle and father, who for many years had not 
 seen them. And Pyrocles was to plead for his 
 life before that throne, in which throne lately 
 before he had saued the Kings life." Accord- 
 ingly, both the Princes were resolved (V. 464) 
 " that . . . they would as much as they could, 
 couer the shame of their royall parentage . . . 
 wherein the chiefe man they considered was 
 Evarchus: whom the strange and secret working 
 of iustice had brought to be the iudge over them. 
 In such a shadow, or rather pit of darkenesse, the 
 wormish mankind lives, that neither they know 
 how to foresee nor what to feare: and are like 
 tenisbals, tossed by the racket of the higher 
 powers." And at the last stage of the denoue- 
 ment, when Basilius wakes from his long sleep 
 (V. 482), Sidney makes a final reassertion of the 
 providential control of his plot, and connects that 
 control with the fulfilment of the oracle: "At 
 length remembring the Oracle, which now in- 
 deed was accomplished, [and] considering all had 
 falne out by the highest providence." 
 
324 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 The scope thus left to the agency of chance is 
 narrow. Indeed, Sidney is refreshingly free from 
 the Renaissance slavery to the notion and the 
 word Fortune. His attitude is rather that of a 
 strong intellect that will condescend to the habits 
 of speech prevalent in his time. Fortune, there- 
 fore, as a vera causa is rare in the "Arcadia," 
 though she appears frequently as a more or less 
 faded metaphor. In the former capacity she in- 
 troduces Parthenia at the house of Kalander (I. 
 vii, 31V.) : " Fortune (that belike was bid to that 
 banket, and ment then to play the good fellow) 
 brought a pleasant aduenture among the"; she 
 permits the defeat of a Laconian Knight who 
 championed the beauty of Andromana against 
 Phalantus (I. xvi, 69): "therein Fortune had 
 borrowed witte, for indeede she [Andromana] 
 was not coparable to Artesia " ; and she is blamed 
 by Phalantus for his own defeat (I. xvii, 75 v- 
 76) : " He excusing himself, and turning over the 
 fault to Fortune, Then let that be your ill For- 
 tune too (said she [Artesia]) that you haue lost 
 me." Again, in the first fight between Pyrocles 
 and Anaxius (II. xix, 186), both spears having 
 been broken, Anaxius's " horse happened to come 
 vpon the point of the broken speare, which fallen 
 to the ground chaunced to stand upward; so as 
 it lighting upon his hart, the horse died. 9 He 
 [A] driuen to dismount, threatened, if I [P] did 
 not the like, to doo as much for my horse, as For- 
 tune had done for his. But whether for that, or 
 because / would not be beholding to Fortune for 
 
 9 Cf. the death of the witch of Bessa. yEth., VI. xv. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 325 
 
 any part of the victorie, I descended.'' Finally, 
 she decides who shall tell a story : " Pamela pleas- 
 antly persisting to haue fortune their iudge, they 
 set hands [to ' draw cuts '] . . . and blind For- 
 tune . . . gave [Mopsa] the preheminence " (II. 
 xiv, 165). It is notable that all these cases ex- 
 cept the last occur in episodes, not in the main 
 plot; while the last is an incident of the most 
 trivial kind. Sidney puts Fortune in her place, 
 and keeps her there. 10 He is not even sure that 
 she exists. Among the matters pondered by the 
 student (III. ix, 273V.) are 
 
 "The euer-turning spheares, the neuer-moving 
 ground ; 
 What essence dest'nie hath ; if fortune be or no." 
 
 The same intellectual point of view is exhibited 
 in Pamela's refutation of Cecropia's atheistic 
 argument that the world was created by chance 
 (III. x, 281V.-282) : "Perfect order, perfect 
 beautie, perfect constancie, — if these be the chil- 
 dren of Chaunce, or Fortune be the efficient of 
 these, let Wisedome be counted the roote of 
 wickednesse." 
 
 But, as has been said, Sidney uses the language 
 like other people. He speaks of Fortune and Na- 
 ture (I. xvi, 70; II. v, 124V. ; II. xvii, 183; II. 
 236V.; IV. 437), Fortune and Love (II. iv, 119), 
 and their gifts, as well as of the "mazes of for- 
 tune" (I. ix, 36), the " labyrinth of her fortune " 
 
 10 On two additional functions which he allows her, that 
 of creating a bizarre situation, and that of conducting a 
 " tragedy," see post, pp. 355-357- 
 
326 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (III. 350), the "course of my ill happe" (III. 
 349), and of parting "from the greatest for- 
 tunes" (II. vii, 1 32V.), suffering " eyther a like 
 or a worse fortune" (I. v, 19), and trying in 
 battle "each others fortune" (I. vi, 27), in the 
 conventional fashion of his time. And in the 
 same conventional fashion he personifies Fortune 
 to point a conceit (II. v, 120V.) which explains 
 why the excellent Dorus is poor : " Belike For- 
 tune was afraide to lay her treasures, where they 
 should be stained with so many perfections." 
 
 In her relations to the forces of personality, 
 Fortune becomes at once more real and more 
 weak. Here Sidney departs from the conception 
 of Fortune underlying the Greek Romances, and 
 coincides with the Renaissance in its antithesis 
 of Virtu and Fort una. He uses the word "virtue " 
 in its Italian sense of virtu. Cecropia explains 
 that she and her husband desired to succeed Ba- 
 silius speedily on the Arcadian throne (III. ii, 
 251): "to that passe had my husbands vertue 
 (by my good helpe) within short time brought 
 it with a plot we laide, as we should not have 
 needed to have waited the tedious worke of a 
 naturall end of Basilius." This is of course the 
 extreme Machiavellian meaning; elsewhere the 
 word has the classic Roman meaning of "valor." 
 Amphialus and the Black Knight (III. xviii, 317) 
 fought "a long space . . ., while neither vertue 
 nor fortune seemed partiall of either side." Some- 
 times the antithesis actually takes the form of 
 Fortune versus "Valor" (III. viii, 272) or "cour- 
 age" (III. xviii, 317V. ; II. iii, 109V.) ; sometimes 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 327 
 
 that of Fortune versus "ones owne choice" (II. 
 ix, 141 v.) ; sometimes that of Fortune and "de- 
 serving" or "desert" (II. i, 99; II, x, 144V. ; V. 
 459) ; sometimes that of Fortune and wisdom 
 (II. xx, 191 v. ; IV. 429). In general, virtue sums 
 up the forces of personality, moral or otherwise, 
 fortune those of environment or circumstance. 
 Philanax praises not a fugitive and cloistered 
 virtue. "O no," he protests, against the King's 
 plan to keep his daughters from temptation (I. 
 iv, 15V.) : " O no ; he cannot be good, that knowes 
 not why he is good, but stands so farre good, as 
 his fortune may keepe him vnassaied." Only a 
 coward will depend upon chance, as Clinias does 
 (III. vii, 266) ; but even a brave man will adapt 
 himself to it, — nay seize it and wring from it suc- 
 cess. " Maister Dorus (saide the faire Pamela) 
 me thinks you blame your fortune very wrong- 
 fully, since the fault is not in Fortune, but in you 
 that cannot frame yourself to your fortune" (II. 
 ii, 106). And Pyrocles, biding his time of ven- 
 geance for the indignities heaped upon him and 
 the Princesses during their captivity, resolves 
 (III. xxviii, 356V.) "to attend the uttermost oc- 
 casion, which eue then brought his hairie fore- 
 head 11 vnto [him]." Until that time came, how- 
 ever, even he was helpless, — his valor left un- 
 armed, and (III. xx, 327V.) "all troden vnder 
 foot by the wheele of senselesse Fortune." These 
 passages illustrate, without beginning to exhaust, 
 Sidney's employment of the antithesis "Virtue 
 versus Fortune." 12 They may be summed up, 
 
 n " Fronte capillata, post est Occasio calva." 
 "Other passages: II. ii, 107V. ; II. x, 144; II. xiii, 160; 
 III. xvi, 310; III. 348; III. 394; IV. 428. 
 
328 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 together with Sidney's general attitude on the 
 subject of Fortune as under the control of Provi- 
 dence, in the sentiment of Pyrocles upon parting 
 with his friend (III. 349) : " Farewell my Musi- 
 dorus, the gods make fortune to waite on thy 
 vertues." And so they do. 
 
 Such is the plot of the "Arcadia." Its mate- 
 rial, — motif, situation, incident, episode — comes 
 chiefly from the " Amadis " and the Greek Ro- 
 mances; the material it gets from the former 
 being fitted into the frame of the latter. For its 
 actuating force is the will of the gods, working 
 itself out partly through the agency of Fortune, 
 partly through the agency of human personality 
 — " Virtue." And this dominant force shapes the 
 frame of the story into the monumental form 
 which Heliodorus applied to prose romance. 13 
 Some considerations upon the narrative technique 
 and structure of this plot, as distinguished from 
 its material and its actuating forces, are reserved 
 for a later portion of this chapter (post, p. 343 ff . ) . 
 
 The minor part assigned to Fortune in the 
 " Arcadia " leaves rather free play to human per- 
 sonality, and, if Sidney had been not a romancer 
 but a novelist, might have resulted in some nota- 
 ble studies of character. As it is, his interest lies 
 chiefly in plot and in setting, — the true interests 
 
 13 Brunhuber, p. 23 : " Die Hauptgrundlage des englischen 
 Romans [i. e., Sidney's ' Arcadia '] bildet die Amadis- 
 dichtung, sowie der griechische Liebesroman. In ihnen 
 fand Sidney sein Muster und Vorbild ; alle anderen Ein- 
 fliisse und Einwirkungen erweisen sich als von entschieden 
 untergeordneter Bedeutung." P. 20 : " . . . all das weist 
 direkt oder indirekt auf Heliodor hin, wie uberhaupt der 
 Geist Heliodors uber der Arcadia schwebt." 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 329 
 
 of romance — and, next, in structure and style; 
 so that his personages, with the exception of 
 Gynecia, remain types. But they are types well 
 differentiated. Philoclea and Pamela are quite 
 distinct from each other, and from Gynecia; 
 Pyrocles is distinct from Musidorus. Each shows 
 the rudiments of characterization. The younger 
 princess is soft and gentle of manner and tem- 
 perament and yielding in love, though virtuous ; 
 the elder, lofty and majestic in temper, dignified 
 in manner, and of a virtue whose high principles 
 tend to express themselves not only in action but 
 in moralizing. There is excellent " psychology " 
 in the account of Philoclea's growing affection 
 for Zelmane: her soliloquy is sweet, and both 
 subtle and true (II. iv, 115-119V.). Of the two 
 Princes, Pyrocles is of the slender, delicate, half- 
 feminine, but wholly courageous, high-strung, and 
 " thoroughbred " type ; Musidorus more mature, 
 more masculine, more used to the world's com- 
 promises, and himself an adept in dissimulation 
 for good ends. (I. xviii, 79-80V. : a most elabo- 
 rate deception of his, invented to account for his 
 presence in Arcadia ; cf . too his pretended court- 
 ship of Mopsa.) 
 
 The only characters directly traceable to Greek 
 Romance are the two amorous women: Gynecia 
 an imitation of Melitta; Andromana an imitation 
 of Arsace and Demaeneta combined (cf. ante, pp. 
 313-314). Other personages are merely there 
 to play their part in the Greek Romance plot, and 
 in so far are types from Greek Romance: the 
 eloping hero and the eloping heroine ; the King as 
 
33° THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 judge condemning his own child. In these cases 
 Sidney spares his reader the tedious and super- 
 ficial " psychology " of Greek Romance ; when he 
 has not penetrated to the springs of human con- 
 duct, he does not pretend that he has. Seldom 
 interested in character, he will not feign an in- 
 terest he does not possess. 
 
 Among his remaining personages — (there are 
 in all eighty-eight named personages 14 in the 
 "Arcadia") — the majority of such as are not 
 names and nothing more (like the Knights named 
 only when they are killed) are types set forth 
 with a half-moralistic purpose hinted by their 
 Greek names : Clinias " a verball craftie coward," 
 Philanax a model counsellor, Evarchus a model 
 King, Calodoulos a model servant, Anaxius a 
 pattern of pride, Antiphilus a dastard lover, 
 Chremes a miser, etc. Of unusual interest in 
 conception though only rudimentary in execu- 
 tion, is the character of Amphialus, doomed to 
 bring misery and death upon all he loves. But 
 Sidney's interest in character, and power to de- 
 pict it, stop short of adequacy, here as elsewhere. 
 
 His humor, too, is rather the humor of situa- 
 tion and of words than that of character. Pyro- 
 cles discovering that Musidorus is in love, rallies 
 him (I. xviii, 77v.) by repeating some of the 
 moralizing to which his friend previously treated 
 him upon the like occasion ; and when Musidorus 
 passionately recants this heresy, and shows un- 
 mistakable symptoms of lovesickness, Pyrocles 
 
 "Herr Brunhuber (p. 21) notes Sidney's adoption of the 
 names Clitophon, Leucippe, and Clinias, from Achilles 
 Tatiui. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 33 l 
 
 pretends to think that all this is done to mock at 
 him— -until he induces Musidorus to assure him 
 gravely that he really is in love! This scene is 
 the high-water mark of Sidney's humor. One 
 wonders why some dramatist has not " conveyed " 
 it into a comedy. Sidney's other humorous pas- 
 sages are less fine. Dametas upon the attack of 
 the she- bear (I. xix, 84) bravely sticks his head 
 in a bush. Dametas and Clinias are egged on to 
 fight each other in an island ; and this " Combat 
 of Cowards" (III. xiii, 296V.-301) affords comic 
 relief after the account of Argalus's death: the 
 fun lies in Dametas's abusive challenge, his im- 
 prese and motto, his awkwardness in managing 
 his horse and weapons, and in his continual fear : 
 " he cast his eye about, to see which way he might 
 runne away, cursing all Hands in being euill scit- 
 uated." But in all this there is physical absurdity 
 that almost amounts to horseplay. And on the 
 other hand, in Sidney's would-be funny accounts 
 of the slaughter wrought by his heroes upon the 
 Arcadian rebels, there is an ugly vein of cruelty 
 that spoils the verbal quips (II. xxv, 215-216) : 
 Pyrocles cuts off the nose of a tailor, who stoops 
 to pick it up. "But as his hand was on the 
 grounde to bring his nose to his head, [Pyrocles] 
 with a blow sent his head to his nose." This in- 
 human contempt for the rabble— one of the seamy 
 sides of the chivalry even of a Sidney— is hardly 
 to our modern taste. There is rather gross horse- 
 play again in the situation where Dametas return- 
 ing from his futile hunt for buried treasure finds 
 Mopsa up a tree, holds her when she comes turn- 
 
33 3 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 bling down, talks with her at cross-purposes, and 
 gets a beating from Miso for his pains (IV. 
 405-7). An interesting passage of humor in the 
 peasant vein (II. xiv, 162V.-166) intervenes be- 
 tween the chivalrous, courtly, tragic episode of 
 Erona and Antiphilus, related by Philoclea, and 
 the similar episode of Plangus and Andromana, 
 related by Pamela. Miso interrupts the Princesses 
 to give her view of love, as she heard it from an 
 old woman ; an unchivalrous, clerkly, peasant view 
 of love in contrast with the views suggested by 
 the Princesses. Then Mopsa proceeds to tell an 
 old wives' tale — in fact a fairy-tale. The fun 
 comes from the contrasting views of love, from 
 Miso's conceit of her former beauty, from her 
 prolixity, 15 from Mopsa's homely peasant phrases, 
 and from the formulae, repetition, and allitera- 
 tion of her mediaeval narrative. 16 At last Philo- 
 
 15 "Which when this good old woraa perceiued (O the 
 good wold woman, well may the bones rest of the good 
 wold woma) she cald me into her house. I remember full 
 well it stood in the lane as you go to the Barbers shop, all 
 the towne knew her, there was a great losse of her : she 
 called me to her, and taking first a soppe of wine to com- 
 fort her hart (it was of the same wine that comes out of 
 Candia, which we pay so deere for now a daies and in that 
 good worlde was very good cheape) she cald me to her ; 
 Minion said she," etc., etc. Is Miso an ancestress of Dame 
 Quickly? 
 
 19 " So one day, as his daughter was sitting in her win- 
 dow, playing vpon a harpe, as sweete as any Rose, and 
 combing her head with a combe all of precious stones, 
 there came in a knight into the court, vpo a goodly horse, 
 one haire of gold, and the other of siluer. . . . And so in 
 May, when all true hartes reioyce, they stale out of the 
 Castel. . . . But hauing laien so (wet by the raine, and 
 burnt by the Sun) fiue dayes, and fiue nights, she gat up 
 and went ouer many a high hil, and many a deepe riuer. 
 . . . And so she went, & she went, & neuer rested the 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 333 
 
 clea " stints " Mopsa of her tale much as the Host 
 stints Chaucer of his" drasty" tale of Sir Thopas, 
 and for much the same reasons. Here again the 
 humor lies somewhat deep — in the incongruity 
 between the courtly and the peasant views of 
 love, and in the suggested incongruity between 
 the Middle Ages and the Renaissance. 
 
 The sources of Sidney's humor are thus quite 
 foreign to Greek Romance. Even that humoristic 
 motif which is to be expected in any Elizabethan 
 writer — misogyny, — and for which Sidney might 
 have taken something from Achilles Tatius — ap- 
 pears in the " Arcadia " only to be condemned. 
 Musidorus remonstrates with Pyrocles against 
 falling in love (I. xii, 51 v. ff.), but the tables are 
 turned upon him (I. xviii, 77v.). Geron and 
 Histor hold an amoeboeic pastoral debat de con- 
 juge ducenda (I. 93V.-95), the former out of his 
 age and experience arguing pro, the latter out of 
 his disappointment in love arguing contra; and 
 though the contest is left undecided, the old shep- 
 herd has the best of it. A certain Knight (III. 
 xii, 290-290V.) maintains "blasphemies against 
 womankinde ; that namely that sex was the ouer- 
 sight of Nature, the disgrace of reasonablenes, 
 the obstinate cowards, the slaue-borne tyrants, 
 the shops of vanities, the guilded wethercocks ; in 
 whom conscience is but peeuishnes, chastitie way- 
 wardnes, & gratefulnes a miracle." But Amphia- 
 lus vanquishes him. Sir Philip's chivalry renders 
 
 evening, where she wet in the morning. . . . With Dayly 
 Diligence and Grisly Grones, he wan her affection. . . . 
 And so she went ... til she came to a second Aunt, and 
 she gaue her another Nut." 
 
334 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 impossible his adoption of the misogyny of 
 Achilles Tatius. 
 
 Characterization in the " Arcadia " is thus but 
 slightly indebted, and humor in the "Arcadia" 
 not indebted at all, to the Greek Romances. 
 Where Sidney himself is somewhat meagre, he 
 draws least from this source. 
 
 It is otherwise with his employment of setting, 
 or descriptive background. The moment the 
 Princes are received by Kalander, Sidney indulges 
 in a burst of pictorial writing — an eicfypaGi*; de- 
 scribing Kalander's garden, pavilion, and paint- 
 ings (I. iii, 9V.-10). The garden is patterned 
 after Clitophon's (A. T., I. xv), with a pond in 
 the middle which, like Clitophon's, doubles by 
 reflection the beauties of flowers and trees. As 
 if to acknowledge definitely his indebtedness, 
 Sidney parallels Achilles Tatius's quibble about 
 the trunk and the ivy ("The trunk was a support 
 to the ivy, the ivy a wreath to the trunk") with 
 a similar quibble about the "beddes of flowers, 
 which being under the trees, the trees were to 
 them a Pavilion, and they to the trees a mosaical 
 floore." After describing an elaborate foun- 
 tain, 17 he proceeds to the garden-house and its 
 paintings : " There was Diana when Actaeon sawe 
 her bathing, in whose cheekes the painter had set 
 such a colour, as was mixt betweene shame & 
 
 "This consists of a marble statue of Venus with the 
 breasts running. It resembles the fountains of Venus and 
 the Graces, in the " Hypnerotomachia Poliphili " (Fac- 
 similes : Plates 23, 149, 150, 151) rather more than it re- 
 sembles the carving on the vase in Sannazaro's *' Arcadia," 
 to which Herr Brunhuber (p. 11) is inclined to attribute it. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 335 
 
 disdaine. ... In another table was Atalanta; 
 the posture of whose limmes was so liuelie ex- 
 pressed, that . . . one would have sworne the 
 very picture had runne." Here we recognize 
 Achilles Tatius's stock devices of "conflicting 
 emotions" and of speaking of a picture as if it 
 were alive (A. T., III. vii, viii, V. iii). 
 
 The description of Basilius's lodge and of the 
 " devices " at the banquet (Arc, I. xiii, 62 ; xiv, 
 62V.) recalls the Greek Romances only in its 
 elaborateness : " The table was set neere to an 
 excellent water-worke; for by the casting of the 
 water in most cunning maner, it made (with the 
 shining of the Sunne vpon it) a perfect rainbow 
 . . . There were birds also made so finely, that 
 they did not only deceiue the sight with their 
 figure, but the hearing with their songs, which 
 the watrie instruments did make their gorge 
 deliuer." 18 Strangely enough, too, the storm 
 which brought about the Princes' first shipwreck 
 (Arc, II. vii, 131V.-132V.), does not owe any- 
 thing specific to either Heliodorus or Achilles 
 Tatius ; nor does the exquisite description of the 
 river Ladon (III. xi, 148V.-149) — a lovely bit 
 of landscape apparently Sidney's own. And 
 strangest of all, Sidney neither here nor else- 
 where takes anything from Longus. 
 
 The descriptions of which he is most fond, the 
 descriptions of symbolic armor and impresc, re- 
 call Achilles Tatius's emblems, but probably are 
 wholly due to the chivalry of Sidney's own time, 
 
 18 A similar device is described by Nash's " Unfortunate 
 Traveller" (ed. McKerrow, II, ^83-4) who saw it in a 
 garden at Rome. 
 
33 6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 which in its decay was grown symbolic and 
 spectacular. Thus Amphialus preparing to court 
 his prisoner Philoclea (III. iii, 253), selected 
 his apparel with much care, particularly as to its 
 color; "lest if gay, he might seeme to glorie in 
 his iniury, and her wrong; if mourning, it might 
 strike some euill presage vnto her of her fortune." 
 He chose at length "black veluet, richly em- 
 brodered with great pearle, & precious stones, 
 but they set so among certaine tuffes of cypres, 
 that the cypres was like blacke clowds, through 
 which the Starrs might yeeld a darke luster." His 
 collar was of alternate pieces, " the one ... of 
 Diamonds and pearle, set with a white enamell, 
 so as ... it seemed like shining ice, and the 
 other ... of Rubies, and Opalles, had a fierie 
 glistring, which he thought pictured the two pas- 
 sions of Feare and Desire, wherein he was en- 
 chayned." One other of these numerous passages 
 is quoted because of its autobiographical interest. 
 At the Iberian jousts (II. xxi, 196) "the Iberian 
 Knight Philisides " [= Sir PHiLip SiDney him- 
 self] appeared in shepherdish attire, with a shep- 
 herd's boy as a page, and his lance-bearers dressed 
 as shepherds — all very richly. " His Impresa was 
 a sheepe marked with pitch, with this word 
 Spotted to be knowne. And . . . before the Ladies 
 departed from the windowes, among them there 
 was one (they say) that was the Star [= Stella], 
 whereby his course was only directed." 19 
 
 19 Other descriptions of symbolic attire, armor, and im- 
 prese, are found at I. xiii, 6ov. ; I. xvi, 68v. ; I. xvii, 71V. ; 
 
 II. xxi, 197; III. xi, 287V.; III. xii, 292V.; III. xiii, 297V.; 
 
 III. xvi, 3987.; IIL xyjii, 3 J 5-3*5 v., 320V. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 337 
 
 A pure emblem, not connected with clothing 
 or armor, is used by Dorus in his courtship of 
 Pamela (II. iii, 112) : " I tooke a Iewell, made in 
 the figure of a crab-fish, which, because it lookes 
 one way and goes another, I thought it did fitly 
 patterne out my looking to Mopsa, but bending 
 to Pamela: The word about it was, By force, not 
 choice; and still kneeling, besought the Princesse 
 that she would vouchsafe to give it Mopsa." 
 
 Miso's description of the old woman's concept 
 of Love is also purely emblematic (II. xiv, 163V.- 
 164) : " With that she broght me into a corner, 
 where ther was painted a foule fied I trow: for 
 he had a paire of homes like a Bull, his feete 
 clouen, as many eyes vpon his bodie, as my gray- 
 mare hath dappeis, & for all the world so placed. 
 This moster sat like a hagman vpo a paire of 
 gallowes, in his right hand he was painted holding 
 a crowne of Laurell, in his left hand a purse 
 or mony, & out of his mouth honge a lace of 
 two faire pictures, of a ma & a woma, & such a 
 countenance he shewed, as if he would perswade 
 folks by those aluremets to come thither & be 
 hanged." Of course, this kind of thing is wholly 
 mediaeval, not even touched by the Renaissance. 
 
 There are passages, however, which, though 
 emblematically descriptive, yet suggest not only 
 the Renaissance but Heliodorus too. The trionfo 
 of Phalantus, for example (I. xvi, 68V.-71), 
 headed by his lady Artesia in a chariot " inriched 
 with pur[p]le & pearle, . . . drawne by foure 
 winged horses with artificiall flaming mouths, 
 and fiery winges, as if she had newly borrowed 
 
 23 
 
338 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 them of Phoebus," is of course a piece of 
 Renaissance pageantry, but is reminiscent of the 
 procession at Delphi (Aeth., Ill, iii, iv; U 81-2). 
 Pyrocles disguised as an Amazon (Arc, I. xii, 
 50), though his attire be symbolic, yet reminds 
 one of Theagenes in that procession. Pyrocles's 
 mantle is "closed together with a very riche 
 iewell: the devise whereof . . . was this: a 
 Hercules made in little fourme, but a distaffe set 
 within his hand as he once was by Omphales 
 commaundement, with a worde in Greeke, . . . 
 Never more valiant " : that is, never more valiant 
 than when disguised as a woman in order to be 
 the servitor of love — a plight shared by both 
 Hercules and Pyrocles. The Heliodorean remin- 
 iscence, dimmed here by Renaissance emblems, 
 becomes unmistakable in other descriptive pas- 
 sages that are free from symbolism. Pamela's 
 description of Musidorus on horseback (Arc, II. 
 v, 122) — his skill in manage, the pride of the 
 horse, etc. — is a palpable imitation of the de- 
 scription of Theagenes riding in the pomp at 
 Delphi (^Eth., III. iii; U 81-2, quoted ante, p. 
 
 185). 
 
 Sidney has acquired from Heliodorus, too, the 
 trick of " pathetic optics." On two occasions he 
 uses the device of bringing a person within the 
 field of sight or hearing of another who has 
 been too preoccupied to be aware of him (cf. 
 Mth., I. i; ante, p. 177). When Musidorus and 
 Clitophon have repulsed the attack of Queen 
 Helen's escort, she continues to keep her eyes 
 fixed upon the portrait of Amphialus, which has 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 339 
 
 held her gaze throughout the fight (Arc, I. x, 
 43) : "But the chief e Ladie [viz. Queen Helen] 
 hauing not so much as once heard the noise of 
 this coflict (so had sorow closed vp al the 
 entries of her mind, & loue tied her seces to that 
 beloved picture), now the shadow of him [viz., 
 Musidorus] falling vpo the picture made her cast 
 vp her eie, and seeing the armor which too wel 
 she knew [the armor of Amphialus], thinking 
 him to be Amphialus the Lord of her desires 
 (bloud coming more freely into her cheekes, as 
 though it would be bold, & yet there growing new 
 againe pale for feare) with a pitiful looke (like 
 one vniustly condefied) My Lord Amphialus 
 (said she) " . . . , etc. Again, Amphialus visit- 
 ing his beloved captive Philoclea (Arc. III. iii, 
 2 53 v ) finds her "(because her chamber was ouer- 
 lightsome) sitting of that side of her bedde which 
 was from the windowe; which did cast such a 
 shadow vpon her, as a good Painter woulde be- 
 stowe uppon Venus, when vnder the trees she 
 bewayled the murther of Adonis: . . . ouer her 
 head a scarfe, which did eclipse almost halfe 
 her eyes, which vnder it fixed their beames upon 
 the wall . . . with [a] . . . steddie maner . . . ; 
 and so remayned they a good while after his 
 comming in, he not daring to trouble her, nor she 
 perceyuing him, till that (a little varying her 
 thoughts something quickening her senses) she 
 heard him as he happed to stirre his vpper gar- 
 ment [which was stiff with silk, velvet, and 
 pearls (see ante, p. 336) and would rustle and 
 crackle] ; and perceyuing him, rose up, with a de- 
 
34© THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 meanure, where in the booke of Beautie there was 
 nothing to be read but Sorrow: for Kindnesse 
 was blotted out, and Anger was neuer there." 
 The distraite lady, the position of her eyes, the 
 interrupting man entering the field of her con- 
 sciousness, the pictorial envisagement of the 
 situation, the lady's pathos, and its effect upon 
 her countenance, — these are the traditional ele- 
 ments of Sidney's Heliodorean scene. 20 
 
 The flavor of Heliodorus in the "Arcadia" 
 grows more and more intense toward the close 
 (cf. ante, p. 322) ; and at the trial one is not 
 surprised to find a perfect deluge of pathetic 
 optics. Here is the spectacular ensemble-scent 
 of ordeal; men's lives and women's honor at 
 stake; the succession to the Arcadian throne to 
 be determined ; an august judge ; an ample audi- 
 ence to be moved and to show its emotion, itself 
 part of the moving spectacle. On Basilius's 
 throne (V. 458) " Euarchus did set himselfe all 
 clothed in blacke, with the principall men, who 
 could in that suddennesse prouide themselves of 
 such mourning rayments ; the whole people com- 
 manded to keepe an orderly silence of each side, 
 which was duly obserued of them, partly for the 
 desire they had to see a good conclusion of these 
 matters, and partly striken with admiration, as 
 well at the graue and Princely presence of Eu- 
 archus, as at the greatnesse of the cause, which 
 was then to come in question." Enter now the 
 prisoners (ibid., 459), Pyrocles, Musidorus, and 
 
 20 Cf. also A. T., VI. vi: When Thersander enters the 
 hut, Leucippe raises her dejected eyes, which he sees by 
 a dim light. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 34 1 
 
 Gynecia. "Her eies downe on the ground, of 
 purpose not to looke on Pyrocles face ... for 
 the feare, those motions [= emotions] . . . 
 should be reuiued, which she had with the pas- 
 sage of infinite sorrowes mortified. Great was 
 the^ compassion the people felt, to see their 
 Princesse state and beautie so deformed. . . . 
 But by and by the sight of the other two prisoners 
 [Pyr. and Mus.] drew most of the eies to that 
 spectacle." And indeed their array and their 
 bearing were most splendid. Pyrocles came 
 " clothed after the Greeke manner, in a long coate 
 of white veluet, . . . with great buttons of Dia- 
 monds all along upon it ; " his white neck bare ; 
 on his feet "slippers, which, after the ancient 
 maner, were tyed up with certaine laces, which 
 were fastned under his Knee, having wrapped 
 about (with many prettie Knots) his naked 
 legges;" his auburn hair, stirring in the wind, 
 tied with a white ribbon, each end of which was 
 adorned with a rich pearl. Musidorus was in a 
 satin mantle of Tyrian purple, and wore a Persian 
 tiara, set with rubies, upon his black curling 
 hair. 21 Their courage in the face of death was 
 thus expressed by way of the pride of life and 
 lust of the eye. " In this sort with erected coun- 
 tenances did these vnfortunate Princes suffer 
 themselues to be ledde, shewing aright, by the 
 comparison of them and Gynecia, how to diners 
 persons compassion is diuersly to bee stirred." 
 Gynecia, favorably known to the spectators, and 
 
 "The color-scheme of their array accords with their 
 complexions. The blond is in white, with diamonds and 
 pearls, the brown in reds, with gold and rubies. 
 
34 2 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 known to be fallen from a high estate, stirs com- 
 passion by an appearance of humility; the 
 strangers, scarcely known, known only unfavor- 
 ably, and not known to be Princes, must conquer 
 compassion with an appearance of extraordinary 
 valor. "And such effect indeed it "wrought in the 
 whole assembly, their eyes yet standing as it 
 were in the ballance to whether of them they 
 should most direct their sight." Gynecia having 
 finished her confession, sits down {ibid., 462). 
 " But a great while it was, before anie bodie 
 could bee heard speake, the whole people con- 
 curring in a lamentable crie, so much had Gyne- 
 cia' s words and behauiour stirred their hearts to 
 a dole full compassion, neither in troath could 
 most of them in their iudgments tell, whether they 
 should bee more sorrie for her fault or her 
 miserie: for the losse of her estate, or losse of 
 her vertue. But most were most moved with 
 that which was under their eies, the sense most 
 subject to pitie." 
 
 Further quotation, of the pathos of the guards 
 and the spectators after Gynecia's condemnation 
 {ibid., 463), of the pathos of Pyrocles and of 
 Musidorus during and after Philanax's invec- 
 tives against them {ibid., 467-8, 473), of the 
 pathos of the people and of Sympathus at the 
 conclusion of Musidorus's reply {ibid., 474), and 
 of the pathos of the people and of Philanax him- 
 self at Calodoulos's disclosure of the Princes' 
 identity — could scarcely render more irresistible 
 the conclusion that Sidney is consciously and de- 
 liberately borrowing the pathetic optics of 
 Heliodorus. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 343 
 
 The same may be said of Sidney's borrowing of 
 Heliodorus's narrative method, or structure (as 
 distinguished from his narrative material — see 
 ante, p. 328). To render this point clear, it 
 will be necessary to give some account of the 
 growth of the "Arcadia" to its present form 
 under Sidney's hand. 
 
 The earliest extant allusion to the " Arcadia " 
 is believed 22 to be that in Thomas Howell's " De- 
 vises " (1581). In this collection the verses 
 " Written to a most excellent Book, full of rare 
 inuention" (ed. Grosart, pp. 204-5) can hardly 
 refer to anything but Sidney's romance : 
 
 " Goe learned booke, and vnto Pallas sing, 
 Thy pleasant tunes. . . . 
 
 How much they erre, thy rare euent bewrayes, 
 That stretch their skill the fates to ouerthrow: 
 And how mans wisedome here in vaine seekes 
 
 wayes, 
 To shun high powers that sway our states below. 
 Against whose rule, although we strive to runne, 
 What Loue foresets, no humaine force may shunne. 
 
 But all to long, thou hidste so perfite worke, 
 . . . Then shewe thy selfe and seeme no more 
 
 vnkinde. 
 Unfolde thy fruite, and spread thy maysters praise, 
 Whose prime of youth, graue deeds of age displaies. 
 
 Go choyce conceits . . . 
 Discourse of Lovers, and such as folde sheepe, . . . 
 Goe yet I say . . . 
 
 The worthy Countesse see thou follow euer, 
 Tyll Fates doe fayle, maintaine her Noble name. 
 
 ^"Camb. Hist, of Eng. Lit.," III. viii, p. 211. 
 
344 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 This would perhaps date the composition of 
 the "Arcadia" rather before 1580, the year of 
 Sidney's retirement to Wilton, and the year 
 usually assigned. A year of non-publication — 
 from 1580 to 1 581 — would hardly be enough to 
 justify Howell in complaining ..." all to long 
 thou hidste so perfite work — " ; books often re- 
 mained unpublished and were circulated in Ms. 
 for much longer than a year. The "Arcadia" 
 may well have been composed, as Mr. Dobell sug- 
 gests (p. 82), between 1578 and 1580. 
 
 More important for the present purpose than 
 the date, is the form in which Sidney wrote his 
 romance. A letter 23 of Lord Brooke (Fulke 
 Greville, Sidney's friend) to Sir Francis Wal- 
 singham (Sidney's father-in-law) written after 
 Sidney's death (1586), preserved among the State 
 Papers, and endorsed "November, 1586," speaks 
 of " Sr. Philip Sydney's old arcadia," and of " a 
 correction of that old one, don 4 or 5 years sinse, 
 which he [Sidney] left in trust with me; wherof 
 ther is no more copies, and fitter to be printed 
 then the first, which is so common." Abraham 
 Fraunce's "Arcadian Rhetorike," as observed by 
 E. Koeppel, 24 and Beaumont and Fletcher's " Cu- 
 pids Revenge," 25 which is founded on the " Arca- 
 dia," show that Sidney at first used the name 
 Cleophila (adopted from the "Amadis") 26 in- 
 stead of Zelmane. There was evidently, then, an 
 "Old Arcadia," unpublished but circulated in 
 
 n Quoted by Sommer, Introduction to his facsimile ed., 
 p. 1 ; and by Dobell, p. 76. 
 
 ** Anglia, X. 522 ff. Cited by Brunhuber, p. 19, n. 2. 
 * Brunhuber, ibid., and p. 32. 
 *• Brunhuber, p. 19. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 345 
 
 manuscript, which, in one particular at least, dif- 
 fered from the published versions. 
 
 How much it differed remained unknown for 
 rather more than three centuries, during which it 
 was supposed that no copies of the " Old Ar- 
 cadia " were extant. In the year 1907, however, 
 Mr. Bertram Dobell found no less than three Ms. 
 copies of it. 27 The contents of these were " prac- 
 tically identical." 28 Two of them are now in the 
 possession of an American collector, who has 
 kindly permitted me to examine them, and to 
 make the transcripts and notes printed in the 
 present study (Appendix B). Mr. Dobell's ac- 
 count, verified at every point, and supplemented, 
 by my own examination of the Mss., supports the 
 following assertions: 
 
 1. Sidney wrote, during or before 1580, a com- 
 plete romance, never printed, but widely circu- 
 lated in Ms. It consisted of five books, or 
 " Acts," with " Eglogues " inserted between every 
 two books. This is the original, or "Old 
 Arcadia." 
 
 2. Later he began " a correction of that old 
 one," or rather a new version, entirely recast, 
 and greatly augmented by the addition of numer- 
 ous episodes. This new version, when cut off by 
 his death in 1586, had proceeded to a point near 
 the end of one of the added episodes — that of 
 " Cecropia or the Captivity." As far as it went, 
 the recast version contained two Books, with two 
 sets of Eclogues, and an inordinately long frag- 
 
 * His account of his find appeared in the Quarterly Re- 
 view, July, 1909 (Vol. 211), pp. 74-100. 
 
 * Dobell, p. 89. 
 
34° THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ment of a Third Book. It was published in 1590, 
 quarto; and is the first edition of any part of 
 the " Arcadia." The " overseer of the print " 
 divided it into chapters, with captions indicating 
 the contents of each chapter. This I call the 
 " New Arcadia." 
 
 3. In 1593 appeared an edition authorized by 
 the Countess of Pembroke. This is the current 
 version, reproduced in numerous subsequent edi- 
 tions, and may be called the " Arcadia," sans plus. 
 It is made up as follows : 
 
 (a) The New Arcadia, but without chapter- 
 divisions or chapter-headings; divided only into 
 Book I ; Eclogues ; Book II ; Eclogues ; and Book 
 III as far as the end of the revision. 
 
 (b) An ending to Book III, consisting of the 
 whole of Book III of the Old Arcadia; likewise 
 Eclogues to Book III; Book IV; Eclogues to 
 Book IV ; and Book V, all from the Old Arcadia. 
 
 (c) At the beginning of the part of Book III 
 following the hiatus — viz., at the beginning of 
 Book III of the Old Arcadia, there has been 
 inserted a transitional clause not found in the 
 Old Arcadia: "After that Basilius (according to 
 the Oracles promise) had received back his 
 daughters," etc. Of course, no such clause was 
 necessary, or possible, in the Old Arcadia, for 
 that did not contain the episode of the Captivity. 
 Doubtless it was inserted by the Countess or her 
 friends to bridge the gap. 
 
 (d) At the end of Book V, the list of unfinished 
 episodes omits the loves of Amasis and Artaxia 
 (see Ap. B, p. 475), and mentions instead the 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 347 
 
 episode of Helen and Amphialus. The reason is 
 that " Amasis and Artaxia " is in the Old Arcadia 
 but not in the New ; " Helen and Amphialus " 
 is in the New Arcadia but not in the Old. 
 Doubtless this change, like (c), was made by the 
 Countess or her friends. 
 
 The changes which Sidney made in the Old 
 Arcadia to produce the New are of great in- 
 terest. The contents of the Old Arcadia are as 
 follows : 
 
 A. What I have called the " main plot " : Ora- 
 cle ; Basilius and his family retire ; Princes arrive, 
 fall in love, assume disguise; Basilius (here called 
 "Duke," not "King") and Gynecia fall in love 
 with "Cleophila" (Pyrocles's name as Amazon, 
 instead of " Zelmane " — cf . ante, p. 344) ; and 
 contents of Books III, IV, and V as in the cur- 
 rent "Arcadia": Musidorus and Pamela elope 
 and are captured ; " Cleophila " makes double 
 rendezvous and double quiproquo, and is cap- 
 tured with Philoclea; Basilius drinks potion and 
 is supposed to be dead ; Evarchus arrives and pre- 
 sides at trial; recognition, reunion, resuscitation 
 of Basilius, and happy ending. 
 
 B. The earlier history of the Princes. This is 
 only hinted in the body of the Romance, but is 
 told in full (though much more briefly than in 
 the New Arcadia), in the Eclogues to Books I 
 and II. 
 
 C. Episodes — also excluded from the body of 
 the Romance, and related in the Eclogues to 
 Books I and II as they occur in connection with 
 the Princes' travels: (a) Erona, Antiphilus, and 
 
348 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Plangus (Ap. B, p. 472). (b) Amasis and his 
 (unnamed) stepmother, Queen at Memphis (Ap. 
 B, p. 473-4). (c) Andromana and the Princes 
 (Ap. B, p. 473). (Nothing about Andromana 
 and Plangus, 29 Argalus and Parthenia, Amphia- 
 lus and Helen, Phalantus and Artesia, Pamphilus 
 and Dido, the Paphlagonica, or the Captivity.) 
 
 Especially notable is the order in which these 
 materials are set forth. The oracle, the actuating 
 force of the whole Romance, is artlessly disclosed 
 at the very beginning. Thenceforth the other 
 events in the Main Plot follow in chronological 
 order. The Earlier History of the Princes, the 
 Episodes — all that might invert the chronological 
 order, or in any way render the narrative com- 
 plex or involved — are shut off into the Eclogues. 
 
 The processes by which Sidney turned the Old 
 Arcadia into the New may be classified as follows : 
 
 1. Augmentation. — He added largely to the 
 Princes' previous adventures; and he added in 
 toto the episodes of Argalus and Parthenia, Am- 
 phialus and Helen, Phalantus and Artesia, Pam- 
 philus and Dido, the Paphlagonica or Galatica, 
 and Cecropia or the Captivity. 
 
 2. Combination or Merger. — He compounded 
 Andromana, who solicited and imprisoned the 
 Princes 30 and was afterwards the wife of an 
 apple-monger, with the unnamed Egyptian Queen 
 who solicited and slandered her stepson Amasis, 
 and afterwards killed herself. 31 He called the 
 combination " Andromana," made her at first the 
 
 29 But see post, p. 349. 
 w Heliodorus's Arsace. 
 81 Heliodorus's Demaeneta. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 349 
 
 wife of a citizen, and attributed to her both the 
 attempted intrigues,— that with the Princes, and 
 that with, and against, her stepson (cf. ante, 
 PP- 3I3-3H). 
 
 This stepson, originally Amasis a Prince at 
 Memphis, Sidney merged into the Plangus who 
 was already in love with Erona ; and he called the 
 result "Plangus." Consequently he discarded 
 Amasis, whose betrothal to Artaxia was men- 
 tioned in the Old Arcadia, and whose story was 
 left unfinished at the end. Consequently, too, the 
 editors of the current "Arcadia" were obliged 
 to strike out this mention from the end of their 
 Book V (see ante, pp. 346-347). 
 
 3. Complication. — The Episodes, and the Pre- 
 vious History of the Princes, Sidney now took 
 from the Eclogues, and inserted them into the 
 body of the New Arcadia. The Previous His- 
 tory of the Princes he now placed in their own 
 mouths: they tell the "story of their lives" as 
 part of their courtship (Musidorus at II. iii, vi- 
 x, Pyrocles at II. xvii-xxiii). Their act of nar- 
 ration is thus one of the events actually current 
 in the Main Plot. The Episodes come into the 
 current narrative in either or both of two ways. 
 When, like " Phalantus and Artesia," the episode 
 has no connection with the previous history of the 
 Princes, it is simply inserted in the Main Plot. 
 When, like the " Paphlagonica," it forms part 
 of the experience of the Princes during their tour 
 through Asia, it comes in as a portion of their 
 narrative. And when, as in the case of " Antiph- 
 ilus, Erona, and Plangus " it also forms part of 
 
35° THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 a chain of events affecting the Main Plot itself, 
 it enters the current narrative in both ways : the 
 Princesses tell part of it, and we hear that Plan- 
 gus himself was their informant, as he passed 
 through Arcadia on his way to summon Evarchus 
 to the rescue of Erona. Not satisfied merely to 
 connect episodes with the Main Plot, Sidney must 
 connect them with each other too. Plangus ap- 
 pears in the episode of Erona and in that of 
 Andromana. Plexirtus reaches out from the 
 " Paphlagonica," and takes in marriage Artaxia, 
 from the " Erona " story. Together they not only 
 continue to persecute Erona, and cause Plangus 
 to seek rescue for her across the Main Plot, but 
 they seek the lives of the Princes; and it was 
 Plexirtus's treachery that cast the Princes on the 
 Laconian coast, and ultimately brought them to 
 the family of Basilius. Amphialus, in the same 
 way, figures in the episode of Queen Helen, the 
 episode of Argalus and Parthenia, the episode of 
 the Captivity, and the Main Plot. 
 
 4. Suspense. — An immediate result of this in- 
 terpolation and interlacing of episode with main 
 plot and with previous history is that no story is 
 ever finished at a sitting. One story must be sus- 
 pended while another is begun; and that in its 
 turn must give way to a third; then the main 
 current may be resumed for a moment, only to 
 stop again while one of the inserted stories is 
 continued. 32 Thus (II. xiv, 162) Philoclea has 
 
 33 Despite his frequent interruptions, however, Sidney 
 does not indulge in digression or irrelevancy, except in 
 his descriptions of imprese (cf. ante, p. 335 ff). He con- 
 fesses his fault (II. xxi, iq6v.) : " Thus I have digrest, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 35 1 
 
 told the first portion of the story of Erona, end- 
 ing with the marriage to Antiphilus. Now, she 
 says, there is horrible matter to tell : " So if I do 
 not desire you to stop your eares fro me, yet may 
 I well desire a breathing time, before I am to tell 
 the execrable treason of Antiphilus." Accord- 
 ingly she stops, and asks Pamela to tell meanwhile 
 the story of Plangus. Pamela is willing ; but Miso 
 interrupts with her abuse of Love, and Mopsa 
 interrupts with her fairy-tale. Then (II. xv, 166- 
 172) Pamela tells the story of Plangus, to the 
 point where Plangus returns to Armenia leaving 
 Erona married to Antiphilus (viz., the same point 
 of time at which Philoclea has broken off) : 172 
 " when Erona by the treason of Antiphilus. But 
 at that word she stopped. For Basilius . . . came 
 sodainly among them." The Main Plot now goes 
 on. The story of Erona is not resumed till the 
 end of II. xxiv, 2i2v., and then only to be inter- 
 rupted as soon as resumed. It is actually told at 
 last by Basilius to Zelmane (=Pyrocles), II. 
 xxix, 227-233V. (the very end of Book II). 
 
 5. Inversion. — This new narrative plan implies 
 an almost total destruction of chronological or- 
 der. The epic convention of having "the story 
 of one's life" narrated by a personage in the 
 course of the current story, belongs with the epic 
 convention of plunging at once in medias res. 
 Sidney adopts both for the New Arcadia. It be- 
 gins with the Princes' second shipwreck, the one 
 that casts them on the coast of Laconia. Thence 
 
 because his manner liked me wel ; " and again {ibid., 197) : 
 " But the delight of those pleasing sights have [sic] car- 
 ried me too farre in an unnecessary discourse." 
 
35 2 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 it proceeds chronologically, until Kalander goes 
 back to tell the occasion of Basilius's retirement. 
 Until Musidorus meets Pyrocles again at Car- 
 damila, the story is chronological once more ; but 
 then Pyrocles must go back and tell his adven- 
 tures from the time when the pirates took him 
 from the floating mast. This alternation of cur- 
 rent narrative moving straightforward, with re- 
 lated narrative telling of earlier events, continues 
 till the end of Book II, after which comes the 
 Captivity, and then the long denouement in the 
 order of time as it prevailed in the Old Arcadia. 
 The epic convention finds its greatest triumph, 
 perhaps, in withholding the text of the oracle, the 
 prime mover of the Main Plot, till the reader, if 
 he has survived at all, is dying of curiosity to 
 know what all this is about. Though he has heard 
 that an Oracle caused it all, he is not told what 
 the Oracle said, until folio 225 verso, — 450 pages 
 from the beginning! 
 
 Of course, such marvellous involution and com- 
 plexity defeat their own artistic ends. One who 
 reads for pleasure simply cannot understand the 
 " Arcadia." He gets a dim notion, after awhile, 
 of the course of the Main Plot; but most of the 
 Episodes, with their relation to each other, to the 
 Main Plot, and to the Previous History of the 
 Princes, remain in a fog. Only a deliberate disen- 
 tanglement of the threads — to employ a paradox 
 — can make the pattern clear. But the same pro- 
 cess of disentanglement shows with what deliber- 
 ation, and with what almost incredible skill, Sid- 
 ney performed the opposite process — the process 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 353 
 
 of re-weaving the Old Arcadia upon the loom 
 of Helidorus. For he has not dropped a single 
 thread in the whole enormous design. As far 
 as he recast it, the grandiose pattern is perfect. 38 
 And evidences of deliberate narrative skill abound : 
 as in the employment of suspense (cf. ante, pp. 
 350-351), the introduction of comic relief (cf. 
 ante, pp. 330-331), the ridicule of mediaeval nar- 
 rative structure (cf. ante, pp. 332-3), and the 
 lapse of Musidorus's narrative about himself 
 from the third to the first person (II. xiii, 137), — 
 a lapse which betrays his identity to the amused 
 Pamela. 34 Evidently, Sidney has acquired to the 
 full the narrative technique of Heliodorus, and 
 has bettered the instruction. 
 
 The Old Arcadia consisted of material largely 
 derived from Heliodorus and wholly kept within 
 a Heliodorean frame; the New Arcadia retains 
 this material and this frame, and deliberately re- 
 casts it in the Heliodorean mould of narrative 
 structure. Sidney has learned to write Greek Ro- 
 mance in English. It is difficult not to regard the 
 New Arcadia as a conscious attempt to domesti- 
 cate the genre. 
 
 83 There is one inconsistency, so trivial as to be scarcely 
 worth mentioning. At II. x, 142, the Princes are said to 
 be on their way through " Galacia " when they overhear 
 the talk of the deposed and blinded King with his son 
 Leonatus. Ibid., 143, Leonatus, in telling the story, says: 
 " This old man . . . was lately rightfull Prince of this 
 countrie of Paphlagonia." At II. xxii, 201V. ; II. xxiii, 
 2o6v., and ibid., 208, it is Galatia again. — Sidney may have 
 forgotten to change one " Paphlagonia " to " Galatia " ; or 
 his Ms. change may have been so dim that the printer 
 made the error, which the " overseer of the print " over- 
 looked. 
 
 84 Cf. " Heptameron " (VII), 62. 
 24 
 
354 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 This impression is confirmed, strongly and 
 subtly, by the style of the "Arcadia/' Compounded 
 of many ingredients, Sidney's style varies from 
 page to page. Sometimes it is touched with 
 Euphuism, sometimes with Petrarchism, some- 
 times with the Catalogue, Summary, and Splitting 
 Constructions of late Latin rhetoric. Sometimes 
 it has lovely cadences of its own, — as in the pas- 
 sage about the shepherd who piped "as if he 
 never would be old," or the passage (quoted ante, 
 p. 339) ending " for Kindness was blotted out, 
 and Anger was never there." But its prevailing 
 characteristics are " epideictic " : a fondness for 
 the oratory, the theatrical terminology, the an- 
 tithesis, and the oxymoron, which give such a 
 specific flavor to Greek Romance. 
 
 The first of these is more prominent in the Old 
 Arcadia than in the New. There are, to be sure, 
 three set speeches in the newer Books : Pyrocles's 
 oration to the Helots (I. vii, 29.V.-3OV.) ; Pyro- 
 cles's harangue to the Arcadian rebels (II. xxvi, 
 217-220) ; and Clinias's crafty and plausible ex- 
 planation of the rebellion he has himself incited 
 (II. xxvii, 221V.-223V.). But these are almost 
 inconsiderable when compared with the full tide 
 of discourse in the Old Arcadia — the latter part 
 of Book III, together with Books IV and V. The 
 space which in Books I— III was filled with action 
 or the narrative of action (frequently episodic) 
 is here, in the absence of episodes, given over to 
 speech-making. There are long parting speeches 
 between the princely friends (III. 347) ; protesta- 
 tions between the lovers (III. 361); arguments 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 355 
 
 for and against suicide (IV. 419-22) ; Musi- 
 dorus's argument to persuade his rebel captors to 
 help him elope with Pamela instead of turning 
 him over to the authorities (IV. 431); Timau- 
 tus's harangue against Philanax, and Philanax's 
 reply (IV. 436) ; Philanax's petition to Evarchus 
 to accept the Protectorate, and Evarchus's reply 
 (V. 450, 451); Evarchus's speech to the Arca- 
 dians upon assuming the Protectorate (V. 45 2 )- 
 And finally there is the grand outburst of Elo- 
 quentia at the trial : Musidorus's harangue to the 
 Arcadians to persuade them to protect Pamela 
 (V. 460) ; Pyrocles's exoneration of Philoclea 
 (V. 461) ; Gynecia's public confession (V. 462) ; 
 Philanax's invective against Pyrocles (V. 464- 
 467) ; Pyrocles's reply (V. 468-470) ; Philanax's 
 invective against Musidorus (V. 47 2 ~3) ; Musi- 
 dorus's reply (V. 473-4) ; Evarchus's sentence 
 (V. 475-477) ; and his confirmation of it after 
 being informed who the prisoners are (V. 479)- 
 The bulk of this material, especially when taken 
 together with those other pieces of display, the 
 e/c^/oaeras, is so great as to give to the "Arcadia " 
 as a whole the same distinctly rhetorical cast 
 that is characteristic of Greek Romance. 
 
 Sidney's envisagement of his situations in theat- 
 rical terms is about equally reminiscent of Achilles 
 Tatius and of Heliodorus. The Princesses have 
 a moment's respite when Amphialus and Cecropia 
 have been put out of the way ; but soon Anaxius 
 threatens them with death (III. xxvi, 349v) : 
 "Sister (said she) you see how many acts our 
 Tragedy hath; Fortune is not yet a wearie of 
 
356 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 vexing us" (cf. A. T., VI. iii ; iEth., V. vi; VI. 
 iii). Musidorus tells of the Princes' first ship- 
 wreck (II. vii, 131V.) : "There arose euen with 
 the Sun, a vaile of darke cloudes before his face, 
 which shortly . . . had blacked ouer all the face 
 of heaven; preparing (as it were) a mournefull 
 stage for a Tragedie to be plaied on" (ibid., 
 1 32V.). "The next morning . . . having runne 
 fortune as blindly as it selfe ever was painted, 
 lest the conclusion should not aunswere to the 
 rest of the play, they were driuen vpon a rocke." 
 The reason why the King of Pontus sent aid to 
 the Princes on their way through Galatia (Paph- 
 lagonia) was that he thought that country, ruled 
 as it was by Plexirtus (II. x, 145), "a fit place 
 inough to make the stage of any Tragedie." 
 Under the tortures inflicted by Cecropia (III. xx, 
 3-27V.-328) Philoclea '" wasted, euen longing for 
 the conclusion of her tedious tragedie." Having 
 concluded to show Philoclea the (pretended) de- 
 capitation of Pamela, Cecropia (III. xxi, 329V.) 
 " went to Philoclea, and told her, that now she 
 was come to the last parte of the play " (ibid., 
 33OV). "And since no intreating, nor threatning 
 might preuayle, she bad her prepare her eies for 
 a new play, which she should see within fewe 
 houres in the hall of that castle." When Anaxius 
 attempts a loutish caress (III. xxvi, 352), Pamela 
 exclaims : " Proud beast, yet thou plaiest worse 
 thy Comedy, then thy Tragedy" (cf. A. T., VIII. 
 x : Tr?? fxev rov Upeoos • • • KCDfiayhia? rj/covaa/xev, • • • 
 a 8e fxera rrjv Kwybwhlav irpaya>Br)(T€v tJStj). When 
 Pyrocles retired to the cave, Gynecia was joyful 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 357 
 
 (III. 373), "holding her selfe assured that this 
 was but a prologue to the play [Pyrocles] had 
 promised." Earlier (III. 354) when she found 
 him cold, she theatened : " Trust to it hard 
 hearted Tygre, I will not be the only Actor of 
 this Tragedie: since I must fall, I will presse 
 down some others with my ruines." And later 
 (IV. 413), when Basilius after drinking the po- 
 tion has fallen apparently dead, Gynecia, con- 
 templating her own approaching death, exclaims : 
 " O Zelmane . . . there is a faire stage prepared 
 for thee, to see the tragicall end of thy hated 
 lover." 
 
 Fortune not only brings about tragedy and 
 comedy; it is her special function to contrive 
 those bizarre situations and engineer those sud- 
 den turns, which being "contrary to expecta- 
 tion," produce paradox, antithesis, and oxymoron 
 in style. 35 Musidorus, about to be put to death 
 by the King of Phrygia, is saved by Pyrocles, 
 who places in his hand the very sword that was 
 to have cut off his head ! The two Princes clear 
 the scaffold; rioting ensues among the soldiers; 
 the friends of liberty rise, overpower the guard, 
 take the city, and choose Musidorus King! (II. 
 viii, 138) "whom foorthwith they lifted up, For- 
 tune (I thinke) smiling at her worke therein, 
 that a scaffold of execution should grow a scaf- 
 fold of coronation." 36 Here are the usual in- 
 
 83 ij tSl irap&8o%a Kal to a86K7}Ta (pCkovaa ipydfrvOcu rixt- 
 Aelian, " Var. Hist.,'* XIII. 33- 
 
 86 In Iamblichus's " Babylonica," xxii, Rhodanes, about 
 to be crucified by order of King Garmus, is released, and 
 becomes King in Garmus's place. Possibly Sidney saw a 
 
35$ THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 gredients, — in the situation a sharp peripeteia 
 wrought by Fortune, in the style a corresponding 
 antithesis. Or, Philoclea runs away from the 
 lion ; Pyrocles having already killed the lion runs 
 after her to present her the head; Gynecia runs 
 after Zelmane : — a bizarre situation (I. xix, 82). 
 " So that it was a new sight, Fortune had pre- 
 pared to those woods, to see these great person- 
 ages thus runne one after the other" (cf. A. T., 
 II. xiv, yiverai to Bea/na, tccuvbv). Or, Amphialus 
 having mortally wounded Parthenia disguised as 
 the Knight of the Tomb (III. xvi, 310), "was 
 astonished with griefe . . ., detesting his for- 
 tune, that made him vnfortunate in victory." Or 
 again, Philoclea is on her way to plead to Zel- 
 mane the suit of Basilius, when she would much 
 rather speak for herself (II. xvii, 176): "Well 
 she sawe her father was growen her adverse 
 partie, and yet her fortune such, as she must 
 fauour her Riuall; and the fortune of that for- 
 tune such, as neither that did hurt her, nor any 
 contrarie meane helpe her." In all these cases, 
 as in others, the substance moulds the form; the 
 event itself containing contradictory elements 
 which express themselves in verbal opposition. 
 
 A number of these antithetical passages are 
 direct imitations of Heliodorus and Achilles 
 Tatius. The opening of the " Arcadia " — the 
 description of the shipwreck — at once strikes the 
 note of Greek Romance. The shepherds and 
 Musidorus sailing out to the wreck (I. i, 4V.) 
 
 Ms. of Photius's " Bibliotheca," which gives a summary 
 of Iamblichus's romance. Photius was not printed until 
 1601. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 359 
 
 " saw a sight full of piteous strangeness : a ship 
 . . . part broken, part burned, part drowned . . . 
 About it rioted great store of very rich thinges 
 . . . and amidst the precious things were a num- 
 ber of dead bodies, which likewise did not onely 
 testifie both elements [viz., fire's and water's] 
 violence, but that the chiefe violence was growen 
 of humane inhumanitie . . . in summe, a defeate, 
 where the conquered kept both field and spoile; 
 a shipzvreck without storme or ill footing; and a 
 waste of fire in the midst of water!' The scene 
 of dead men as sole possessors of rich spoil is 
 also Heliodorus's opening scene (/Eth., I. i; V. 
 xxix ; U 148) ; the strange wreck is closely akin 
 to Gorgias's purple patch, imitated by Achilles 
 Tatius (A. T., IV. xiv) among many others 
 (ante, p. 218 ff.) ; and the " fire and water" com- 
 bination is from Achilles Tatius's Sicilian spring 
 (A. T\, II. xiv). When Sidney returns to this 
 same shipwreck (Arc, II. xxiv, 211), he again 
 gets his motifs from Greek Romance. The cap- 
 tain having been commissioned by Plexirtus to 
 murder the Princes, a fight occurs between the 
 mariners and their own passengers, as in A. T., 
 II. iii — ("a strange new kind of sea-fight," 
 Achilles Tatius calls it). As in Achilles Tatius, 
 so in Sidney, there is a conflict for the possession 
 of the boats (Arc, II. xxiv, 210V.-211): "The 
 most part . . . leapt into the boate, which was 
 fast to the ship: but while they that were first, 
 were cutting of the rope that tied it, others came 
 leaping in, so disorderly that they drowned both 
 the boate, and themselves." And meanwhile the 
 
3^0 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ship takes fire (ibid., 211): " Truely it was a 
 straunge and ougly sight to see so huge a fire 
 . . . in the Sea." (Fire and water again.) 
 
 Another purple patch from Heliodorus's open- 
 ing scene Sidney has sewed upon Clinias's ac- 
 count of the Arcadian insurrection. Celebrating 
 the king's birthday, the populace got drunk and 
 quarrelsome (Arc, II. xxvii, 223-223V.) : "Thus 
 was their banquette turned to a battaile, their 
 winie mirthes to blondie rages . . . They neuer 
 weyed how to arme theselues, but tooke up every- 
 thing for a weapon, that furie offered to their 
 handes . . . some caught hold of spittes (thinges 
 seruiceable for life) to be the instruments of 
 death. And there was some such one, who held 
 the same pot zvherein he drank to your health, to 
 vse it . . . to your mischief e. }> The italicized 
 particulars are taken almost verbatim from ^Eth., 
 I. i (U 9-10) : "... the tables were furnished 
 with delicate dishes, some whereof laie in the 
 handes of those that were slaine, being in steede 
 of weapons . . . Besides, the cuppes were over- 
 throwen, and fell out of the handes, either of 
 them that dranke, or those, who had insteade of 
 stones used them. For that soudaine mischief e 
 wrought newe devises, and taught them in steade 
 of weapons to use their pottes . . . bruing bloude 
 with wine, joyning battaile with banketting." 
 These verbal parallels tend to show that, though 
 Sidney may have used the original Greek, he also 
 had before him the translation by Underdowne. 
 
 Musidorus apostrophizes the letter he is about 
 to hand to Pamela (II. v, 123V.) : "Therefore 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 36 1 
 
 mourne boldly, my Inke; for while she lookes 
 upon you, your blacknes wil shine : crie out boldly, 
 my Lametatio; for while she reads you, your 
 cries will be musicke" The original may be 
 either A. T., III. x: tov Oprjvov i^op^ao/jbai^rX. 
 or JEth., VI. viii: aawfxev Op-qvovs ical yoovs 
 vTTopxv™/*^ " U. 162-3: "Let us sing tears 
 . . . and dance lamentations." Handing her this 
 letter (ibid., 124) "hee went away as if he had 
 beene but the coffin that carried himselfe to his 
 sepulcher." This is evidently part of the long 
 train that follows Gorgias's 7{/7re? en^vxpt ra<f>ol 
 (ante, p. 220). The captors of Musidorus and 
 Pamela have not heard the news that the king is 
 dead. Returning with their captives (IV. 432) 
 they are met by a troop of horsemen " marvelling 
 who they were that in such a general mourning, 
 durst sing joy full tunes, and in so publique a 
 ruine weare the lawrell token of victory [cf. 
 iEth., VI. viii, and A. T., Ill, x, as above, for 
 antithesis of mourning and rejoicing]. And that 
 which seemed strangest, they might see two among 
 them unarmed like prisoners, but riding like Cap- 
 taines." Heliodorus furnishes this last antithesis 
 (JEth., I. iv). Thyamis having captured Thea- 
 genes and Chariclea treats them with deference 
 (U 13-14) : " hee, who was their maister, waited 
 upon them, and he who tooke them prysoners, was 
 content to serve them." Sidney uses it again 
 when Gynecia has difficulty in persuading the 
 shepherds to make her their prisoner for the 
 supposed murder of the King (IV. 414). They 
 hesitated "till she was faine to lead them, with 
 
362 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 a very strange spectacle, either that a Princesses 
 should be in the hands of shepherds, or a pris- 
 oner should direct her guardians." 
 
 Musidorus seeing Pyrocles taken by pirates ex- 
 claims (Li, 5v.) : "Alas . . . deere Pyrocles shall 
 that bodie of thine be enchaynedf shall those 
 victorious handes of thine be commaunded to 
 base offices? Shall vertue become a slave to those 
 that be slaves to viciousness?" The original may 
 be either ^th., V. ii; U 126: "Art thou [Thea- 
 genes] . . . bounde, which has a free minde 
 . . .?" (cf. also ^Eth., I. xxix; II. iv), or A. T., 
 III. xvi: "Shalt thou (Leucippe) pure as thou 
 art, be food for the most impure ? " Sidney em- 
 ploys it again. Embarrassed by the peculiar con- 
 straints of his position towards the royal family, 
 Pyrocles exclaims (II. xvi, 173) : "Alas, incom- 
 parable Philoclea, thou ever seest me, but dost 
 never see me as I am : ; thou hearest willingly all 
 that I dare say, and I dare not say that which 
 were most fit for thee to heare. Alas, whoever 
 but I was imprisoned in liber tie, and banished 
 being still present?" The last antithesis is from 
 Achilles Tatius. The gnat in the fable (A. T., 
 II. xxii) : Trapcov ov irdpeifit; Clitophon's letter 
 (A.T.,V. xx ) : ae irapovcrav o>? airoh^ixovcrav opco. 
 Musidorus blames the storm for not ending his 
 life, but letting him live to suffer the pains of 
 love (Arc, II. iii, 109) : " O cruell winds in your 
 unconsiderate rages, why either beganne you this 
 furie, or why did you not end it in his end? But 
 your cruelty was such, as you would spare his 
 life for many death full torments." In the same 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 3 6 3 
 
 way Clitophon (A. T., III. x), apostrophizing 
 the sea, exclaims : " I blame your kindness ; in 
 saving us you have rather killed us." 
 
 Achilles Tatius's mannerism of attributing 
 mixed or conflicting emotions, especially as shown 
 by persons represented in a painting (A. T., III. 
 vii, viii; V. iii) gives Sidney the antithesis he 
 needs for his description of the pictures in Ka- 
 lander's garden house (Arc, I. iii, 10) : "There 
 was Diana when Actaeon sawe her bathing, in 
 whose cheekes the painter had set such a colour, 
 as was mixt betweene shame and disdaine : & one 
 of her foolish Nymphes, who, weeping and withal 
 lozvring, one might see the workman meant to set 
 forth teares of anger" Again (Arc, I. i, 2) : 
 Urania "because of her parting [bore] much 
 sorrow in her eyes, the lightsomenes whereof had 
 yet so natural a cherefulnesse, as it made even 
 sorrozv seem to smile." To this last passage the 
 exact parallel is in A. T, VI. vii: rh Bk Btucpua 
 • • • ye\a. 
 
 In Clitophon's garden (A. T., I. xv) "the tree 
 was a support to the vine, and the vine was a 
 garland to the tree." In Kalander's garden (Arc, 
 I. iii., 9v.) there were beds of flowers under the 
 trees, so that " the trees were to them a Pavilion, 
 and they to the trees a mosaical floore." Leu- 
 cippe singing the praises of the rose (A. T., II. 
 i) calls it " the blush of the meadow." Sidney in 
 describing the meadow where the shepherds' 
 games were to be held (Arc, I. xix, 81) says 
 " the Roses added such a ruddy shew unto it, as 
 though the field were bashfull of his owne 
 beautie." 
 
364 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Sidney's paraphrase here of the one word 
 " blush " into a conceit about the meadow's bash- 
 fulness, is typical of the freedom with which he 
 treats his borrowings. In the foregoing examples 
 it can hardly have escaped notice that he fre- 
 quently imbeds the borrowed antithesis among 
 antitheses of his own conceived in the same spirit. 
 Elsewhere he shows abundantly that he has 
 learned the trick; so that he infuses into the 
 whole "Arcadia" a subtle flavor of Greek Ro- 
 mance, often without borrowing any particular 
 passage. For example, Pyrocles and Musidorus 
 nobly contend (II. viii, 136) as to which shall die 
 to save the other. 37 At length, "in this notable 
 contention, (where the conquest must be the con- 
 querors destruction, and safetie the punishment of 
 the conquered), Musidorus preuayled." Again, 
 in the battle between Amphialus and the royal 
 army, many horses were killed (II. vii, 268) : 
 " Some lay uppon their Lordes, and in death had 
 the honour to be borne by them, who in life they 
 had borne. The earth it selfe (woont to be a 
 burial! of men) was now (as it were) buried with 
 men: so was the face thereof hidden with dead 
 bodies." Again, Pyrocles complains (II. i, 
 102V.) : "To her whom I would be knowne to 
 [viz. Philoclea] I Hue in darknesse: and to her 
 [viz. Gynecia] am revealed, from whom I would 
 be most secreat." Basilius in the course of the 
 
 87 The same motif again in the trial scene (V. 480-481). 
 It is not in the Greek Romances preserved to us, but came 
 to Sidney, perhaps, from Boccaccio's Tito and Gisippo 
 (Dec, X. 8) and so, mediately, through the " Legend of 
 Two Friends," from a lost Greek Romance. (Cf. ante, p. 
 358 ff.) 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 365 
 
 siege of Amphialus's castle digs trenches leading 
 to forts (III. xi, 285) "in such sort, as it was a 
 prettie consideration in the discipline of warre, 
 to see building used for the instrument of mine, 
 and the assay ler entrenched as if he were be- 
 sieged." The remnant of the rebels having taken 
 Musidorus with Pamela (IV. 428), "All resolved 
 to kill him, but now onely considering what maner 
 of terrible death they should inuent for him. 
 Thus was a while the agreement of his slaying 
 broken by disagreement of the maner of it; and 
 extremity of cruelty grew for a time to be the 
 stop of cruelty." When Musidorus has been re- 
 vived by the shepherds (I. i, 3V.) he tries to 
 throw himself into the sea again in order not to 
 survive Pyrocles: " — a strange sight to the shep- 
 heards, to whom it seemed that, before, being in 
 appearance dead had yet saved his life, and now, 
 comming to his life shoulde be a cause to procure 
 his death." 
 
 The great frequency of such passages 38 pro- 
 duces, as has been said, an effect of rhetorical 
 strain throughout, and in the reader's total im- 
 pression quite eclipses the other characteristics 
 of Sidney's style. Once more the reader receives 
 the impression that Sidney has learned the very 
 accent of Greek Romance; once more he feels 
 that Sidney has deliberately written Greek Ro- 
 mance in English. 
 
 83 Others of the same sort: I. ii, 7; I« "h iov. ; I. vi, 
 27-27V. ; I. vii, 30V. ; I. x, 42V.; I. xvi, 70; II. iv, n6y._; 
 II. xiii, 160; II. xxv, 213-213V. ; III. viii, 269V.; III. xviii, 
 3 I S-3iSv. ("a braue raggednesse, and a riche povertie 
 ... a disgraced handsomnesse, and a, new oldnes"), HI. 
 379. V. 450-1. 
 
366 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 And this is the abiding impression. The sepa- 
 rate conclusions reached upon analysis of the 
 "Arcadia" into its elements are confirmed upon 
 a retrospect of the whole. Its material in plot 
 and character, however diffuse and various, is 
 held firmly within the Heliodorean frame ; its 
 descriptive matter is strongly flavored with the 
 Greek Romance e/c^paai^; its structure has been 
 deliberately recast in the mould of Heliodorus; 
 its style speaks with the voice of the Greek Ro- 
 mancers. Sidney has domesticated the genre. 
 
 Additional Notes 
 
 (To pp. 312, 313) Heliodorus's story of Calasiris and 
 his sons looks like a degenerate version of the myth of 
 Oedipus, a version with a happy ending as far as the sons 
 are concerned. If Calasiris is Oedipus travestied, we have 
 a remarkable tradition, from Sophocles or earlier, through 
 Heliodorus and Sidney, to Shakespeare. Not without 
 deliberate intent, we feel, did Shakespeare choose this 
 descendant of the story of Oedipus as a foil to the story 
 of that other Oedipus, King Lear. 
 
 (To p. 360) The antithesis " Banquet turns to Battle " 
 also seems to be the subject of a remarkable tradition. 
 Heliodorus's immediate source may well have been Ovid 
 (Met. XII. 222-244), who also emphasizes the mingling of 
 blood with wine, and the use of the wine-jars as missiles. 
 Now it was at the wedding of Pirithous and Hippodamia 
 that this sudden turn occurred, the misconduct of the 
 Centaurs changing the feast into a fight. It is thus sug- 
 gested that the antithesis and its concomitant details are 
 conventions associated with the treatment of the combat 
 between the Centaurs and the Lapithae ; and, sure enough, 
 in the representation of this combat on the metopes of the 
 Parthenon, a Centaur appears in the act of hurling a 
 wine-jar. We may reasonably suppose that the motif was 
 often repeated in subsequent sculpture, gem-engraving, vase- 
 painting, or wall-painting, if not in Alexandrian pictorial 
 poetry. Thus it would reach Ovid, and, through him, 
 Heliodorus, Sidney, and Sir Walter Scott (" Ivanhoe," ch. 
 xli). Once more, the tradition handed on to modern times 
 by Greek Romance dates back to a period of pure classicism. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 Robert Greene 
 
 The popular request for rapid work from 
 Greene's pen, and the versatility of his own imi- 
 tative talent for story-telling, sent him to many 
 sources and subjected him to many influences. 
 One of the most widely-read of the writers of 
 his time, he was always in the fashion of the 
 moment. He would, as Nash tells us, 1 "yark 
 up " a pamphlet " in a night and a day " to meet a 
 publisher's demand for a "best seller"; and he 
 was nothing if not up to date. " Euphues " ap- 
 peared in 1578 and '79, and in 1580 Greene was 
 ready with " Mamillia " (licensed 1580 ; published 
 1583), which out-Euphuizes " Euphues." Thence- 
 forth the Euphuistic strain ran through all his 
 books with greater or less strength, till he ex- 
 cluded it abruptly and consciously from his 
 " Conny Catching " series and from " The Black 
 Bookes Messenger." His love of stylistic tinsel 
 enabled him to appropriate easily the character- 
 istics of Euphuism, and sometimes, in " Carde of 
 Fancie," for instance, to add absurdities of his 
 own. As with "Euphues," so with Sidney's 
 "Arcadia." By the time the "Arcadia" in 
 manuscript had made its way out of Sidney's own 
 court circle into the Universities and the City 
 
 1 "Foure Letters Confuted," Works, ed. Grosart, II. 221 ; 
 ed. McKerrow, I. 287. 
 
 367 
 
368 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (that is, into the circle of Greene's readers) and 
 had created a demand for its like, Greene was 
 prepared to meet the demand. " Menaphon," pub- 
 lished 1589, and "Philomela," published 1592, 
 but, he says (Epistle Dedicatory, p. 109), "writ- 
 ten long since," are his chief tributes to its popu- 
 larity; the first satisfying the demand raised by 
 the manuscript, the second that raised by the first 
 edition (1590). Apart from the influence of the 
 "Arcadia," Greene's own predilection for lowly 
 and rural life would have sufficed to make him 
 fall in with the pastoral taste of his time ; but his 
 natural tendency toward pastoral was strength- 
 ened by Sidney's work, and, like Sidney, he used 
 his pastoral not as an independent tale, but 
 either as an ornament to some inclusive story or 
 or as a solvent for the complexities and a remedy 
 for the troubles which afflict his personages in 
 city or court. This scene of courtly people in 
 the country belongs to the mediaeval stock of 
 literary material quite as much as to that of the 
 Renaissance; and is one of many mediaeval 
 motifs in Greene. His virtuous shepherdess 
 sends her highborn wooers about their business 
 like any pastor ela; 2 into a story of Roman times 
 he inserts the mediaeval rivalry of Knight and 
 Clerk ; 3 several "situations" he takes from "Huon 
 of Bordeaux " ; 4 now and again he uses the con- 
 
 2 " Francescos Fortunes" (VIII), 184 ff, esp. 193-6: The 
 Host's Tale. 
 
 8 "Tullies Loue" (VII). 
 
 *"Arbasto" (III): Captor's daughter falls in love with 
 captive and releases him. " Carde of Fancie " (IV) : Cap- 
 tive released fights gigantic enemy of captor, and gains 
 captor's daughter to wife. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 369 
 
 ventional Vision-form of the Middle Ages, 5 once 
 together with the usual allegory of a garden, its 
 variety of trees and birds, and Dame Venus stand- 
 ing there; 6 but usually in combination with a 
 debat. 7 So Greene ministered to the lingering 
 mediaeval taste of Elizabethan readers. And 
 here once more he was on common ground be- 
 tween the Middle Ages and the Renaissance: 
 for, regarded as a social diversion, the debat 
 becomes the dubbio. The popularity of this 
 Italian form was enhanced by the popularity of 
 " Euphues," which made such large use of it ; 
 and Greene employed it, too, but as a frame for 
 narrative, which, after all, is his specialty. Many 
 of his stories are told in social gatherings to 
 illustrate some point in morals or love raised in 
 a dubbio or dialogue. 8 He thus gave an edifying 
 frame to novelle which are only incidentally 
 edifying in themselves. The demand of Puritan- 
 ism for stories that should be edifying in them- 
 selves he satisfied by turning into novella-form 
 the parable of the Prodigal Son, 9 and the apocry- 
 phal book of Susanna — the latter twice. 10 His 
 readers, in fact, must have the novella, which by 
 
 8 " Quip for an Vpstart Courtier" (XI); "Greenes Vis- 
 ion" (XII); "Orpharion" (XII); " Carde of Fancie " 
 (IV), 74-6 (Allegorical Dream). 
 
 6 "Mamillia" (II), 275. 
 
 1 So in all the cases cited in notes 4 and 5 (supra). 
 Greene uses a debat without a vision, in " Debate between 
 Folly and Love" (IV), and " Planetomachia " (V). 
 
 8 " Morando" (III); "Censure" (VI); "Penelopes 
 Web" (V); " Perimedes " (VII); "Mourning Garment" 
 (IX); "Farewell to Folly" (IX); and elsewhere. 
 
 8 " Mourning Garment " (IX). 
 
 10 " Mirrour of M'odestie " (III) ; " Francescos Fortunes *' 
 (VIII). 
 
 25 
 
370 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 means of its single " situation," its emphasis upon 
 what happened, its want of profound character- 
 ization, its want of complication in plot, and its 
 simple setting, made a broad popular appeal. 
 It is for these same reasons that the novella fell 
 within Greene's powers. He, too, lacked "la 
 longue haleine " ; he could never manage a plot of 
 any considerable length or complication ; his char- 
 acterization was nearly always shallow and un- 
 motived ; and he was almost wholly destitute 
 of the feeling for "background." Accordingly, 
 Italian novelle were among his chief sources; and 
 in time he learned from them how to make very 
 good novelle of his own. 11 
 
 Meanwhile he borrowed novelle, mainly from 
 Boccaccio; and it is interesting to observe what 
 he borrowed. Not counting allusions and minor 
 resemblances, there are two tales which Greene 
 took over bodily from the Decameron, with slight 
 changes ; and a well-rounded incident, complete in 
 itself, which he took from a third tale and em- 
 bodied as an incident in a story of his own. lla 
 These, as far as I am aware/are his only borrow- 
 ings from the Decameron, and every one of 
 these is, in all probability, like the plot of 
 "Euphues," based upon some lost Greek Ro- 
 mance. 
 
 The first is Decam., II. 6, which Greene used 
 as the first story in " Perimedes " (VII.) 23-42. 
 The following is a summary of his version. 
 
 11 E. g., Chaucer's story of Tomkins and Kate, in "Greenes 
 Vision" (XII), and Roberto's story of the Farmer Bride- 
 groom, in " Groats zorth " (XII). 
 
 Uft Koeppel, pp. 52-54- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 37 1 
 
 Mariana is the wife of Prestines, formerly gover- 
 nor of Tyre, but now the prisoner of Voltarus, King 
 of Sidon. Escaping from her husband's enemy, she 
 is wrecked on the shore of Decapolis, while her sons 
 are carried off by pirates. She lives in a cave, 
 whither chance brings the Despot of Decapolis and 
 his wife. She tells her story and is taken to live 
 with them. The sons and their nurse are sold by 
 the pirates to Lamoraq, governor of Japhet and 
 brother to the Despot of Decapolis. The elder es- 
 capes, comes at length to Decapolis, enters the 
 Despot's service, and gets his daughter with child. 
 Thrown into prison, he hears that Voltarus is being 
 attacked, and exclaims upon his hard fate in not 
 being able to help against his father's enemy. The 
 jailor overhears him and gets his story, which he 
 tells to the Despot. Upon confirmation of the story 
 the young people are married ; the younger son, sent 
 for from Japhet, is likewise married to the daughter 
 of the Governor; and Voltarus having been over- 
 thrown and Prestines restored, his wife and his sons 
 and their wives rejoin him at Tyre. 
 
 This is, substantially, Boccaccio's story of 
 " Madonna Beritola Caracciola, moglie di Ar- 
 righetto Capece (chi sotto il re Manfredi fu stato 
 governatore di Sicilia ma fu fatto prigioniere dal 
 re Carlo)." It is scarcely necessary to point to 
 the familiar marks of Greek Romance. In the 
 original there is an additional motif, which looks 
 like a tortured Byzantine imitation of " Daphnis 
 and Chloe." In her loneliness on the desert 
 shore, Madonna Beritola finds two new-born kids, 
 which she nurses. The Governor (Greene's Des- 
 pot) and his wife come to hunt; and his dogs 
 chase the kids, zvho flee to their foster-mother 
 
37* THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 and thus lead to her rescue. This is apparently 
 an inversion and a perversion of Longus's motifs: 
 "she-goat gives suck to human infant, and by 
 retiring to place where infant lies, brings about 
 its rescue ; goats are chased by hounds." Greene 
 omits it, merely saying that when Mariana was 
 found, she had with her a fawn which she had 
 nursed up; but he leaves all the other evidences 
 that the tale is based on Greek Romance. Per- 
 haps an instinctive feeling that it is in this genre 
 makes him change its locus to Tyre and Sidon, 
 etc., and reunite the parents and the two newly 
 married couples at Tyre, in reminiscence of the 
 end of "Clitophon and Leucippe." That Boc- 
 caccio likewise classified the tale correctly is 
 shown by his placing it in the Second Day, among 
 stories of evil Fortune turning to good, and by 
 his introducing it individually with remarks upon 
 the beneficial effect of hearing tales about the 
 vicissitudes of Fortune. Landau ("Quellen," p. 
 296) after mentioning the stock motifs of the 
 Greek Romances, adds " mit denen [d. h. mit den 
 griechischen Romanen] Boccaccio's Novellen von 
 den drei Schwestern und ihren Liebhabern (IV. 
 3), von Pietro Boccamazza (V. 3) and von der 
 Familie Capece (II. 6) verwandt sind." 
 
 Greene's next borrowing from Boccaccio is the 
 Second Tale in "Perimedes" (VII.), 47~55 : 
 
 On the island of Lipari, Constance and Alcimedes 
 fall in love, but cannot wed because of his poverty. 
 Desperately resolved to make his fortune, he becomes 
 a corsair, but is taken by the Saracens and carried 
 to Tunis. Rumor reports that he has been drowned. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 373 
 
 Constance seeking death in like manner sets herself 
 adrift in a small boat, but is wafted to the Barbary 
 Coast, and makes her way in time to the city where, 
 unknown to her, her lover is confined. Now a rebel- 
 lious nobleman lays claim to the kingdom of Tunis, 
 and Alcimedes in prison offers the King his services 
 as general. These are accepted, and he defeats the 
 rebel and is made a Duke. When the fame of this 
 stroke of fortune brings Constance the news that he 
 is alive, she discovers herself to him, and they are 
 married. 
 
 This, with unimportant changes, is Boccaccio's 
 tale of Martuccio Gomito and Gostanza (Decam., 
 V. 2). The story has a mediaeval tinge over- 
 lying its probable Greek origin; and the motif 
 "released prisoner assists his captor against an 
 enemy," is found in " Huon of Bordeaux," as 
 well as in the "Babylonica" of Iamblichus (ch. 
 XX). 12 The stories of the Fifth Day, like those 
 of the Second, concern lovers who have met good 
 fortune after ill; and Fortune is active through- 
 out this tale. 
 
 The flavor of Greek Romance is strongest, per- 
 haps, in the story of which Greene borrows the 
 first incident — the story of Cimone and Efigenia 
 (Decam., V. 1) : 
 
 Cimone, a clownish youth of Cyprus, beholding 
 Efigenia asleep on the grass, is by love of her trans- 
 formed into an accomplished gentleman. As she is 
 betrothed to a Rhodian, Cimone cannot gain her 
 
 "Greene uses it again in " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 164, 
 166, 191. Neither Greene nor Boccaccio could have taken 
 it from Iamblichus (see table, ante, p. 8 ff.), unless, as is 
 very unlikely, they saw a Ms. of Photius. 
 
374 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 hand by peaceful means. When she is sailing to be 
 married in Rhodes, he attacks her ship, steals her 
 away, and after several changes of Fortune (which 
 constitute the bulk of the story), marries her. 
 
 Boccaccio says that the story is " si come noi 
 nelle antiche istorie de' Cipriani abbiamo gia 
 letto " ; and Rohde (pp. 538-542) plausibly con- 
 jectures that it comes from a lost Greek Romance, 
 perhaps called the " Cypriaca." In any case it 
 bears the unmistakable stamp of its kind; and 
 we actually possess, in the episode of Callisthenes 
 and Calligone (A. T., II. xviii; VIII. xvii), the 
 same combination — though in reverse order — of 
 transformation by love with piratical abduction 
 of the beloved. Greene uses only the first of 
 these motifs — transformation by love 13 for his 
 episode of Fabius and Terentia, in "Tullies 
 Loue" (VII.), 185-9; an d ne accounts for 
 Fabius's change of character by a literal trans- 
 lation of Boccaccio's corresponding account of 
 Cimone's change: "Ye high vertues of the 
 heauens infused into this noble breast, were im- 
 prisoned by ye enuious wrath of Fortune, within 
 some narrowe corner of his heart, whose bandes 
 went asunder by loue, as a Lord to[o] mightie 
 for fortune." Here Love conquers envious For- 
 tune, but in the remainder of the story Fortune is 
 said to be, and is, busy at every turn. 
 
 Possibly unconscious of what he was choos- 
 ing, Greene has thus chosen from the Decameron 
 
 "He has used it again in " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 48- 
 49. He alludes by name to " Boccaccio " and his story of 
 "Chimon" in " Morando " (III), 91. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 375 
 
 only Greek Romance material, and has used it 
 almost exactly as he found it. Indeed, his talent 
 in general has a distinct affinity to Greek Ro- 
 mance. His unresisted tendency towards the 
 pastoral lays him open to the influence of 
 " Daphnis and Chloe." His peculiar combination 
 of a love of pure plot,— of events for the sake 
 of events, regardless of their spring in character 
 and of their reaction upon character — his com- 
 bination of such a love of plot with a weak sense 
 of motive and causal nexus, strongly inclines him 
 to employ Fortune as the mover of his plot. His 
 pleasure in gaudy stylistic ornament exposes him 
 to the infection not only of Euphuism, but of 
 the rhetorical diseases inherent in the style of 
 Achilles Tatius. Moreover, from the great spec- 
 tacular ensemble scenes so frequent in Helio- 
 dorus, he learns how to turn his rhetoric to ac- 
 count, in long harangues and arguments, and in 
 analysis of the emotions and facial expressions of 
 the spectators. So that, amid Greene's variety of 
 sources, it would be rather strange if he had not 
 drawn upon Greek Romance. 
 
 His indebtedness is primary as well as second- 
 ary. As has been seen, Achilles Tatius was ac- 
 cessible to him in Latin, Italian, and French 
 translations, while Heliodorus and Longus may 
 fairly be said to have become current English fic- 
 tion during the time of his literary activity 
 (1580-1592). In fact, as with " Euphues " and 
 the "Arcadia," so with the Greek Romances, 
 Greene's versatility and timeliness serve him well. 
 " Daphnis and Chloe " in Day's version, and the 
 
376 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 " ^Ethiopica " in Underdowne's second or third 
 edition, come out in 1587; and in 1588, Greene is 
 on the spot with his best known story, " Pan- 
 dosto" ("Dorastus and Fawnia") which is full 
 of matter from both of them, and which draws 
 somewhat upon Achilles Tatius as well. " Pan- 
 dosto" thus possesses a two- fold interest — first, 
 and chiefly, as the main source of " The Winter's 
 Tale"; secondly, as exhibiting with the greatest 
 fulness the influence of the Greek Romances upon 
 Greene. Under both these aspects it will later be 
 treated in detail, together with " Menaphon," each 
 integrally as well as topically ; for each is a work 
 whose various topics and sources should be as- 
 sembled in order that justice may be done to the 
 whole. Evidence of the influence of the Greek 
 Romances upon Greene's other works will be 
 arranged not according to the works in which it 
 may occur, but partly according to its contents, 
 that is, topically (as in the treatment of the 
 Greek Romances themselves in Part First of the 
 present study), and partly according to its sources 
 among the Greek Romances. 
 
 Despite Greene's leaning toward the pastoral, 
 and fondness for pathetic ensemble-scenes, it is 
 Achilles Tatius who affects him at the largest 
 number of points, and is his first and latest love. 
 Greene is particularly predisposed to take what 
 Achilles Tatius can give. As a rhetorician, he 
 shares the Renaissance fondness for antithesis 
 and paradox. His only method of characteriza- 
 tion is an antithetical soliloquy, dialogue, or letter 
 by his personages, or antithetical comment by 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 377 
 
 himself. He is not, of course, interested in char- 
 acter, but such characterization as he does attempt 
 resolves itself thus into an analysis of " conflict- 
 ing emotions." 14 The mania for antithesis viti- 
 ates his "psychology" by breaking up character 
 into striving opposites. It vitiates both his style 
 and the speech of his personages by turning both 
 into a Euphuistic balancing of conceits and argu- 
 ments. Wit and Will ; Virtue and Fortune ; Na- 
 ture and Fortune ; Nature and Necessity ; Fancy 
 and the Fates; Love and Destiny; Nature and 
 Nurture; Desire and Despair; Beauty and 
 Bounty; Beauty and Virtue; the Sore and the 
 Salve; Outward Favor and Inward Valor; Rea- 
 son and Passion; Bliss and Bale; Hand and 
 Heart; Weal and Woe; Excellence, not Birth; 
 Wit before Wealth; Mirth and Mourning; Love 
 and Law; — these and a hundred other allitera- 
 tive couples are forever see-sawing through his 
 pages. 15 Like Achilles Tatius, he several times 
 employs the device of rivalry; 16 he calls attention 
 to a surprising event by means of the familiar 
 irapa Sotjav 17 ; and he gives to his " unnatural 
 
 "Conflicting Emotions: " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 55, 
 180, 190; "Alcida" (IX), 94 (Hope vs. Fear); "Philo- 
 mela" (XI), 203, and many other passages. 
 
 IS "Mamillia" (II), 17, i9> 79, 9*. *34, 140; " Francescos 
 Fortunes" (VIII), 223, 227, 228; "Mourning Garment" 
 (IX), 131; "Farewell" (IX), 250; " Coosnage " (X), 6-7; 
 " Blacke Bookes Messenger" (XI), 35: some passages on 
 Wit and Will alone. On this cliche, see Mr. Sidney Lee's 
 "Life of Shakspeare," p. 416 ff. 
 
 ""Tullies Love" (VII), 106; "Mourning Garment" 
 (IX), 127; "Farewell" (IX), 256. 
 
 ""Censure" (VI), 194: " Comming thither, contrary to 
 his expectation hee found that Time the mother of muta- 
 bilitie, had made a strange metamorphosis." 
 
378 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 natural philosophy" the peculiar animistic turn 
 which has been observed in Achilles Tatius, 18 
 and which is not present in Lyly. It is difficult, 
 too, to resist the feeling — though only a detailed 
 examination of the styles in question can deter- 
 mine its correctness — that Greene's homeophony 
 is distinctly more elaborate than Lyly's, and may 
 have had another model besides "Euphues." 
 Such passages as the following seem to push 
 " transverse " alliteration further than Lyly's 
 furthest reach, and to use certain alliterative 
 and assonantal " stanza- forms " or " rhyming 
 schemes," so to speak, which he did not attempt. 
 
 "Carde of Fancie " (IV.), 66: "Wert thou of 
 late a defter of Venus, and art thou now a de- 
 fender of vanitie?" (de f er of vn 
 
 de f er of vn). 
 ib., 92. "not his vad'mg riches, but his renowned 
 vertues." (ntvd r ch s;trnd vrchs) 
 ib., 46. " As the ioye of her presence procureth 
 my delight, so the annoie of her absence breedeth 
 my despight." 
 
 " Planetomachia " (V.) 73: " No, hee had 
 rather prevent her with untimely cteath then pre- 
 tend such an unlikely ctemande : 
 
 (pre en un 1 ly de 
 pre en un 1 ly de) 
 
 he would sooner consent to payn her with some 
 hellish miserie then place her in such a hapless 
 
 18 "Arbasto" (III), 237. Doralicia's froward answer to 
 Arbasto's letter : " As by instinct of nature there is a se- 
 crete hate between the vine and the cabash, between the 
 boxe and the goord, and between the iron and ye Thea- 
 mides, so in my mind I feel a secret grudge between Ar- 
 basto and Doralicia." Cf. A. T., I. xvii, xviii ; ante, p. 210. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 379 
 
 marriage." (pa her su hi m r 
 p a her su hi m r). 
 
 The resemblance to Antike Kunstprosa may be 
 only accidental; Greene could not have seen the 
 original Greek of Achilles Tatius in print, and 
 it is unlikely that he saw it in Ms. I give the 
 impression as such. 
 
 Certainly not accidental, however, is the fact 
 that Greene shares with Achilles Tatius the same 
 faults in narrative technique. "Arbasto" con- 
 sists of a " frame-tale " about the narrator's ship- 
 wreck, and an inner tale — really the substance of 
 the whole — told by Arbasto to the narrator. 
 Both are related in the first person. But this 
 plan is violated, first by Arbasto's report of the 
 feelings and soliloquies of other persons (III. 
 195-8, 215-217, 217, 223-226, 229, 245-248); 
 next by his lapses into the third person when he 
 speaks of himself (227) ; finally by the failure 
 of the author, the supposed narrator of the 
 frame-tale, to recur to it when Arbasto's story is 
 done. He does not " envelop " Arbasto's story 
 at the end, as he does at the beginning, by resum- 
 ing the account of himself. As will shortly ap- 
 pear, 19 the resemblance to " Clitophon and Leu- 
 cippe" 20 is more than accidental. Finally, Greene 
 the rhetorician never spares his readers a speech 
 if he can help it. In " Carde of Fancie" (IV.) 
 the two hostile kings harangue their respective 
 troops at length (174-6). In "Penelopes Web" 
 (V.), 81, " Egistus Oration to the Lords of 
 
 "Post, p. 393. 
 " Ante, p. 199. 
 
380 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Egypt" is thrown into prominence by a title of 
 its own. In " Censure " (VI.), 224, " Cleophanes 
 Oration to the Citizens " persuades them to admit 
 besiegers to their city; (228-9) Cimbriana ex- 
 horts her ladies to revenge; (257-8) Frontinus 
 harangues his troops; (273) Roxander pacifies 
 the people "with this briefe Oration"; and 
 (276) one of the Senators seeing the soldiers 
 careless and discouraged, " calling them all into 
 the market made them this oration." In " Peri- 
 medes" (VII.), 52-3, Alcimedes repeats to the 
 King of Barbary's troops the speech of Frontinus. 
 In "Tullies Love" (VII.) there is a tremendous 
 talking-match, which ends with (213) "Tullies 
 Oration to the Senate." In "Farewell" (IX.), 
 345, Rustico in a speech rouses the citizens 
 against their besotted Duke. In " Philomela " 
 (XI.) there are no less than three trial scenes 
 ( 164 f¥., 186 fi\ and 203 fL), all adorned with 
 " Orations." All things, it would seem, are pos- 
 sible to Eloquentia. Greene's fondness for 
 speechmaking he shares with his time, but he 
 shares it too with Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius. 
 
 The occasion for all this Eloquentia, the para- 
 doxical or antithetical situation which gives 
 rhetoric its opportunity, is by Greene, as by Helio- 
 dorus and Achilles Tatius, often attributed to 
 Fortune, or as by Longus, to Fortune and Love. 
 " Fortune loves to bring about things unexpected 
 and things contrary to expectation," 21 and when 
 Greene speaks of her he tends naturally toward 
 antithesis and oxymoron, balance and alliteration. 
 
 ^Aelian, " Var. Hist.," XIII. 33 (quoted ante, p. 357, n. 35.) 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 38 1 
 
 "O Fortune, how constant art thou in thy in- 
 constancie?" 22 In "Censure" (VI.), 196, Mae- 
 dyna, the faithless wife of Polymestor, having 
 refused to return to him, his nobles "thought 
 their kinge happy that Fortune by ill fortune had 
 at hazard giuen him such good fortune." Those 
 who are down need fear no fall; but those in 
 high places are especially subject to vicissitude ; 
 hence, in " Pandosto" (IV.), 249, Queen Bellaria 
 exclaims to herself : " How unfortunate art thou, 
 because fortunate." In " Carde of Fancie" 
 (IV.), 153, Gwydonius cries: "Who a late so 
 floated in the flouds of felicitie as I, which now 
 by the sinister meanes of frowning Fortune am 
 sowsed in the seas of sorrow." And Castania 
 (ib.j 182): "Let froward fortune favor whom 
 she please, so I may ioy and safelie inioy my 
 onelie ioy." 
 
 Greene's subjection to the concept, nay to the 
 word, " Fortune," far surpasses that of Achilles 
 Tatius. Greene is Fortune's abject slave; he 
 suffers from lues fortunae, or tychomania, a dis- 
 ease which once having gripped its victim, blinds 
 him to the true course of human affairs, and 
 renders him incapable of ever building more than 
 a novella-plot, or depicting a consistent character. 
 Fortune has him in thrall. He attributes to her 
 the plainest effects of a line of causes already 
 begun — effects which are perfectly calculable and 
 which exhibit not the slightest element of chance. 23 
 
 a "Morando" (III), 127-8; again "Penelopes Web" 
 (V), 178. 
 
 23 " Never too Late " (VIII), 101. Francesco in the snares 
 of Infida has been living riotously. " Wallowing thus in 
 
382 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 He attributes to her the gifts which, according to 
 a distinction that was one of the commonplaces 
 of mediaeval and Renaissance thought, really 
 came from " Nature." 24 He drags her in at every 
 possible or impossible place, simply as a cliche, 
 
 the foldes of their owne follies, Fortune . . . dealt thus " : 
 Francesco's money gave out ! There was no interference 
 by Fortune — nothing but continued causation. In " Dispu- 
 tation " (X), 246, the reformed courtesan says that as a 
 young girl she had many suitors, but " either my fortune or 
 destenie droue me to a worser ende, for I refused them 
 all " : an act of human choice. In " Carde of Fancie " 
 (IV), 134, "Fortune . . . brought it to pass" that Orlanio 
 withheld his accustomed tribute, and so occasioned a war. 
 But there was nothing fortuitous about it ; it originated in 
 Orlanio's will. In " Planetomachia " (V), 89, Rodento and 
 Pasylla having been betrothed, " Fortune grudging at this 
 happy successe, crossed their sweete and delicious favours 
 with bitter and despairing frowns. For Valdracko (Pa- 
 sylla's father) . . . began to thinke " that this betrothal 
 gave him an opportunity for vengeance upon the formerly 
 hostile house of Rodento. But Valdracko had promoted the 
 betrothal between his daughter and his enemy's son for 
 that very purpose. Fortune was active only in his acci- 
 dental finding of the young people's letters, which showed 
 him that they were in love. Valdracko's own motive and 
 agency, not Fortune, brings about the remainder of the 
 tale. In "Philomela" (XI), 155, Philippo's jealous sus- 
 picion of his wife is said to be the work of Fortune — and 
 this after Greene has done his best to depict Philippo as 
 suspicious and jealous by nature. In " Arbasto " (III), 
 222, 231, 245, 252, the hero repeatedly ascribes to Fortune 
 the clear effects of his own duplicity, ingratitude, and 
 folly ; the story has for sub-title " the Anatomie of For- 
 tune," and at the beginning we behold Arbasto, now in 
 retirement after his troubles, robed in white satin and 
 crowned with gold, weeping while he gazes upon a " coun- 
 terfeit of Fortune," his scapegoat. 
 
 24 " Penelope's Web" (V), 227. Ariamenes's eldest son, 
 praising his wife, classifies her excellences as " the gifts of 
 nature " and " the gifts of fortune " — a stereotyped dichot- 
 omy. Then, among the gifts of fortune, he places the fact 
 that she is " descended of honourable parentage " — a gift 
 which of all gifts comes by birth, by natura. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 383 
 
 meaning no more than "condition in life" or 
 " change of affairs " or " difficulties or obstacles 
 to be overcome " or " some reason or other why 
 things happen as they do — some reason which I 
 don't care to take the trouble to find out." 25 
 This intellectual laziness leads Greene to employ 
 " drag-net " or " blunderbuss " formulae when he 
 wishes to be sure of including the true cause of 
 his event: thus he often couples Fortune with 
 Fate, the Destinies, the Gods, Time, Chance, 
 Providence, Nemesis, Occasion, Opportunity, the 
 Stars, Necessity, Nature and the like, indiscrimi- 
 nately, without even attempting a distinction be- 
 tween their respective agencies. 26 It would be 
 hard to exaggerate the prominence of Fortune as 
 an empty formula throughout the works of 
 Greene. Quite apart from the numerous pas- 
 sages — to be next discussed — where she is a vera 
 
 25 It is hardly worth while to classify the passages that 
 exemplify these cliches. A few — by no means all — are re- 
 ferred to here. " Mamillia " (II), 61, 236. " Arbasto " 
 (III), 203, 211, 215, 217, 226, 228, 239, 245, 246, " Carde 
 of Fancie " (IV), 112, 28-9, 54-5, 93, 117, 120-1, 124, 141, 
 144, 153, 182, 183, "Penelope's Web " (V), 151, 168, "Cen- 
 sure" (VI), 192, "Pandosto" (IV), 283, 285, 308. 
 
 26 "Alcida" (IX), 23. " Liuing thus contentedly, and as 
 I thought armed against fortune, in that we foregarded our 
 actions with vertue, the Fates, if there be any, or the des- 
 tinies, some star or planet in some infortunate and cursed 
 aspect, calculated ... ill hap to all my daughter's natiui- 
 ties." " Morando " (III), 119 : " Men can neuer purely and 
 simply enjoy the ease of any great prosperitie : but whether 
 it bee Fortune, or the enuie of Destinie, or els the naturall 
 necessitie of earthly things, their ease is allwaies inter- 
 mingled with evil among the good." " Orpharion " (XII), 
 14 : " Time hath many chaunces, the Fates their Canons 
 tied to opportunity : Fortune her decrees variable, and love, 
 many accidents." 
 
384 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 causa, and moves the plot or is the subject of a 
 formal disquisition, or of a genuine personifica- 
 tion with picturesque attributes ; quite apart from 
 these, she appears on nearly every page. 27 Space 
 fails for a fuller exposition of this subject. Any 
 reader who opens Greene's works anywhere can 
 see for himself how nearly Greene's tychomania 
 amounts to an obsession. 
 
 Apart from these empty or distorted uses of 
 the word or concept " Fortune," there is a much 
 more important and perhaps quite as bulky class 
 of cases where Fortune is really used by Greene's 
 imagination or his intellect. Now his intellect 
 gives the subject a formal discussion — as in 
 "Morando" (III), 127-141, where after dinner 
 several members of the company discourse at 
 length of the ways of Fortune. Now it expresses 
 or hints at plausible relations between Fortune 
 and Fate, Fortune and Providence, Fortune and 
 Justice, Fortune and Nemesis, Fortune and Op- 
 portunity, or, in general Fortune and other non- 
 human forces. 28 Now it brings Fortune into rela- 
 
 2T " Farewell" (IX), 256-264: eight pages, Fortune men- 
 tioned fifteen times. " Menaphon " 45-52 : seven pages, 
 Fortune mentioned twenty times. 
 
 ^"Carde of Fancie " (IV), 147, 184: The Fates or Des- 
 tinies are opposed to Fortune ; she is unfavorable, but they 
 are favorable and stronger and will prevail. lb., 78 : The 
 Destinies are unfavorable, but the Gods favorable, Cf. 
 " D. & C," IV. xxiv, and ante, p. 123, n. lb., 171-2: For- 
 tune, the Destinies, the Fates, even the Gods must yield 
 to justice and human desert. " Pandosto " (IV), 285 : " For- 
 tune windeth those threedes which the Destinies spin " : 
 assigns to Fortune a position of real power, but subordi- 
 nate to the Destinies. So " Perimedes " (VII), 24-54. 
 " Fortune, or some contrarie fate aboue fortune " and 
 "Menaphon" (VI), 89: "Where God and fate hath vowed 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 385 
 
 tion with man by assigning — expressly or im- 
 pliedly — the varying functions of Fortune and 
 Nature. 29 Now it touches more deeply the rela- 
 
 felicitie, no adverse fortune may expel prosperitie." " Pene- 
 lope's Web" (V), 150: "Fortune . . . having commission 
 from angry Neptune to showe her inconstancie, kept 
 (Ulysses) still from the end of his desires." " Planeto- 
 machia" (V), 106: The eagle drops Rhodope's shoe into 
 the lap of Psammetichus, " not by chance, but by some 
 infortunate and dismall destiny " ; Aelian (" Var. Hist.," 
 XIII, 33) expressly attributes it to Fortune. " Penelope's 
 Web" (V), 190: Fortune as Nemesis: " Thoughtes aboue 
 measure are either cut short by tyme or fortune." But on 
 the other hand, "Censure" (VI), 172: "Men determine, 
 but the Gods dispose : humaine actions are oft measured 
 by will, but the censures from above are iust and per- 
 emptorie : Fortune is a goddesse but hath no priviledge in 
 punishing of faultes." Fortune controls Occasion or Op- 
 portunity: "Censure" (VI), 185, 254; "Perimedes" (VII), 
 38; "Tullies Love" (VII), 113. 
 
 29 Meaning by " Nature " all those powers that make the 
 human estate, especially at birth, but to a less degree 
 throughout life, exclusive of " environment." " Environ- 
 ment " is the province of Fortune. " Carde of Fancie " 
 (IV), 107: "In despight of Fortune, Nature hath given 
 you a loving heart." " Morando " (III), 135 "• Hannibal's 
 hatred of the Romans was " nothing diminished through 
 olde age, neither yet through the alteration of his estate 
 and fortune, because the nature and qualities of manners 
 (viz. moral qualities) continueth alwaies." " Mamillia " 
 (II), 14: After enumerating Gonzaga's advantages of birth 
 and station : " And yet for all these golden giftes of Na- 
 ture, he was more bound vnto Fortune, which had bestowed 
 vpon him one only daughter." But in "Censure" (IX), 
 211, it is Nature that bestows the daughter. In "Mourn- 
 ing Garment" (IX), 127, 128, Nature and Fortune vie with 
 each other to confer gifts. "Farewell" (IX), 237: Far- 
 neze's daughters " were beholding to Nature for beauty, to 
 Fortune for wealth, and to the Gods for Wisdom and 
 vertue." "Vision" (XII), 260: " Fayre Mistresse, whom 
 Fortune hath made as miserable, as Nature hath formed 
 beautifull. ... I praise Nature for her workmanship, [and] 
 accuse Fortune for her tyrannic" Other passages : " Fran- 
 cesco's Fortunes" (VIII), 195; " Farewell ". (IX), 256; 
 
 26 
 
386 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 tions between human character or personality on 
 the one hand and the forces of environment on 
 the other, by way of the formula — ancient but 
 informed by the Renaissance with new vitality — 
 of Fortune and Virtue. 30 Now his imagination 
 
 "Mamillia" (II), 97, 109, 282, 287; "Censure" (VI), 
 183-4. 
 
 30 Virtue meaning the powers of personality, thought of 
 either as passively resisting or as actively opposing the 
 force of circumstances. As before, circumstances or en- 
 vironment are the province of Fortune. "Mamillia" (II), 
 162: "The incomparable constancie of Mamillia, which was 
 so surelie defenced with the rampier of vertue, as all the 
 fierce assaults of fortune could no whit prevaile." " Vir- 
 tue " may thus be associated or identified with any strong 
 human quality : Constancy in love, as in the passage just 
 quoted, and in " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 183, 184, 186. 
 Courage: "Spanish Masquerado " (V), 258. Counsel: 
 " Planetomachia " (V), 125; "Penelope's Web" (V), 
 172-3; Prowess: " Censure " (VI), 243. Fortitude: "Cen- 
 sure" (VI), 257; "Perimedes" (VII), 52-3; Wit: "Sec- 
 ond Part of Connycatching " (X), in. Foresight: " Philo- 
 mela " (XI), 115. Valor: " Orpharion " (XII), 84. Wisdom : 
 " Mamillia," II, 288 ; " Censure " (VI), 202, 208. Though 
 these qualities, summed up as " Virtue," are occasionally 
 said, like " Nature," to cooperate with Fortune, they gen- 
 erally resist her. One of Greene's favorite thoughts, closely 
 connected with his tendency toward the pastoral and the 
 simple life, is that Fortune can be "spited" by a silent 
 and contented endurance of her flouts : she rejoices to hear 
 her victims complain, but is grieved by their patient, con- 
 temptuous silence. So "Perimedes" (VII), 12, 26; " Ar- 
 basto" (III), 180-1, 250, 253; "Farewell" (IX), 262, 
 264; "Censure" (VI), 217. The thought grows naturally 
 out of Greene's favorite " situation " — a high born person 
 in retirement or adversity. This is the genre " De Casibus 
 Virorum Illustrium " ("Orpharion" (XII), 91-92: "The 
 chaunces of fortune, and fall of Princes ") ; which Greene 
 removes from its mediaeval association with tragedy, by 
 giving it a happy ending and adorning it with classical 
 sentiments about Fortune. The antithesis of virtus and 
 fortuna, indeed, goes back at least as far as Sophocles, 
 appears formally in Cicero and Virgil, as well as in Plu- 
 tarch and later writers, and is exemplified in literally 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 387 
 
 gives visual form, conventional or bizarre, tradi- 
 tional or peculiar, to Fortune 31 personified. Fi- 
 nally, his imagination, like that of Achilles Tatius, 
 employs Fortune as a vera causa, the mistress of 
 his plot, to begin his action, work its peripeteia, 
 furnish its moments of suspense, and accomplish 
 its denouement or catastrophe. Beyond this, 
 Greene's use of Fortune cannot go, nor is it skil- 
 
 innumerable passages in the literature and inscriptions of 
 the Renaissance. A few instances of its formal occurrence 
 in Greene may be noted: " Morando " (III), 130, 142, 
 hints that Greene may have known of the antique origin 
 of the formula. The Romans, it is said, " thought them- 
 selves more beholding unto Fortune for the greatnesse and 
 prosperitie of their Empire then to vertue," but " the Athen- 
 ians placed vertue above Fortune." Other passages, in 
 " Pandosto " (IV), 273; "Penelopes Web" (V), 159; 
 "Menaphon" (VI), 1 (title-page); " Perimedes " (VII), 
 61; "Tullies Love" (VII), 211 ; "Neuer too Late" (VIII), 
 59, 61; "Mourning Garment" (IX), 122; " Alcida " (IX), 
 23, 89, 93; "Philomela" (X), 169. The history of the 
 formula strikes deep into the history of literature and of 
 ideas, and is a subject rather for a volume than for a 
 foot-note. 
 
 S1 Fortune's wheel is no longer, as it was in Roman art, 
 a mere symbol, an attribute for an august goddess to hold 
 quietly in her hand or to lean upon. It has become during 
 the Middle Ages, and it remains in Greene, an active in- 
 strument upon which Fortune raises and lowers her vic- 
 tims. So "Perimedes" (VII), 55-6; "Censure" (VI), 
 174 ; " Arbasto " (III), 231 ; " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 123, 
 125; "Morando" (III), 133-4. In the last-cited passage, 
 and in "Alcida" (IX), 82, she stands upon a globe, and is 
 winged — (cf. Diirer's engraving known as " Die grosse 
 Fortuna ") ; in "Pandosto" (IV), 274, she is "plumed 
 with Times feathers"; in "Farewell" (IX), 256, she is 
 " like the picture of I anus, double faced " ; ib., 264, she is 
 blinded by her own spite; in " Mamillia " (II), 78, she is 
 blind again; in "Arbasto" (III), 179, her "counterfeit" 
 shows her " with one foot troade on a polype fish, and 
 with the other on a camelion, as assured badges of . . . 
 mutabilitie." This is a pure " emblem." 
 
388 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ful or consistent as it stands; but so far it cer- 
 tainly does go ; and not all his trumpery can con- 
 ceal the fact. 
 
 The only one of these intellectual or imagina- 
 tive uses of Fortune that need occupy us further 
 is the last. Greene uses three times the device of 
 a soliloquy overheard : in " Carde of Fancie " 
 (IV), 153 ; in " Perimedes, ,, and in " Philomela " 
 — a device distinctly fortuitous. In the first in- 
 stance, he says, " frowarde Fortune brought it so 
 to passe, that Valericus [who was Gwydonius's 
 rival and sought occasion to ruin him] coming 
 by the chamber of Gwydonius," heard him reveal 
 the fact that he was the son of the Duke's enemy. 
 A cruel father's finding of his daughter's love- 
 letters is also contrived by Fortune. " Planeto- 
 machia" (V), 81: Rodento having told his love 
 to Valdracko's daughter Pasylla, and received 
 from her a not unfavorable reply, " Fortune . . . 
 thought to lift him up to ye skies, yt she might 
 wt more violence push him down lower than hel, 
 and to bring this to passe she thus laid her plat- 
 forme. It fortuned " that Valdracko found Ro- 
 dento's letter and a copy of Pasylla's — an event 
 which set him plotting the atrocities that lead on 
 to the remainder of the tale. Fortune is here a 
 vera causa. So she is in "Perimedes" (VII), 
 27 (Boccaccio's story of Madonna Beritola). 
 Whereas Boccaccio had brought about his peri- 
 peteia by means of a semblance, at least, of nat- 
 ural causes, — letting the hounds drive one of 
 Beritola's kids to her protection, and thus effect- 
 ing her discovery and rescue, — Greene left this 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 389 
 
 matter to pure chance: "Fortune not brooking 
 her owne bitterness, seeing how patient the Ladie 
 [Mariana] was in her miserie, determined to add 
 some relief to her passions, which she brought to 
 passe in this manner. The Despot of Decapolis 
 and his wife . . . being one day rode on hunting, 
 by chaunce . . . lost their way, and happened into 
 that desert, where they . . . met Mariana." Earlier 
 in the story, Fortune had charge of the ship- 
 wreck, lb., 23 : " fortune who ment to make her 
 a mirrour of hir inconstancie, as it were entring 
 into a league with Neptune, drove hir upon the 
 coast of Decapolis." It is, of course, one of the 
 inalienable rights of Fortune to cast people upon 
 strange shores. She does this likewise in "Al- 
 cida" (IX), 15, according to one of Greene's 
 drag-net or blunderbuss assertions : " Whether our 
 unhappy Fortune, the frowardnesse of the Fates, 
 the constellation of some contrary Aspect, or the 
 particular destinie of some unhappy man had so 
 decreed . . . our barke by chance fell upon the 
 coast of Taprobane." This prerogative of For- 
 tune is well recognized by all who take ship. In 
 "Philomela" (XI), 172, "As the poore Coun- 
 tesse . . . little regarded to what port of Christ- 
 edom the bark made, . . . she slipt awaie . . . 
 and getting aboorde vnder saile, commit [ted] 
 her selfe to God, the mercie of the Seas, and to 
 the husband [ry] of manie hard fortunes." So 
 did Achilles Tatius's eloping party (II. xxxi). 
 Fortune uses her control of wind and wave in a 
 spirit of irony. In "Censure" (VI), 189, when 
 Maedyna and Vortymis planned to elope, " For- 
 tune willing under the suppose of their felicitie 
 
390 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 to hide the very substance of their myserie, 
 brought the wind about . . . faire for Samos." 
 She seems to possess a sort of grim sportiveness. 
 Maedyna had nursed her guilty passion for Vor- 
 tymis in secret (ib.), 185, "till at last fortune 
 willing in a sweete figge to present hir bitter 
 wormewoode, found such fit opportunity, that 
 Vortymis and shee met alone." The same pas- 
 sage is repeated almost verbatim about Procidor 
 and Marcella, in " Perimedes " (VII), 38. After 
 the death of Cimbriana's father, in " Censure" 
 (VI), 217, " Fortune seeing the Lady not greatly 
 checked with this mate, thought to sport [her] 
 selfe in the tragicall mishappe of this young prin- 
 cesse," and so brought fresh troubles upon her. 
 A courtier, a shepherd, and a clown love the shep- 
 herdess Mirimida, and each writes her a letter. 
 "Francescos Fortunes" (VIII), 204: "Thus had 
 Fortune (meaning to be merrie) . . . brought it 
 to passe that the three letters from the three rivals 
 were deliuered at one instant." Fortune brings 
 about a serious coincidence as easily as a comic 
 one. Philomela living in retirement in Palermo 
 is being sought by her father, her husband and 
 her friend. " Philomela " ( XI ) , 193 : " It chaunced 
 that either by Fortune or destinie " all three ar- 
 rived in that city at the same time. So malevo- 
 lent is the goddess in her grim irony that she 
 baits traps for mankind. In " Penelope's Web " 
 (V), 189, the dethroned Queen sends warning 
 verses to the usurper. 
 
 " Take heed, Ambition is a sugred ill, 
 That fortune layes, presumptuous mynds to spill/' 
 
 But if she is " varium et mutabile semper," that 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 39 1 
 
 very fact brings consolation ; for she will change 
 as well at her worst as at her best; hence, in 
 misery men may look for a happy turn. It is 
 thus that Lamedon comforts Sephestia after their 
 shipwreck (" Menaphon" (VI), 45-7); and it 
 is thus, in " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 160, when 
 Valericus and Thersandro are sent separately to 
 apprehend Gwydonius as a traitor, that " For- 
 tune, who after euery chip of mischaunce sendeth 
 some lot of good lucke, and after euerie storme 
 of adversitie, sendeth a quiet calme of prosper- 
 itie," arranged for him to be met and arrested 
 not by his enemy but by his friend, who let him 
 escape. 
 
 Typical of this real activity of Fortune is an 
 important incident in "Pandosto" (IV), 296. 
 The shepherd, Fawnia's foster-father, has left 
 home meaning to disclose to the King (Dorastus's 
 father), the circumstances under which Fawnia 
 had been found. Had this errand been accom- 
 plished, the King would have learned of Fawnia's 
 royal birth and would doubtless have consented 
 at once to her marriage with his son. " But as 
 [Porrus] was going, fortune (who meant to 
 showe him a little false play) prevented his pur- 
 pose in this wise. He met by chaunce" the 
 Prince's servant, bound for the ship on which 
 Dorastus and Fawnia were already embarked. 
 The servant feigning that the King was on the 
 ship, persuaded the shepherd to come aboard; 32 
 and of course kidnapped him and prevented the 
 disclosure. Hence neither of the kings knew 
 Fawnia, and her own father was about to put 
 
 ^Autolycus, meeting the shepherd, performs the same 
 function in " Winter's Tale," IV. iv, 824. 
 
39 2 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 her to death. The moment of last suspense in 
 the tale (see post, p. 426) is thus directly brought 
 about by the agency of Fortune, both in kidnap- 
 ping Porrus and in wrecking the lovers upon the 
 coast of Bohemia. 
 
 Such are some of the aspects which Fortune — 
 never, one may say, absent from Greene's mind — 
 assumes according as she is more or less removed 
 from his " focus of consciousness." Far from the 
 focus, and seen with the tail of his eye, she is a 
 word, ready to be applied anywhere, anyhow, 
 either without a meaning or with a meaning con- 
 trary to the realities of the case. Approaching 
 the focus, she becomes a quasi-r taHty, half visible 
 and related with some plausibility to other ab- 
 stract quasi-realities, human and non-human. In 
 the focus, she is a genuine force, very skilful 
 indeed to make things happen, and to put Greene's 
 personages into interesting situations: she is the 
 mistress of his plot. In all these aspects, in the 
 breadth of their range, and, throughout that 
 range, in the enormous frequency of Greene's 
 mention of Fortune, there is a strong resemblance 
 to Achilles Tatius. 33 
 
 Were there no certain evidence of direct bor- 
 rowing by Greene, the similarities just set forth 
 — similarities in rhetoric and style, and in the 
 use and abuse of Fortune — would at least prove 
 a strong mental kinship between the two writers, 
 would show that Greene was inclined, was ready, 
 to be influenced by Achilles Tatius. They would 
 probably do more: their cumulative effect would 
 
 88 Other aspects of Fortune in Greene seem to be derived 
 from Heliodorus, and still others from Longus. They will 
 be treated hereafter. See pp. 409 ff. and 43s ff. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 393 
 
 be to raise at least a presumption of actual in- 
 fluence. However this may be, the matter is 
 placed beyond doubt, and the probability ren- 
 dered a certainty, by the direct borrowings now 
 to be set forth. 
 
 It was said (ante, p. 379). that the presence 
 in " Clitophon and Leucippe " and in " Arbasto " 
 of the same faults in narrative method, was no 
 accident. The simple fact is that Greene took 
 his framework bodily from the Greek romance. 
 In both, the narrator is tempest-tossed ; arrives at 
 Sidon; makes a thank-offering ; makes it to the 
 
 goddess whom the { , s^nlans "} Cal1 AstarU) 
 then goes about looking at the sights ; sees a pic- 
 
 , f" Fortune "1 
 ture exhibiting the power of j « Love » j ; sees, 
 
 close by, a man moved by the sight of that pic- 
 ture ; asks the man to tell his story ; meets with 
 some reluctance on the part of the stranger ; but 
 at length hears the story, which is a story of 
 
 . . f " Fortune " 1 
 sufferings occasioned by j "Love" J* 
 
 Following are the passages arranged parallel : 
 
 "Arbasto" (III). 178 ff. "Clitophon and Leu- 
 (Opening of story.) cippe," I. i, ii. 
 
 (Opening of story.) 
 
 " Sayling towards Can- % / 
 
 die, 84 after that I had long StSw ctu daXarrt} ™Us • 
 time been tossed with in- - 'Evravtfa rjKw U ttoX- 
 fortunate tempests, forced \ov xct^wvo?, 
 
 84 The phrase " sayling towards Candie," is Greene's trans- 
 lation of a part of Achilles Tatius's e«*p <rs of Europa 
 (likewise at the beginning of "Clitophon and Leucippe"), 
 and occurs, ipsissimis verbis, in Greene's rendering of the 
 Europa passage, in his " Morando." See post, p. 399. 
 
394 
 
 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 by wind and waue, our 
 course not well guided by 
 our compasse, happily ar- 
 riued at the city of Sy- 
 don, where being set on 
 shoare, I straight with my 
 companions, went to offer 
 incense to ye goddesse of 
 prosperitie, which the cit- 
 izens call Astarte. Whith- 
 er being come, my deuo- 
 tions done, and my obla- 
 tions offered up, desirous 
 to take a view of the an- 
 cient monuments of the 
 Teple, I passed through 
 many places, where most 
 sumptuous sepulchres 
 were erected: which being 
 seene, as I thought to have 
 gone to my lodging, I 
 espied a Cel, having the 
 dore ope: [wherein sat an 
 old priest clad in satin 
 and crowned with gold, 
 who] leaned his heade 
 vpon his right hand, powr- 
 ing forth streames of 
 watrish teares, as out- 
 ward signes of some in- 
 ward passions, and held 
 in his left hand the coun- 
 terfeit of fortune. . . . 
 Willing to knowe both the 
 cause of his care, and 
 what the picture of For- 
 tune did import, [I asked 
 
 (raxrrpa tdvov ifxavrov rrj 
 twv &owiK<xiv 6ea. 'A<r- 
 rdprrjv avrrjv ot SiSwviot 
 Ka\ov(TLV. Kai irepuiov 
 ovv Kal rrjv aWrjv 7roA.1v 
 
 Kal 7rcptcrK07ro>v ra. avaBrj- 
 fiara, 
 
 6pu> ypa<f>rjv [viz. of the 
 Rape of Europa. When 
 I exclaimed upon the 
 power of love,] veaviV- 
 kos Kal avros 7rapcarTu><s, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 395 
 
 him for his story, and 'Eyw ravr av iSeUvw, 
 though he rebuffed me, I €<j>r), roo-avTas vj3pas e£ 
 persisted.] p. 183: If the Zpuros 7ra0wv. Kat ri 
 praier of a poore stranger TrcVovflas, ei7rov, a>ya#e; 
 might preuaile to per- He hesitated ; but soon 
 swade you to vnfold the told me what he had 
 cause of these your sud- suffered at the hands of 
 den passions, I shoulde Love. 
 thinke my former trauels 
 counteruaile[d] with this 
 your friendly curtesie." 
 Finally, he did tell me 
 what he had suffered at 
 Fortune's hands. 
 
 "Arbasto" was published in 1584; and so, 
 probably, were " Carde of Fancie " and Part I 
 of "Morando." "The card of phantasie " ap- 
 pears in the Stationers' Register on April 
 11, 1584. Of "Morando" Grosart mentions 
 (Greene, Works, III. 44) a "Part 1st, of 1584, 
 in the Bodleian"; and Storojenko (ibid. I. 75) 
 argues against any later date for the first edition, 
 as the Earl of Arundel, to whom it is dedicated, 
 "was committed to the Tower for high treason 
 in the following year." Both books were cer- 
 tainly printed in 1587; but if they first appeared 
 in 1584, that year saw the publication of all of 
 Greene's work containing direct transcription 
 from Achilles Tatius. 
 
 In " Carde of Fancie " one of the heroines is 
 Lewcippa; her father, the Duke of Metelyne, is 
 Clerophontes. 35 Her brother makes his way to 
 
 88 If Greene used an Italian version of Achilles Tatius, 
 the name Clerophontes may have come, with the change 
 of one letter, from Clitofonte or Cletofonte. " Thersandro " 
 points to an Italian form. 
 
39 6 
 
 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Alexandria, enters the service of the Duke there, 
 and becomes the friend of the Duke's son Ther- 
 sandro, who afterwards marries Lewcippa. The 
 daughter of the Duke of Alexandria is placed in 
 charge of a widow named Melytta. In "Mo- 
 rando" Greene uses the names " Panthia," " La- 
 cena," and " Sostrata." 
 
 In " Carde of Fancie " Greene puts into the 
 mouth of Valericus,. as a soliloquy, the invective 
 of Clinias against women. 
 
 " Carde of Fancie " 
 (IV), 37, 39-40 
 
 ..." Call to minde what 
 miseries, what mischiefes, 
 what mishappes, what 
 what woes, what wailings, 
 murthers, what care, what 
 calamities haue happened 
 to such as haue beene be- 
 sotted with the balefull 
 beautie of women. . . . 
 What careless inconstan- 
 cie ruled Eriphila? What 
 currish crueltie reigned in 
 Philomela? How incestu- 
 ous a life led A euro pa? 
 And how miserable was 
 that man that married 
 Sthuolea? What gaines 
 got Tereus in winning 
 Progne, but a loathsome 
 death for a little delight? 
 Agamemnon in possessing 
 the beautie of Crecida, 
 
 "Clitophon and Leu- 
 cippe," I. viii 
 
 • • • rjyvous av to. tS>v yv- 
 vauc&v Spd/xara • vvv <5e 
 kcLv aAAois Xtyots, 6<t(dv 
 iveirXyjcrav fJivOuv ywatKCs 
 rr)v (TK-qvyv. 'O op/xo? 
 
 ]&pi<f>v\r)s, &i\ofAq\t)<; fj 
 Tpdire^a, !§0evo/?oias ff 
 
 BiafioXr), 'Acpo7nys r\ 
 
 KkoTrrj, UpoKvrjs 17 <j<t>ayiq. 
 
 Av to Xpvo~r)i&o<z /caAAos 
 
 Ayafiefxvwv Trodrj, Xoifibv 
 
 tois "EWrjcri ttoicl' av to 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 397 
 
 caused the Grecian armie 
 most grieuouslie to be 
 plagued. Candaules was 
 slaine by his murthering 
 wife whom so intirely he 
 loued. Who was thought 
 more happie than the hus- 
 bande of Helena, and yet 
 who in time lesse fortu- 
 nate ? What hapless 
 chances insued cf the chas- 
 titie of Penelope? What 
 broiles in Rome by the 
 vertue of Lucreciaf The 
 one caused her sutors, 
 most horrible, to be slaine, 
 and the other that Tar- 
 quine and all his posteritie 
 were rooted out of their 
 regall dignities. Phaedra 
 in louing killed her hap- 
 less sonne Hippolitus, and 
 Clitemnestra in hating 
 slewe her loving husband 
 Agamemnon. Alasse Va- 
 lericus, how daungerous is 
 it then to deale with such 
 dames, which if theyloue, 
 they procure thy fatall 
 care: and if they hate 
 thee, thy finall calamitie? 
 
 Bpio-r/iSo? koAAos 'A^tA.- 
 Acvs, 7revdo<s avT<5 irpo£- 
 evet • lav exv y wai/co. Kav- 
 $av\r)$ Kakrjv, <f>ovevei 
 KavSavAryv ^ yvvrj. To 
 
 fx\v yap 'EAey^s twv yd/xiov 
 Trvp avrjif/e Kara. rrj<s Tpoias 
 
 aAAo icvp • 6 Se HrjvcXo- 
 irrjs ydfios rrjs <Tw<f>povos, 
 
 7TOCTOVS VVfX<j>LOV<S a7ra)- 
 
 Aecrev; 
 
 'A7reKTeivev c l7riro- 
 \vtov <f>i\ovcra 3>cu8pa, 
 
 KAvTaijU-vrjorpa 8' 'Aya- 
 jxe/xvova fir) <f>i\ov<ra. CI 
 itdvra toA/awo-cu ywatKCS • 
 
 KO.V ffuXuHTl, <j>OVeVOV(TL ' 
 KOLV (XT] <f)L\w<n, <f>OVCVOV(TL. 
 
 Greene substitutes Lucrece for Briseis, and 
 transposes Sthenoboea (misprinted " Sthuolea") 
 and Aerope ("Aeuropa"). Otherwise his list 
 reproduces Achilles Tatius's, and in the same 
 
398 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 order, dulling its edges with generalization, but 
 sharpening them again in the antithesis at the end. 
 Again, in " Carde of Fancie," Castania under 
 stress of conflicting emotions compares her case 
 to that of Achilles Tatius's Sicilian spring, where 
 water and fire mingle : 
 
 " Carde of Fancie " " Clitophon and I ,eu- 
 
 (IV), 80 cippe," II. xiv 
 
 "In which cursed case To yow tt}s SuceAudjs 
 
 alasse my care consisteth, irrjyrjs v8<op KCKepaa-fievov 
 
 for as out of the river t-^u -xvp' kcu cf>\6ya pkv 
 
 Cea in Sicillia bursteth ot//€i Karoidev air avTtj<: 
 
 most fearefull flames, and aWofievrjv avo>0ev. 0L- 
 
 yet the streame is passing yovn hi trot to vSuyp, 
 
 colde, neither is the water if/vxpbv io-rw olovn-ep xtwv, 
 
 able to quench the fire, kcu ovt€ to irvp virb tov 
 
 nor the fire cause the wa- vSaros KaTao-fiewvTai, 
 
 ter to be hotte, so the ovtc to v&uip V7r6 tov irvpbs 
 
 heate of hope flameth out <j>\eyeT<u ••• 
 of the chilling fountains 
 of feare." 
 
 Greene uses the same paradox twice more. In 
 "Alcida" (IX), 59, Meribates, who is cruising 
 about, comes by chance to Taprobane and falls 
 in love. He soliloquizes : " Soughtest thou to 
 abide the pleasures of Neptune, and art faine to 
 stand to the courtesie of loue ? Hast thou found 
 flames amidst the waues? Fire in the water 
 . . .?" In "Never too late" (VIII), 51, part 
 of "Isabells Ode": 
 
 " Her eies carried darts of fier, 
 Feathred all with swift desier, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 399 
 
 Yet foorth these fierie darts did passe 
 Pearled teares as bright as glasse, 
 That wonder twas in her eine 
 Fire and water should combine." 
 
 The longest of Greene's direct transcriptions 
 is taken, like the frame of "Arbasto" (ante, p. 
 393), from Achilles Tatius's opening chapters, 
 which seem to have appealed strongly to Greene. 
 Now, in " Morando," it is the romancer's €/c<ppacris 
 of Europa that he copies. 
 
 "Morando" (III), 56-7 
 
 Signior Peratio spied 
 hanging in the Parler a 
 Table most curiously 
 painted: wherein both the 
 sea and the land was most 
 perfectly pourtraied. The 
 picture was of Europa, 
 the sea of the Phenicians 
 and the land of Sydon: 
 On the shoare was a beau- 
 tifull Medow, wherein 
 stood a troupe of daintie 
 Damosels: in the Sea a 
 Bull, upon whose backe 
 sat a Dame of surpassing 
 beautie, sailing towards 
 Candie,™ but looking to 
 the crew of her compan- 
 ions from whom by sinis- 
 ter meanes she was sep- 
 erated. The painter by 
 secrete skill had perfectly 
 with his Pensill desciph- 
 m " Sailing towards Candle " 
 
 "Clitophon and Leu- 
 cippe," I. i, ii 
 
 i. 6pw ypa<j>r]v avaKeipivrjv 
 
 yrj<S afia Kal 6a\a.TT7j<s. 
 
 Evpu)7rr}s r} ypacj>rj. <I>oi- 
 viKoiv f) daXacrcra • StSwvo? 
 
 v rn • m 
 
 Ev tq yrj Xufiiov Kal 
 \opos Trapdivoiv. 
 
 *Ej/ rrj OaXaTTrj ravpos 
 tvrjyero, Kal rot? vcotois 
 Ka\r) irapOzvos i7r€Ka.9r)To, 
 
 €7rt K.prjrr)v tw ravput 
 7rAeovcra ••• . 'Ev o\ tw 
 tov Xei/xwvos reXct tt/dos 
 rats C7Tt BaXaTTav rrjs yr}<s 
 €K/3o\aZ<s tol? irapOevovs 
 Ira^ev 6 Ttyyir-qs. To 
 cryripua reus irapdcvois Kal 
 see ante, p. 393, n. 34. 
 
400 
 
 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ered the feature of their 
 faces, as their counte- 
 nance did seeme to im- 
 porte both feare and hope. 
 For seeing their Peereles 
 Princesse a praie to such 
 a prowling Pyrate, they 
 rusht into the seas (as 
 willing to be partakers of 
 their Mistresse miserie) 
 as far as feare of such 
 feareful surges would per- 
 mit them, but pushed 
 backe with the dread of 
 present daunger, they 
 stood vewing how cun- 
 ningly and carefully the 
 Bull transported his 
 charge: How Euro pa 
 araied in purple roabes 
 sat securely and safely 
 holding in her right hand 
 his home, and in her left 
 his taile. About him the 
 Dolphins seemed to leape, 
 the Syrens to sing, and 
 Triton himself e to tri- 
 umph. Cupid also in the 
 forme of a litle boy was 
 there most curiously paint- 
 ed, hauing the wings spred, 
 a Quiuer by his side, in 
 one hand a flame of fire, 
 in the other a chaine of 
 gold wherwith he drew 
 the Bull as by constraint, 
 and turning his head to- 
 
 Xapas koX <fi6/3ov ••• tovs 
 6(f>daX/xov<s avoitjaaai 7rpos 
 Trjv OdXaacrav • ••• ras 
 Xetpas ws on rov fiovv 
 wpeyov. E7T€^atvov axpas 
 Tr}<s 8a\dTTr)<;, 6<rov VTrepd- 
 v(n fxiKpbv ruiv rapcrwv virep- 
 e^etv to KvpxL • i^Keaav 8« 
 (3ovXecr8ai pikv ws crri tov 
 
 TCLVpOV SpafJLCLV, <f>O^CL(T- 
 
 dai Bk Trj OaXdrrr) 7rpoaeX- 
 Otiv •••. Tavpos iv p-ecry 
 Trj daXdrrr) iytypairTO 
 
 TOLS KvpXHTLV e7TO^OV/i,eVOS 
 
 ••• 'H 7rap0evos /mcVois 
 €7ra<d0r)To rots vwtois tov 
 (3ob<s ••■ Trj Aaia rov Kep(os 
 i^op-evrj ••• ij \Xxuva irop- 
 <f>vpa ••• 
 
 At X^P 6 ^ ttfW^>0) 8t€T6- 
 
 Tavro, rj pxv eirl Kepas, 
 rj 8' €7r* ovpav •••. TLepl 
 Se rov j3ovv u>p)(OvvTO SeX- 
 <£tves, tiro.i£,ov "Epwres •••• 
 "Epos elXxe rov fiovv> 
 *E/>a>s, paxpbv rraiSiOv, 
 
 f)Tr\wK€l TO 7TTC/0OV, TjpT'qTO 
 
 (fraptTpav, lK.pa.Tti to trvp- 
 
 <7T€0"Tpa7TTO 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 4OI 
 
 wards Iupiter seemed to 
 smile at his follie, and to 
 despise his deitie, that by 
 this means he had made 
 such a strange Metamor- 
 phosis. 
 
 Signior Peratio hauing 
 long gazed on this gor- 
 geous picture, both praised 
 his perfect skill that had 
 so cunningly made a coun- 
 terfeit of Nature by arte, 
 and also mused at the 
 force of Loue that had by 
 conquest caught so wor- 
 thie a Captiue, that at 
 length as one forced by 
 affection he sighing said: 
 O Gods that a childe 
 should rule both the 
 heauen, the sea and the 
 land. Don Silvestro see- 
 ing Peratio so sodainlie 
 passionate with the view 
 of a simple picture, taking 
 occasion herupon to enter 
 into further parle began 
 to crosse him on this 
 maner . . . 
 
 Alia kcu vire/u.ei8ta, wcrirep 
 avrov KarayeXwv on oV 
 avrov yeyove fiovs. 
 
 ii. 'Eyw Se kcu raXXa 
 ucv iiryvovv rrjs ypaa^rjs, 
 
 are 8' wv epoiriKos Trepiep- 
 yorcpov cfiXeirov rdv 
 ayovra tov fiovv "Epwra • 
 
 KCU OlOV, C17TOV, oipX eL 
 
 /8oe<£os ovpavov kcu y>}s 
 kcli 6a\aTTY)S. Tavrdfxov 
 Xiyovros, veavicrKos kcu 
 avros 7rapecrTa)s ■•* e<f>r) 
 ••• kt\. 
 
 The foregoing passage is notable, as being the 
 only e/c<f)pacTi$ in Greene. Later in the same 
 novel, "Morando" (III), 133-4, there is, to be 
 sure, a formal description of Fortune, which pro- 
 fesses to reproduce a painting of her "in the 
 27 
 
402 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Duke of Florence chamber " ; but the moralizing 
 commentary accompanying this description as it 
 proceeds, together with the verses said to be ap- 
 pended to the picture, leave no doubt that it is an 
 Emblem 37 rather than a true %tc<f>pao-i<;. 
 
 In still another passage of the same novel — 
 "Morando" (III), 77 — one of the personages 
 having remarked upon the suddenness of love is 
 asked what made him think of that, and replies : 
 
 "The picture of Andromeda and Perseus, which 
 hangs here before mine eyes, brought this to my 
 remembrance, for me thinke [sic] either Andro- 
 meda was passing beautifull, or Perseus verie amor- 
 ous, that soaring aloft in the ay re he did firmlie 
 loue before he did fullie looke, his eyes were scarce- 
 lie fixed ere his hart was fettered." 
 
 — A brief allusion to a picture which Achilles 
 Tatius gives in full (A. T., III. vi, vii). Greene 
 lets pass the chance for another €/c<f>pa,(Ti$. 
 
 In fact, Greene's talent does not lie that way. 
 He is distinctly deficient in descriptive power, 
 and seems to want almost wholly the feeling for 
 scenic " background." As will be observed later, 38 
 he fails when he tries to write a spectacular 
 Heliodorean ensemble-scene. His one description 
 of landscape 39 is brief and runs off into frigid 
 
 87 " Winged she was, and standing upon a gloabe, as 
 deciphering her mutabilitie. ... In the left hande, a wheele, 
 which she tourneth about continually . . . thereby giving 
 us to understand," etc. The verses end with this couplet : 
 
 " Which embletne tels vs the inconstant state, 
 Of such as trust to Fortune or to Fate." 
 88 Post, pp. 417-421. 
 ""Menaphon" (VI), 36 ff. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 403 
 
 mythology. He has something else instead of 
 the visual sense: he has an unfailing sense for 
 incident, and will tell what happened (not a bad 
 substitute) ; together with an unfailing didactic 
 vein (a very bad substitute indeed). The first 
 leads him to change subtly the description of 
 Europa even while he transcribes : his non-sen- 
 suous, non-descriptive, but narrative talent rejects 
 the purely descriptive, elaborately sensuous de- 
 tails of Achilles Tatius's picture, while it requires 
 him to keep those details which tell the story. 
 The second — his tendency to moralize — here re- 
 tains the details that are emblematic of the 
 power of love, which he, like his original, means 
 to make the theme of further discourse. This 
 allegorizing didactic vein finds the fullest expres- 
 sion in the Emblems that are scattered broadcast 
 up and down Greene's pages, instead of true 
 visual imagery. 40 Greene's one truly pictorial 
 description, — the " Europa " — is not his own, but 
 is borrowed whole from Achilles Tatius; and 
 although in the same novel with it are two other 
 suggestions foreV<£/>aW?(the " Fortune" and the 
 "Perseus and Andromeda"), yet Greene's weak 
 visual imagination can not be roused, even by the 
 highly pictorial Achilles Tatius, to make more 
 than an allusion out of the one and an emblem 
 out of the other. 
 
 There remain in Greene's works a number of 
 incidents and motifs whose provenance might 
 perhaps be in doubt if Greene's acquaintance with 
 " Clitophon and Leucippe " were in doubt, but 
 
 40 Cf. S. L. Wolff, " Greene and the Italian Renaissance," 
 Englische Studien, vol. 37, pp. 364, 369-72. 
 
404 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 which may now safely be ascribed to the influ- 
 ence of Achilles Tatius. Several of these occur 
 in " Carde of Fancie," one of that group of three 
 books, — the other two being " Arbasto " and 
 " Morando " — which, belonging to the early mid- 
 dle years of Greene's literary activity (1584- 
 1587), show Achilles Tatius's influence upon him 
 at its height. Guydonius, in a soliloquy over- 
 heard by his enemy Valericus, discloses both his 
 parentage and his love affair with Castania 
 ("Carde of Fancie," IV. 153-7). So in A. T., 
 VI. xvi, Leucippe, in a soliloquy overheard by 
 her enemy Thersander, discloses both her par- 
 entage and her love affair with Clitophon. The 
 defiant tirade of Castania in prison (" Carde of 
 Fancie," IV. 171), is reminiscent of Leucippe's 
 tirade against Thersander (A. T., VI. xxii), 
 though far inferior. The double wedding at the 
 end of " Carde of Fancie " — a brother and a sister 
 marrying respectively a sister and a brother — 
 looks like an intensified repetition of Achilles 
 Tatius's double wedding — of Clitophon to Leu- 
 cippe and of his sister Calligone to Callistratus. 
 
 In "Morando" (III), 76, — (another member 
 of the same group of books) — " Being all pleas- 
 antlie disposed, they passed away to supper with 
 manye pretie parlees, Don Silvestro only ex- 
 cepted, who was in his dumps : for the beautie of 
 Lacena had alreadie so battered the bulwarke of 
 his breast, and had so quatted his stomacke with 
 her excellent qualities, that he onely fed his eyes 
 in noting the exquisit perfection of her person" 
 — a reminiscence of A. T., I. v, and V. xiii. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 4°5 
 
 Immediately after the 1584-7 g rou P there fol ~ 
 low " Pandosto " (published 1588) and " Alcida " 
 (licensed December 9, 1588). Each contains a 
 momentary reminiscence of " Clitophon and Leu- 
 cippe." In "Alcida" (IX), 83, Meribates, " early 
 in a morning stepped into her [Eriphila's] bed 
 chamber, where finding her betweene halfe sleep- 
 ing and waking " he said, " Sweet mistresse^ I 
 feele in my mind, a perilous and mortall conflict 
 between feare and love." (Cf. Clitophon's con- 
 flicting emotions in Leucippe's chamber, A. T., 
 II. xxiii.) 
 
 In " Pandosto," IV. 310, 311, 314, Fawnia is 
 wooed by Pandosto with threats and verbal abuse 
 which distinctly recall Thersander's brutal court- 
 ship of Leucippe (A. T., xix-xx; VII. i). 
 
 "Philomela," published only in the year of 
 Greene's death (1592), was " written long since," 
 as he says in his Epistle Dedicatory (p. 109) ; and 
 " hatched long agoe, though now brought forth to 
 light" ("To the Gentlemen Readers," p. 113). 
 Indeed, it belongs not to the late realistic group 
 with which it appears, but rather, in kind, to the 
 1584-7 group, or to the " Pandosto "-" Mena- 
 phon" group of 1588-9. 
 
 Philomela's commitment of herself to a ship 
 whose destination she does not know or care to 
 know has already (ante, p. 389) been compared 
 with the similar embarkation of Clitophon and 
 Leucippe. The denouement of " Philomela " in a 
 final trial-scene is obviously modelled upon the 
 corresponding scene in Achilles Tatius. In " Phi- 
 lomela" (XI), 199-203, Philippo, weary of living 
 
406 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 because repentant of his cruelty to his wife 
 Philomela, accuses himself of a murder that he 
 may gain the boon of death. The person sup- 
 posed to have been murdered is all the while alive 
 and well, and appears in court in time to save 
 him. There are other particulars of this scene 
 which point to Sidney's "Arcadia" as an addi- 
 tional model, but so much is equally attributable 
 to the bizarre situation at Clitophon's trial (A. T., 
 VII. vi-xiii; VIII. ix) ; where Clitophon to gain 
 the boon of death accuses himself of the murder 
 of Leucippe, who is all the while alive and well, 
 and who actually appears at the second session of 
 the court. 
 
 Last of these miscellaneous borrowings from 
 Achilles Tatius is a scene in Greene's " Groats- 
 worth" (XII), 1 19-126. Roberto has introduced 
 his brother Lucanio to the courtesan Lamilia, with 
 whom he has arranged to fleece the victim and 
 share the spoil. Finding them amorous, he re- 
 marks that " some crosse chaunce may come. . . . 
 And for a warning to teach you both wit, He tell 
 you an old wiues tale. Before ye go on with 
 your tale (quoth Mistresse Lamilia) let me give 
 ye a caueat by the way, which shall be figured in 
 a Fable." She tells the Fable of the Fox, the 
 Badger and the Ewe, — showing that she distrusts 
 Roberto. He then tells the Novella of the Farmer 
 Bridegroom, as if to show-" the effects of sodaine 
 love," but really to hint that there's many a slip 
 'twixt the cup and the lip, and that she had better 
 play fair by him, or he'll spoil the game. This 
 reciprocal telling of tales to convey a covert warn- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 407 
 
 ing probably was suggested by the scene (A. T., 
 II. xx-xxii) where Conops and Satyrus exchange 
 fables with like purpose. 
 
 Such is the influence of Achilles Tatius upon 
 Greene. In only a single case— "Arbasto," where 
 it gives him his narrative framework, faults and 
 all, does it even approach the creative imagina- 
 tion at work. Everywhere else it gives either 
 single scenes, which Greene rather copies than 
 imitates, or, still more superficially, ornament that 
 is non-structural, that is easily detachable, and 
 that again is not so much inspired by Achilles 
 Tatius as transcribed from him. All this is quite 
 consonant with the superficiality both of Greene 
 and of Achilles Tatius. Greene, if anything, is 
 the shallower of the two. He is blind where 
 Achilles Tatius has a seeing eye ; he can draw no 
 character, whereas Achilles Tatius finds some 
 characters within his range ; he cannot sustain a 
 plot beyond novella-length, whereas Achilles 
 Tatius keeps up both interest and coherence 
 throughout his eight books; he is the slave of 
 Fortune, Achilles Tatius only her worshiper. On 
 the other hand, where Achilles Tatius is gross, 
 Greene is unstained ; where Achilles Tatius wan- 
 ders, Greene clings to the tale because he will tell 
 what happened ; and where Achilles Tatius's lust 
 of the eye lures him aside, Greene's innocent 
 blindness keeps him in the path. But their love 
 of clap-trap and tinsel, their essential superficial- 
 ity, makes them kin. Given Greene and Achilles 
 Tatius in contact at all, Greene is sure to take 
 from his predecessor much the sort of thing we 
 
408 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 have found him actually taking. Precisely so far 
 as Greene's work belongs to the literature of illu- 
 sion, it is fed by the work of Achilles Tatius. 
 
 Not so with Heliodorus. Greene's contact 
 with the "yEthiopica " is a contact on Greene's 
 best side, the side that at least endeavors to be 
 real ; the side that at least endeavors to draw 
 character, to construct plot, to depict monumental 
 background. Greene's predilection for a suffer- 
 ing heroine produces if not a character, at least 
 a type; his employment of oracles and recogni- 
 tion goes, in intention at least, to the foundation 
 of his plot ; and his striving for " pathetic " 
 ensemble-scenes is itself pathetic. What matter 
 that he fails, sometimes absurdly, in each of these 
 endeavors? Like his model, Heliodorus, magnis 
 excidit ausis. And it was the happy destiny of 
 one of Greene's Heliodorean plots, adorned with 
 pastoral detail from Longus, to be caught up by 
 Shakespeare, and translated. 
 
 Greene three times alludes by name to Thea- 
 genes and Chariclea. In " Mamillia " (II. 67), 
 Mamillia acknowledges her love to Pharicles : 
 "be thou but Theagines [sic], and I will try my 
 selfe to be more constant then Caniclia [sic] : no 
 torments, no trauayle, no, onelye the losse of life 
 shall diminishe my love." Pharicles later, in love 
 with Publia, reproaches himself for his incon- 
 stancy. After citing Regulus and others who kept 
 faith, he concludes (ib. } 91) : " What perilles suf- 
 fered Theagines to keepe his credit with Caricha 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 409 
 
 [sic] ? Pharicles, let these examples mooue thee 
 to be loyall to Mamillia." In " Alcida " (IX), 80, 
 Eriphila, like Pharicles, reproves her own incon- 
 stancy, and in almost the same words. She cites 
 two of the same antique examples, modifying 
 them so as to make the woman the pattern of 
 fidelity, and concludes : " What perils suffered 
 Cariclia for Theagynes?" — Greene also mentions 
 the Gymnosophists : "Mamillia" (II), 164, 278, 
 "Morando" (III), 118. 
 
 The assertion that future evils, though not pre- 
 ventable, are mitigated when foreseen by means 
 of astrology, occurs in Heliodorus (II. xxiv),and 
 is imitated by Achilles Tatius (I. iii). Greene's 
 repetition of it resembles rather the former pas- 
 sage. " Planetomachia " (V), 25-6: "This sci- 
 ence ('astronomie' = astrology) is very profi- 
 table to them that use it well. For whereas by a 
 perfect calculation prosperitie and fortunate suc- 
 cesse is prognosticated unto us, they breede in us 
 a delightfull hope that they shall ensue: but when 
 any sinister mishappes are foreshadowed and 
 foreseene, then they are less greeuous, because 
 they are zvarely lookt for, and so by time the 
 burden of such insuing daungers, by a prouident 
 foresight is somewhat mittigated." 
 
 Like Heliodorus's, too, are some of Greene's 
 uses of Fortune. As regards her function of 
 bringing about shipwreck, it would be risky to 
 assert in general that one of the Greek Romances 
 was Greene's source, to the exclusion of the 
 other. But in "Arbasto" (III), 178 ff., it has 
 been seen {ante, p. 393), the association of 
 
4IO THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the shipwreck with Sidon, Astarte, etc., stamps 
 it definitely as coming from Achilles Tatius. In 
 the same way, in " Pandosto " (IV) the associa- 
 tion of the two shipwrecks with the oracle, and 
 with the exposure and the restoration of a child, 
 stamps them as part of a more fundamental and 
 grandiose plan of the Heliodorean kind, wherein 
 Fortune serves as an instrument to work out 
 higher ends. In "Menaphon" (VI), 42, likewise, 
 the shipwreck follows closely upon the oracle, and 
 the denouement again consists of recognition, re- 
 union and restoration, with very specific resem- 
 blances to the denouement of the "^Ethiopica " 
 (see post, pp. 426-8). But the influence of 
 Sidney's " Arcadia " upon " Menaphon " is as un- 
 mistakable as that of the '^thiopica " ; and 
 with regard to elements common both to Sidney 
 and to Heliodorus, like the oracle and the ship- 
 wreck, it would be difficult to say which influence 
 preponderates. 
 
 Beyond doubt, however, is the source of 
 Greene's habit of speaking of Fortune as a maker 
 of theatrical situations, comic or tragic. Mariana, 
 cast away, and by shipwreck bereft of husband 
 and children, whom she believes to have perished, 
 exclaims ("Perimedes" (VII), 26): " Dispaire 
 and die, so shalt thou glut the rutheless destinies 
 with a most balefull stratageme; since thy hus- 
 band, thy children, have bene the first actors, end 
 thou desperatly such a dole full tragedie: let for- 
 tune see how thou scornest to be infortunate." — 
 A speech not in Boccaccio. 
 
 And at the end of the Second Tale, ib. t 51, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 411 
 
 " Fortune willing after so sharpe a Catastrophe, 
 to induce a comicall conclusion," reunited Alci- 
 medes and Constance. In "Pandosto" (IV), 
 258-262, the sudden death of Garinter, the heir 
 to the Kingdom, and of his mother the Queen, 
 together with the King's desperation at the news, 
 is spoken of as a " tragicall discourse of fortune." 
 In "Philomela" (XI), 155, "Fortune whose 
 enuye is to subuert content, and whose delight is 
 to turn comicke mirth into tragicke sorrowes, 
 entered into the Theater of Philomelas lyfe, and 
 beganne to act a baleful seane . . ." 41 
 
 The predilection for female character has often 
 been remarked as characteristic of Greene. To 
 say that he derived it from Heliodorus would of 
 course be "to reason too curiously"; but it is 
 worth noting again as one of the traits that at 
 least lay Greene open to the influence of Greek 
 Romance: — like his predilection for pastoral, or 
 his " tychomania." And in more than one re- 
 spect its results coincide with those of the same 
 predilection in Heliodorus. Most of Greene's fe- 
 male characters suffer and are true; his conven- 
 tional misogynistic passages, and his few sketches 
 of wicked women, are far outweighed by his 
 stories of women's chastity, fidelity and forti- 
 tude. 42 Incidentally, also, some of these excellent 
 
 41 Similar passages : " Perimedes " (VII), 47 ; " Pandosto " 
 (IV), 317; "Carde of Fancie " (IV), 192; "Never too 
 Late" (VIII), 60-61. 
 
 43 " Mamillia " is avowedly a defence of women against 
 their maligners, and is expressly philogynistic : (II), 106-7, 
 162-3, 173, 260-1. Its plot rests upon the fidelity of 
 Mamillia and Publia, and the treachery of Pharicles, who 
 is a "mutable Machauilian " (205). The appended Anato- 
 
412 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ladies, in learning to outwit Fortune by squirm- 
 ing, acquire a skill in dissimulation 43 that would 
 do credit to Chariclea. And on the other side, 
 Greene's wicked types include not only the court- 
 esan, 44 but also the amorous woman, 45 the De- 
 maeneta and Arsace of the "^Ethiopica." The 
 policy of dissimulation, too, extends to Greene's 
 men ; 46 the " Machiavellianism " of the Renais- 
 sance here coinciding with the Greek Romance 
 hero's reliance upon his nimble wits. These types 
 are scarcely worth dwelling upon, for they are 
 types and nothing more; still they are much the 
 
 mie of Louers Flatteries, in a letter from Mamillia to 
 Modesta, offers (254) a counterblast to each of Ovid's 
 attacks upon women. To the De Arte Amandi, which 
 teaches men how to inveigle women, Greene opposes (255- 
 264) directions how to resist " the fained assault of mens 
 pretended flatterie " ; to the De Remedio Amoris, which 
 (254) teaches men " to restraine their affections from plac- 
 ing their fancies but for a time," Greene opposes his 
 remedy (264-6) for ladies in love. But all this does not 
 preclude (54, 221-2) the usual witticisms ae conjuge non 
 ducenda, and concerning women's fickleness. — Other suffer- 
 ing heroines: Myrania ("Arbasto"), Castania (" Carde of 
 Fancie"), Bellaria and Fawnia (" Pandosto "), Pasylla 
 (" Planetomachia "), Barmenissa - ("Penelopes Web"), 
 Sephestia (" Menaphpn "), Mariana and Constance (" Peri- 
 medes"), Isabel ("Never- too Late" and " Francescos 
 Fortunes"), Maesia and Semiramis ("Farewell to Follie"), 
 Philomela ("Philomela"), Theodora ("Vision"), Argen- 
 tina (" Orpharion "). 
 
 43 Pasylla, in "Planetomachia" (V), 78; Sephestia, in 
 "Menaphon" (VI), 52, 63. 
 
 "Clarinda ("Mamillia"), Olinda ("Penelopes Web"), 
 Infida ("Never too Late" and "Francescos Fortunes"), 
 not named in " Mourning Garment," Lamilia (" Groats- 
 worth "). 
 
 "Rhodope ("Planetomachia"), Maedyna ("Censure"). 
 
 "Pharicles ("Mamillia"), Arbasto ("Arbasto"), Pan- 
 dosto (" Pandosto •"). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 413 
 
 same types that Fortune evolves in Greek Ro- 
 mance. 
 
 Greene's strength lies, however, not in charac- 
 ter but in incident. Greene borrows many inci- 
 dental situations, motifs, tags, and bits of orna- 
 ment from Heliodorus. Among such minor, non- 
 structural, borrowings, is what Brunhuber (p. 
 22) calls " das Eros Motiv" : a youth or maiden, 
 once an enemy to love and a contemner of the 
 cult, rites, or deity of Venus or Cupid, falls a 
 victim to the vengeance of the gods of love, and 
 becomes love's slave. So it was with Chariclea 
 before she met Theagenes; so (in imitation of 
 Heliodorus) with Clitophon before he met Leu- 
 cippe; so with Euthynicus and the nymph Rho- 
 dopis, whose metamorphosis is related as an epi- 
 sode by Achilles Tatius (VIII. xii). This theme 
 goes back to the story of Hippolytus, or further, 
 is a favorite motif of the Alexandrians and their 
 imitators, is found in Ovid and Virgil, and revives 
 in the Renaissance, e. g., in Poliziano's. "La 
 Giostra" (I. st. 12-44). Sidney, as has been 
 seen {ante, p. 308), uses it (and uses it structur- 
 ally) as the motive force of his episode of An- 
 tiphilus and Erona. In view of these other pos- 
 sible sources, an unqualified assertion that Greene 
 took his " Eros Motiv " from Heliodorus would 
 not be justified. The present merely seems a con- 
 venient place at which to mention this borrowing. 
 Greene uses it, as has been said, not structurally, 
 but ornamentally. So in " Alcida" (IX), 90-91, 
 " Venus seeing how my daughter Marpesia lived 
 carelesse of her loves, and never sent so much as 
 
414 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 one sigh to Paphos for a sacrifice: shee called 
 Cupid, complaining that shee was atheist to her 
 deitie, and one opposed to her principles : where- 
 upon the boy at his mothers becke drewe out an 
 invenomed arrow, and levelling at Marpesia, hit 
 her under the right pappe." Now the point of 
 the story of Marpesia is not her disdainfulness, 
 but her inability to keep a secret; so that the 
 Eros-motif really has nothing to do with the 
 story. It is used similarly, to adorn a lover's 
 soliloquy or as an ornate fashion of saying that 
 someone fell in love, in " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 
 66; "Pandosto" (IV), 275; " Planetomachia " 
 (V), 57~59> I2 9; "Perimedes" (VII), 69-71 
 (repetition of first passage in "Planetomachia") ; 
 "Menaphon" (VI), 37-42, 49, 55; " Tullies 
 Love" (VII), 106, 109. 
 
 More certainly borrowed from Heliodorus are 
 the incidents following. In "Philomela" (XI), 
 173, the captain of the ship in which the heroine 
 makes her voyage to Sicily falls in love with her, 
 and determines that she shall be his, will she nill 
 she. Just so does the Phoenician captain fall in 
 love with his fair passenger Chariclea ("/Ethio- 
 pica"). The captain of Philomela's ship, pur- 
 suant to his resolution, steps to the door of her 
 cabin, and overhears her soliloquizing within, 
 and calling herself by the assumed name Ab- 
 stemia. ("Philomela," 174-5). This parallels 
 the situation in the "vEthiopica" (V. ii) where 
 Cnemon at Chariclea's door overhears her solilo- 
 quizing within and calling herself by the assumed 
 name Thisbe. Achilles Tatius also imitated this 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 415 
 
 passage (A. T., VI. xvi), letting Thersander 
 overhear Leucippe call herself Lacaena. The re- 
 mainder of the incident in " Philomela " Greene 
 takes from Sidney's "Arcadia" (III. vi, 264- 
 264V), where Cecropia at Pamela's door over- 
 hears her prayer and vow of chastity, and is 
 abashed. So the Captain at Philomela's door 
 overhears her vow of chastity, is abashed, and 
 resolves to treat her with reverence. In " Mena- 
 phon " ( VI ) , 62, Sephestia ( Samela) , banished by 
 her father the King of Arcadia, but shipwrecked 
 upon the Arcadian coast, exclaims : " My natiue 
 home is my worst nurserie, and my friends denie 
 that which strangers . . . grant" — viz., hospi- 
 tality. Both the situation and the antithetic 
 phrasing are similar to those in "yEthiopica," X. 
 xvi, where Hydaspes exclaims (U 272-3) : "My 
 daughter . . . which hast in an ill time hapned 
 upon thine owne countrey, worse to thee then 
 any strange lande, who hast bene safe in other 
 countreyes, but art in danger of death in thine 
 owne . . . ." In " Planetomachia " (V), 129, 
 Rhodope, wife of Psammetichus, King of Mem- 
 phis, falls in love with her stepson Philarkes, and 
 shows him favor. Now Aeliah tells ("Var. 
 Hist.," XIII. 33) only the story of Psamme- 
 tichus's infatuation with the beauty of Rhodopis's 
 sandal, which an eagle had snatched up and drop- 
 ped in his lap, and of their subsequent marriage : 
 he says nothing about a stepson. 47 Greene tells 
 the earlier part of the story — the part about the 
 
 4T Neither does Herodotus (II. 134, 135) or Pliny 
 (XXXVI. 17). (Herodotus, like Heliodorus, says that Rho- 
 dopis was a Thracian.) 
 
41 6 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 eagle, the sandal, and the marriage; and then 
 proceeds to invent Philarkes and the guilty pas- 
 sion of his stepmother. Not quite invent, either, 
 for in the "^Ethiopica " he finds a Rhodopis at 
 Memphis tempting Calasiris (II. xxv) ; again at 
 Memphis he finds Arsace tempting Theagenes 
 (VII. xiiifl) ; and he finds the guilty passion of 
 Demaeneta for her stepson Cnemon 48 (I. ix-xii, 
 xiv-xvii). These he compounds, either inde- 
 pendently, or, as is more probable, under the 
 additional influence of Sidney's story (" Old 
 Arcadia," Clifford MS., y6v.) of Amasis and his 
 stepmother, — a tale oddly enough also located at 
 Memphis. 49 (See ante, p. 348, and post, Ap. B, 
 p. 473-5.) The origin of the whole series is of 
 course the story of Phaedra and Hippolytus; 
 while one of the scenes in Greene's treatment of 
 it — the visit of Rhodope to Philarkes where he 
 lies lovesick — is probably from the quasi-his- 
 torical legend of Stratonice and Antiochus. Last 
 among these minor borrowings of Greene from 
 Heliodorus may be noted the situation, in " Carde 
 of Fancie" (IV), 191, where Gwydonius, in com- 
 
 43 It is rather a temptation to think that Greene's novella 
 of the Farmer Bridegroom — " Groatsworth " (XII), 121-6 — 
 with its double deception, double rendezvous, qui pro quo 
 in the dark, and discovery, may owe something to Helio- 
 dorus's novella of the intrigues of Cnemon, Thisbe, and 
 Demaeneta — "^thiopica," I. ix-xii, xiv-xvii ; but the abun- 
 dance of similar material in fabliaux and Italian novelle 
 would render any assertion of influence here extremely 
 hazardous. 
 
 49 Rhodope or Rhodopis is alluded to in " Euphues," II. 
 166-7, and in Greene as follows: " Mamillia " (II), 200, 
 230, 280; "Carde of Fancie" (IV), 62; "Debate" (IV), 
 219; " Planetomachia " (V), 104 ff; "Penelopes Web" 
 (V), 175 (which also mentions Philarkes). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 417 
 
 bat with his father Clerophontes, "alwaies re- 
 ceived the strokes, but never so much as re- 
 turned one blow: till at last looking aloft, and 
 spying Castania [his mistress], his courage in- 
 creased, that, all feare set aside, he carelessly 
 flung away his sword and shield and ranne upon 
 his Father," made him yield, and was proclaimed 
 the victor. It is scarcely to be doubted that 
 Greene had in mind the moment ("^Eth.," IV. 
 iv) when Theagenes, fixing his eyes upon Chari- 
 clea, wins the race. 
 
 This same scene, — the denouement of " Carde 
 of Fancie " — may be considered, too, as the first 
 of Greene's major borrowings from Heliodorus, 
 — borrowings of more than single situations, 
 phrases or incidents, borrowings that are not 
 merely ornamental, but structural. Here we 
 have in fact, Greene's earliest attempt to write 
 an ensemble-scene in Heliodorus's manner. As 
 has been remarked, the scene is structural, in that 
 it forms the denouement; there is a trial by battle ; 
 this offers a spectacle for a numerous assemblage, 
 whose life and death depend upon the issue of the 
 combat, and who show appropriate pathos (pp. 
 189-90: " . . . all the Lords of Alexandria, clad 
 in mourning attire . . . , thinking this dismall day 
 should be the date of their destruction " ; while, 
 upon Gwydonius's victory — p. 191, "they of 
 Alexandria gaue a mightie shout") ; here are the 
 hero and the heroine ; here is the spectacular mo- 
 ment when he, looking up, sees her, gains re- 
 newed courage, and in her sight wins victory; 
 here, finally is the hero's theatrical disclosure of 
 28 
 
418 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 his identity, and recognition by his father, so that 
 (p. 192) " Fernandas and Orlanio stoode aston- 
 ished at this strange tragedie." Though ill- 
 written, this passage contains nearly every in- 
 gredient of the great scenes of the "iEthiopica," 
 and gives token of the deepening of Heliodorus's 
 influence upon Greene. 
 
 Structural too are the ensemble scenes in 
 "Tullies Love" and in "Philomela." At the 
 Senate House (VII. 212-13), " before the whole 
 state of Rome," there is held a trial of the dis- 
 pute between Cicero and Lentulus on the one 
 side and Fabius on the other. Cicero delivers an 
 oration ; the bystanders are duly moved ; and the 
 scene brings the story to its end. In " Philo- 
 mela" (XI), 167, the heroine's jealous husband, 
 Philippo, publicly accuses her and his friend 
 Lutesio of unchastity. He makes his speech be- 
 fore the Duke, Councillors and people of Venice. 
 "And heer Philippo ceased, driuing al the hearers 
 into a great mase, that the Duke sate astonished, 
 the Consigliadori musing, and the common people 
 murmuring . . . and bending their enuious eyes 
 against the two innocents"; who, after sentence 
 has been pronounced against them, make 
 speeches. Later, Philomela's father, the Duke 
 of Milan, comes to Venice to avenge the injury 
 done to his daughter. He has received from one 
 of the two Genoese who swore against her a 
 confession that their testimony was false. There 
 is a second trial-scene. Philippo, summoned to 
 the Senate House, brings with him the other 
 perjured Genoese, who likewise confesses ; where- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 419 
 
 upon {ib., 189) "there was a great shout in the 
 Senat house, and clapping of hands amongest the 
 common people." Philippo is overcome with re- 
 morse, and acknowledges his sin. Finally, there 
 is still a third trial scene, now in Palermo, which 
 brings about the denouement (ib., 203). Both 
 Philippo and Philomela having accused them- 
 selves of the murder of the Duke's son, the young 
 man appears alive. "At this the Duke start 
 uppe, and all the standers by were in a mase." 
 And when it further appeared that Philomela had 
 accused herself in order to save her husband, 
 "the Sicilians at this, looking Philomela in the 
 face, shouted at her wondrous vertues, and 
 Philippo in a sound betweene greefe and ioy was 
 carried away halfe dead." Pathos, evidently, and 
 " pathetic optics," 50 exhibited in a structural en- 
 semble-scene. 
 
 80 Almost overdone is the " pathetic optics " of the scene 
 in "Menaphon" (VI), 71-3, where Melicertus and Samela 
 meet at the shepherds' feast. When she entered, "her 
 eyes gaue such a shine, and her face such a brightnesse, 
 that they stood gazing on this Goddesse." She blushed so 
 that the girls themselves loved her. Doron jogged Meli- 
 certus (Maximus disguised) who "was deeply drowned 
 in the contemplation of her excellencie ; sending out vol- 
 lies of sighs in remembrance of his old loue, as thus he 
 sate meditating of her favour, how much she resembled 
 her that death had deprived him off . . . Menaphon seeing 
 Samela thus honoured, concerned no small content ... in- 
 somuch that euerie one perceived howe the poore swayne 
 fedde vpon the dignities of his Mistres graces. • Pesana 
 [in love with M.] noting this, began to lowre, and Carmela 
 [M.'s sister] winking upon her fellowes, answered her 
 frownes with a smile, which doubled her griefe. . . . Whiles 
 thus there was banding of such lookes, as euerie one im- 
 ported as much as an impreso, Samela, willing to see the 
 fashion of these countrey yong f rowes, cast her eyes abroad, 
 and in viewing euerie face, at last her eyes glanced on the 
 
420 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 The vindication of chastity by public trial oc- 
 curs four times 60a in Greene's works. Twice it 
 is based wholly upon the story of Susanna: 
 "Myrrour of Modestie" (III) and " Francescos 
 Fortunes" (VIII). In " Philomela," as just set 
 forth, Greene retains from the story of Susanna 
 the false witnesses, but adds the eloquentia and 
 pathos of Greek Romance. At its fourth occur- 
 rence — in "Pandosto" (IV), 258-262, — Greene 
 has wholly discarded the scriptural — or apocry- 
 phal — tradition, and has enriched his theme, itself 
 Heliodorean, with several elements from Helio- 
 dorus besides the eloquentia and pathos already 
 mentioned. In fact, the trial scene in " Pan- 
 dosto" is Greene's most ambitious effort in this 
 kind. Pandosto having accused his Queen, Bel- 
 laria, of unchastity, has sent to consult Apollo's 
 oracle upon the question. The embassy returns 
 from Delphi with the answer, sealed. It is to be 
 opened in the hall of judgment, in the presence 
 
 lookes of Melicertus ; whose countenance resembled so vnto 
 her dead Lord, that as a woman astonied she stood staring 
 on his face ; but ashamed to gaze vpon a stranger she 
 made restraint of her looks, and so taking her eye from 
 one particular object, she sent it abroad to make general 
 survey of their countrey demanours. But amidst all this 
 gazing, he that had seene poore Menaphon, how, infected 
 with a iealous furie, he stared each man in the face, fear- 
 ing their eyes should feed or surfet on his Mistres beautie : 
 if they glaunst he thought straight they would be riualls 
 . . . ; if they flatlie lookt, then there were deeply snared ; 
 if they once smiled on her, they had receyued some glance 
 from Samela that made them so malepart ; if she laught, 
 she likte ; and at that he began to frowne : thus sate poore 
 Menaphon, all dinner while, pained with a thousand iealous 
 passions, keeping . . . his eyes watchmen of his loues." 
 
 Ma Five times, if the denouement of " Menaphon " be 
 counted. (See post, pp. 426-428.) 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 42 1 
 
 of the nobles and commons, before the accusing 
 King and the persecuted Queen, who is to be 
 acquitted or convicted as publicly as she has been 
 accused. The oracle is read; the Queen is 
 cleared; "the commons gaue a great showt, re- 
 ioysing and clapping their hands " ; and the King 
 confesses, repents, and promises amendment. 
 But at this moment, word is brought of the sud- 
 den death of his son Garinter ; " which newes so 
 soone as Bellaria heard, surcharged before with 
 extreame ioy, and now suppressed with heauy 
 sorrowe, her vitall spirites were so stopped, that 
 she fell downe presently dead"; "this sodaine 
 sight so appalled the King's sences, that he sanck 
 from his seate in a soud," was carried away, and 
 (p. 262) remained three days speechless. "His 
 commons were as men in dispaire, so diuersly dis- 
 tressed: there was nothing but mourning and 
 lamentation to be heard throughout al Bohemia : 
 . . . this tragicall discourse of fortune so daunted 
 them, as they went like shadows, not men." 
 
 Greene, lacking the grandiose descriptive power 
 of Heliodorus, the sense of monumental back- 
 ground and spectacle, has yet, within his limita- 
 tions, done his best to make a Heliodorean scene. 
 Here we have, as the actuating cause of the as- 
 semblage, an oracle, and this is twice (at Delphos 
 and again when the scroll is handed to the King) 
 kept from the knowledge of the personages of 
 the story, so that for them there is an accumu- 
 lation of suspense, which increases their subse- 
 quent pathos. The estates of the realm then 
 solemnly meet in a great ensemble scene in the 
 
422 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Hall of Justice: there is a trial, and, at that, a 
 trial of chastity. This the oracle vindicates hier- 
 atically. The assemblage exhibits the appropriate 
 pathos. At this happy moment, affairs take a 
 sudden turn for the worse: Garinter dies, the 
 Queen dies, the King is stricken. Again there is 
 appropriate pathos on the part of the spectators 
 and hearers. They and the author call the series 
 of events a " tragicall discourse," and attribute it 
 to Fortune. Finally, the scene marks the trans- 
 ition from the first part of the story, which deals 
 with the fortunes of the older generation, to the 
 second part, which deals with the fortunes of the 
 younger. In its relation to the structure of the 
 whole, then, as well as in its internal elements, it 
 is strongly reminiscent of the ensemble passages 
 of Heliodorus, most of which are likewise transi- 
 tional ; but especially reminiscent of his denoue- 
 ment, where Chariclea's chastity is vindicated, 
 and the Delphic oracle fulfilled, in a similar scene 
 of spectacular publicity, pathos, and solemnity, 
 with similar use of theatrical terminology, and 
 similar attribution to Fortune. 
 
 It is the use of the Oracle, instead of the con- 
 fession of perjured witnesses to vindicate the 
 heroine's chastity, that chiefly distinguishes the 
 trial scene in " Pandosto " from that in " Philo- 
 mela." Greene's employment of the oracle, here 
 and in " Menaphon," is worth dwelling on. In 
 " Pandosto," from the point of view of the con- 
 scious imitator of Heliodorus, the oracle serves 
 in general to bring about an ensemble-scene and 
 to furnish the characteristic hieratic element. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 423 
 
 Specifically, in the economy of the tale, it serves 
 both to vindicate the Queen's chastity, and, like 
 the oracle in " iEthiopica," II. xxxv, to promote 
 the restoration of an exposed child ; for, it says : 
 " the King shall live without an heire, if that which 
 is lost be not founde." It is couched in plain 
 straightforward language; it is free from para- 
 dox ; is eminently structural ; and, again like 
 Heliodorus's oracle, it fulfils itself by devious 
 ways — the devious ways of Fortune under the 
 control of the gods. Not so the oracle in " Mena- 
 phon." That is merely a verbal riddle, and 
 serves only to keep the plot entangled and re- 
 tarded. Arcadia being afflicted with a pestilence, 
 King Democles sent to " Delphos " to get Apollo's 
 oracle, which (XI) 34 came couched in para- 
 doxical terms : 
 
 ". . . Dead men shall warre, and unborne babes 
 
 shall frowne, 
 
 And with their fawchens hew their foemen downe. 
 
 When Lambes have Lions for their surest guide, 
 
 . . . When swelling seas have neither ebbe nor tide, 
 
 . . . Then looke Arcadians for a happie time." 
 
 This turns out to mean that Maximius, sup- 
 posed to be dead, shall be found alive and fight- 
 ing; that Pleusidippus his son, yet unborn, shall 
 also fight; that the King and his daughter Se- 
 phestia shall masquerade as shepherds, and thus 
 provide lions, viz., royalty, as guides for lambs; 
 and that upon the coat of arms of Maximius and 
 Pleusidippus shall appear a swelling sea, — which, 
 being painted, has neither ebb nor tide! Of 
 
424 TJIE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 course, the attempt was to imitate the paradoxical 
 oracles in the "^Ethiopica " and in Sidney's 
 "Arcadia," but Greene has succeeded in produc- 
 ing only a quibble. 
 
 This absurdity Greene would fain make struc- 
 tural, by making Samela (Sephestia) set its ful- 
 filment as the condition upon which she will 
 wed Melicertus (Maximius — already her hus- 
 band, but unrecognized). She (p. 114) "vowed 
 marriage to him solemnly in presence of all the 
 shepheards, but not to be solemnized till the 
 Prophecie was fulfilled, mentioned in the begin- 
 ning of this Historic" Again the object of 
 imitation is in the "^Lthiopica" — this time 
 Chariclea's promise to marry Theagenes only 
 after their restoration to Ethiopia in fulfilment 
 of the oracle. But the condition set by Chariclea 
 is reasonable, for to her the fulfilment of the 
 oracle means, as she is perfectly aware, restora- 
 tion to her parents and her country; while the 
 similar condition set by Samela is quite without 
 reason or motive. The oracle does not, as far 
 as anyone has up to that point been informed, 
 concern her at all: she has not been connected 
 with it, nor can she know, as Chariclea knows, 
 that its fulfilment will restore her to her father 
 and her rank. Whereas in "Pandosto" the 
 oracle brings about a real peripeteia, in " Mena- 
 phon" it is only pseudo-structural. Without it, 
 the story would have begun, moved on, and 
 ended, exactly as it now does. 
 
 The King's jealousy is the genuine "moving 
 force " in " Pandosto." From it the remainder 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 425 
 
 of the story grows: the retreat of the King's 
 friend, the persecution of the Queen, and the 
 exposure of her daughter, with all its conse- 
 quences. And here again a structural element is 
 borrowed, with very slight change, from the 
 "^Ethiopica." It is to forestall the King's prob- 
 able suspicion about the parentage of Chariclea 
 that the Queen exposes her ("TEth." II. xxxi; 
 IV. viii). In "Pandosto" the King's actual 
 suspicion of Fawnia's parentage occasions her 
 exposure. (IV) 252: Pandosto " found out this 
 devise, that seeing (as he thought) it came by 
 fortune, so he would commit it to the charge of 
 fortune " ; and Bellaria, hearing of his resolve, 
 cries: "Alas sweete infortunate babe, scarce 
 borne, before envied by fortune, would the day 
 of thy birth had beene the terme of thy life . . . 
 (ib., 253) and shalt thou, sweete Babe, be com- 
 mitted to Fortune, when thou art already spited 
 by Fortune? . . . Let me put this chayne about 
 thy little necke, that if fortune save thee, it may 
 help to succour thee." The child's exposure be- 
 cause of her father's jealousy, the commitment 
 of her to Fortune, the addition of tokens which 
 the mother hopes may be of use to identify the 
 child if found, the agonized speech by the mother 
 when her child is exposed, — all these, even to 
 verbal similarities, are parallel in Heliodorus and 
 in Greene. 
 
 The exposure in " Pandosto " has its counter- 
 part in " Menaphon," — structural to be sure, but 
 quite unmotived — in the King's exposure of his 
 daughter, with her husband, her infant son, and 
 
426 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 her uncle, in an open boat. This act is the 
 " motive force " ; yet we never learn the King's 
 reason for it. Towards the end of " Menaphon " 
 (VI), 142 — however, we do find a borrowing 
 from Heliodorus that is both structural and mo- 
 tived. King Democles, in love with Samela, 
 orders that she and her favored lover Melicertus 
 be imprisoned together alone. The situation is 
 exactly analogous to that in the "yEthiopica " 
 (VIII. x), where Queen Arsace, in love with 
 Theagenes, orders that he and his beloved Chari- 
 clea be imprisoned together alone. Greene in this 
 case has improved upon his original. Heliodorus 
 assigns as Arsace's motive the desire to torture 
 the lovers by affording to each the sight of the 
 other's captivity : — a motive that no one with any 
 knowledge of human nature could possibly enter- 
 tain ; for of course the joy of the lovers at seeing 
 each other far exceeds their grief at seeing each 
 other in prison. Greene supplies Democles with 
 a much more plausible motive. Finding it im- 
 possible to gain Samela's favor, the King re- 
 solves that she shall die, and this under a con- 
 viction of unchastity. His confederate the jailer 
 is to bring the charge, to which the lovers' im- 
 prisonment together gives color. 
 
 The "moment of last suspense" is the same 
 in the "yEthiopica" (X. vii ff.), in "Menaphon" 
 (VI), 142-3, and in "Pandosto" (IV), 314-15: 
 A princess once exposed is restored to her father 
 the King, who, not recognizing her as his daugh- 
 ter, orders her to be put to death. 51 The 
 
 81 Greene in both " Pandosto " and " Menaphon " attrib- 
 utes to the King a motive not in Greek romance : Not rec- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 427 
 
 denouement . too is parallel, even to verbal simi- 
 larities, 52 in the "JEthiopica" and in "Mena- 
 phon." This will readily appear from the follow- 
 ing comparison; in which the "moment of last 
 suspense " is prefixed, for the sake of continuity : 
 
 "Menaphon" (VI) 
 
 142-3. Sephestia, 
 daughter of King Demo- 
 cles of Arcadia, having 
 been exposed, is now re- 
 stored, with her husband 
 Maximius, to her father. 
 She knows him, but he 
 does not know her, and 
 is about to have her and 
 her husband put to death. 
 Her son, though he does 
 not know Sephestia to 
 be his mother, remon- 
 strates with the King 
 on account of her beau- 
 ty, but in vain. Further- 
 more, Maximius and Se- 
 phestia decline to save 
 themselves by proving 
 their identity and their 
 marriage. The discovery 
 is effected, at last, by 
 the appearance of "an 
 olde woman attired like 
 a Prophetesse," who dis- 
 
 ognizing his daughter, the King falls in love with her, but 
 finding her resolved not to yield, would punish her with 
 death. 
 
 53 For which Greene's source was, apparently, Under- 
 downe's translation. 
 
 " ^Ethiopica " X 
 
 vii. Chariclea, daughter 
 of King Hydaspes of 
 Ethiopia, having been 
 exposed, is now restored, 
 with her husband Thea- 
 genes, to her father. She 
 knows him, but he does 
 not know her, and is 
 about to have her and 
 her husband put to death. 
 Her mother, though she 
 does not know Chariclea 
 to be her daughter, re- 
 monstrates with the King 
 on account of her beau- 
 ty, but in vain. Further- 
 more, Theagenes and 
 Chariclea decline to save 
 themselves by proving 
 their identity and their 
 marriage. The discovery 
 is effected, at last, by the 
 appearance of two old 
 priests — one a priest of 
 the prophetic god, — who 
 
428 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 closes the truth. The between them disclose 
 
 happy ending is the ful- the truth. The happy 
 
 filment of a Delphic ending is the fulfilment 
 
 oracle. of a Delphic oracle. 
 
 143. Pleusidippus U 263. " Persina . . . 
 
 "turned to the King, and said: O husband, what 
 
 sayd: Is it not pitie, a maide have you ap- 
 
 Democles, such diuine pointed to be sacrificed? 
 
 beauty should be wrapt I knowe not whether 
 
 in cinders? ... all the ever I saw so faire a 
 
 assistants grieved to see creature . . . What a 
 
 so faire a creature sub- beautifull visage hath 
 
 ject to the violent rage shee? with how couragi- 
 
 of fortune." ous a heart beareth shee 
 
 this fortune?" 
 
 In " Menaphon " as in the " ^Ethiopica," both 
 the concealment of identity and its hieratic dis- 
 closure are the more striking in that they are 
 quite without motive. Maximius and Sephestia 
 have not the slightest reason for not revealing 
 who they are ; and as for the old prophetess, she 
 is simply dragged in: she has never been heard 
 of before, and vanishes as soon as she has said 
 her say. In both respects, at the expense of 
 probability in his motivation and of structural 
 coherence in his plot, Greene has made a mani- 
 fest effort to parallel quite closely the ending of 
 the " yEthiopica." 
 
 Thus it is that the influence of Heliodorus upon 
 Greene goes deep. Unlike the influence of 
 Achilles Tatius, it does not cease when it has 
 given Greene incident and ornament, phrase and 
 tag; but it gives him the basis and structural 
 members of his romance — the actuating force, the 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 429 
 
 transitional scenes, the peripeteia, the moment of 
 last suspense, the catastrophe. 
 
 Yet Greene, it should be remembered, is in- 
 capable of fully utilizing this legacy of form. 
 The outcome of his labors is very different from 
 the well-nigh faultless joinery exhibited in the 
 "iEthiopica." He often leaves his personages 
 uncharacterized or inconsistently characterized, 
 their actions unmotived or foolishly motived, his 
 plot wanting in essential links. He defeats ex- 
 pectation, not deliberately, but from forgetfulness 
 or sheer incompetence. Near the beginning of 
 "Mamillia" (II), 15, we hear of Florion, who, 
 serving with Mamillia at the court of the Duke 
 of Venice, has formed with her a friendship 
 founded upon virtue. (16) He has had experi- 
 ence of women's wiles, and has gained wisdom. 
 (18) He retires from court to the country at 
 Sienna, and persuades Mamillia likewise to retire, 
 to her father's house in Padua. (37-9) She re- 
 ceives a letter from him, warning her to beware 
 of love. All this leads us to expect either that he 
 will be the hero of the story, a virtuous cynical 
 contemplative malcontent like Euphues (whom so 
 far he has emulated), and a possible rival to the 
 Machiavellian Pharicles, or that, if he is not to 
 be a suitor to Mamillia, at least he is to be kept 
 for future use, that he may prove a true friend 
 when Pharicles has deserted her. But, after the 
 comment (42) on his letter, nothing more is heard 
 of him. He has been made only to be thrown 
 away. He is not like the messenger whom He- 
 liodorus created, and dropped when he had deliv- 
 
43° THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ered his message ("JEth.," VI. iii, iv) or even like 
 Greene's own awkward " prophetesse " in " Mena- 
 phon" (ante, pp. 427-8) ; for both of these had 
 at least a place in the economy of the tale, and 
 neither of them was at all characterized; while 
 Florion is characterized at least in outline, and at 
 the same time has nothing to do with the story. 
 He is a false start, not erased from a finished 
 work. Later in " Mamillia " (II. 135), Phar- 
 icles goes into voluntary exile in Sicily — why, no 
 man knows. For it does not appear that Ma- 
 millia's family are seeking to punish him for his 
 abandonment of her, or that he is retiring in 
 order to overcome his new love for Publia — each 
 a. possible motive. There he is — and that is all. 
 So it is in numerous instances throughout 
 Greene's works. 53 But nothing exhibits more 
 strikingly Greene's essential weaknesses in char- 
 acterization and structure than " Menaphon " it- 
 self. Framed, as has been seen, upon the model 
 of the "yEthiopica," and with the additional ad- 
 vantage of an English pattern in Sidney's 
 "Arcadia," it is nevertheless the loosest thing 
 Greene ever wrote. At the beginning (VI. 33) 
 Democles is said to be " a man as iust in his cen- 
 sures as royall in his possessions, as carefull for 
 the weale of his countrey, as the continuance of 
 his diadem." But later we learn (ib., 113) that, 
 utterly without motive, he " committed his daugh- 
 ter with her tender babe, her husbande Maximus, 
 and Lamed on, his unckle, without oare or 
 mariner to the furie of the merciles waves " ; the 
 
 63 E. g n 4t Carde of Fancie " (IV), 124-5, as against 140- 
 141; " Planetomachia " (V), passim, 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 43 1 
 
 result being that "his Queen with Sephestiaes 
 losse (who she deemed to be dead) tooke such 
 thought, that within short time after she died." 54 
 Moreover (ib.) "he spent his time in all kinde 
 of pleasures that either art or expence might 
 affoord, so that for his dissolute life he seemed 
 another Heliogabalus." And the remainder of 
 his conduct throughout the second half of the 
 tale wholly contradicts the initial assertion about 
 him. Menaphon himself, who as a sort of a 
 pastoral hero is meant to have our sympathy, 
 turns Samela out of his house with insults (101, 
 2) because she rejects his love. Pleusidippus's 
 shield, we learn (112) bears the device of Venus 
 on the waves because he has been carried off 
 by pirates. So this was not a family coat of 
 arms. But when he fights (132-5) with his 
 father, the latter bears the same device, and each 
 is angry at the other's presumption. Samela, 
 recognizing her father but unrecognized by him, 
 allows him to woo her, and says nothing about 
 their relationship. Pleusidippus her son, when 
 he was stolen from her by pirates, was a well- 
 grown boy, already a leader among his comrades, 
 and certainly old enough to know his mother by 
 sight and as a shepherdess named Samela. Yet 
 back he comes to woo her, in ignorance, Greene 
 would have us believe, of the fact that she is his 
 mother. What Greene must bring about, in the 
 face of nature, is this preposterous situation: a 
 woman, betrothed to her husband, and courted 
 
 64 Cf. "Pandosto" (IV), 261: Bellaria's death follows 
 closely upon the exposure of one of her children and the 
 death of another. 
 
432 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 by her father and her son! 55 Apparently he 
 seeks to outdo the famous situation in Sidney's 
 "Arcadia": a man betrothed to a maiden and 
 courted by her father and her mother. In like 
 manner the absurd condition imposed by 
 Sephestia — that the oracle must be fulfilled be- 
 fore she will marry Maximius (ante, p. 424) ; the 
 absurd silence of the pair as to their identity 
 (ante, p. 427) ; and the absurd old woman who 
 discloses it (ante, p. 428) ; are all due to Greene's 
 desire to emulate the "yEthiopica." In " Mena- 
 phon" at least, the imitation of Greek Romance 
 is a hindrance rather than a help. It is other- 
 wise in " Pandosto," the best of Greene's works, 
 and the one which, as has been said, most fully 
 exhibits the influence of Greek Romance. The 
 final discussion both of " Pandosto " and of 
 " Menaphon " is reserved until after a considera- 
 tion of Greene's indebtedness to Longus. 
 
 Common to Greene and Longus, if not derived 
 from Longus by Greene, is the employment of 
 the pastoral as "an element in the harmonious 
 solution of a longer story," 56 a story of city or 
 court. The long tradition of which this is a 
 phase probably includes, broadly speaking, all 
 those escapes from the life active to the life con- 
 templative which afford relief to the course of 
 epic narration: escapes to the Lower World, or 
 to Fortunate Islands, or — as in Tasso's epic — to 
 the country as well. Specifically, however, the 
 
 85 Cf. Wolff, "Greene and the Italian Renaissance," 
 p. 35i. 
 
 66 C. H. Herford, ed. "The Eversley Shakespeare": In- 
 troduction to " The Winter's Tale," Vol. IV, p. 268. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 433 
 
 pastoral as a Renaissance genre is not so used, at 
 least in its chief Italian examples: in Sannazaro 
 there is only a suggestion — and that cryptic — of 
 some grief which the author has suffered in 
 Naples, and for which he seeks solace among the 
 shepherds ; the " Aminta " is purely a " favola 
 boschereccia " ; and the "Pastor Fido," despite 
 its elaborate apparatus of oracles, messengers, 
 restorations, and recognitions (partly from Greek 
 tragedy, partly from Greek romance) is also 
 without the slightest urban enveloping action. 
 Possibly, then, this employment of the pastoral is 
 distinctive of Elizabethan fiction; at all events 
 it is very general there. It occurs in Sidney's 
 "Arcadia"; in Wiliam Warner's 57 story (in 
 verse) of Argentile and Curan ("Albions Eng- 
 land," IV. 20) ; in Lodge's " Rosalynde " (and 
 in "As You Like It"); in Greene's "Tullies 
 Love," "Menaphon" and " Pandosto " (and in 
 "The Winter's Tale"). 
 
 The gentle ridicule of rustic speech, manners 
 and attire has been remarked {ante, p. 122) as a 
 natural result of the urban point of view. This 
 ridicule is also common to Longus and Greene, if 
 not derived by Greene from Day's paraphrase of 
 "Daphnis and Chloe." "Pandosto," containing 
 Greene's first pastoral, appeared in 1588, a year 
 later than Day's paraphrase; and it makes fun 
 of Porrus's holiday array (IV. 296) very much 
 as Day makes fun of Dorcon's efforts to render 
 himself clean and acceptable in Chloe's sight. 
 
 87 Warner was acquainted with Heliodorus, whom he imi- 
 tated in " Pan his Syrinx," a collection of prose tales 
 based on the "iEthiopica." Oeftering, 96. 
 29 
 
434 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 (Day 22-4; not in the original or in Amyot, but 
 part of Day's interpolation to fill the lacuna. 
 See post, Ap. A, p. 465-6.) Greene's other works 
 that contain a pastoral element exhibit in every 
 case this same ridicule. "Menaphon" (VI), 
 135-139, describes comically the rustic courtship 
 of Doron and Carmela, (ib.) 119 quotes Doron's 
 description of Samela in homely language full 
 of bombast and bathos, and (ib.) 56-7 makes 
 fun of Menaphon's own russet jacket and round 
 slop, and of his honest russet and kersey efforts 
 to entertain the fine folk his guests. In " Fran- 
 cescos Fortunes" (VIII), 184 ff, the pastoral tale 
 told by the host "describes a comical ugly shep- 
 herd Mullidor, and his old mother Callena, who 
 is proud of her lumpish son. In " Mourning 
 Garment" (IX), 141-4, Philador finds in 
 Thessaly a shepherd and his wife, whose homely 
 costume — russet cloak, green coat, scarlet cas- 
 sock, and the rest, — is detailed with a smile. In 
 "Farewell to Folly" (IX), 265, Maesia, daugh- 
 ter of the exiled Countie Selydes, retires to the 
 country to seek work, and encounters a wealthy 
 farmer's son who takes her into his parents' ser- 
 vice. His holiday finery is minutely described: 
 " a strawne hat steeple-wise . . . tawnye worsted 
 iacket ... a pair of hose of red kersie, close 
 trust with a point afore ... his pompes were a 
 little too heauie, being trimmed start-vps made 
 of a paire of boote legges." The everyday 
 clothes and the wedding outfit of Tomkins the 
 Wheelwright and Kate the Milkmaid, in " Vision " 
 (XII), 224-5, ar e similarly ridiculed. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 435 
 
 Greene agrees with Longus again in (theo- 
 retically at least) excluding from his pastoral 
 the activity of Fortune. Life among the shep- 
 herds is secure ; for " Fortune is blinde, and must 
 either misse of her aime, or shoote at a great 
 marke: her boltes flie not so lowe as beggerie." 
 (''Farewell," IX. 282.) That they who are 
 down need fear no fall, is one of Greene's 
 favorite sentiments 58 (cf. ante, p. 381); in 
 general, " the poore estate scornes fortunes angrie 
 frowne" (" Farewell, " IX. 279) and to retire to 
 the country is to safeguard oneself against her 
 vicissitudes. " Royal Exchange " (VII), 242-3: 
 " Scipio the Affrican after all his glorious vic- 
 tories sequestrating himselfe in a graunge place, 
 beeing demanded why he woulde not live any 
 longer in the Commonwealth, aunswered, for that 
 [he was] flying from the iniuries of Fortune." 
 But in practice Greene admits Fortune as a vera 
 causa into his pastorals. Samela, Maximius, 
 and Pleusidippus, in " Menaphon," and Fawnia, 
 in " Pandosto," are still the playthings of For- 
 tune after they have gone to live among the 
 shepherds. In fact, Greene speaks of " Mena- 
 phon " as a " pastorall historie, conteyning the 
 manifolde iniuries of fortune" (Epistle Dedica- 
 tory, VI. 5-6) ; and again, at the end of the 
 tale (145-6), as "this pastorall accident" — 
 which is precisely what it is. 
 
 The substitution by Longus of Love in For- 
 
 63 "Menaphon" (VI), 38-9, 48-9; " Perimedes " (VII), 
 42, 59 ; " Farewell " (IX), 263, 279, 282 ; " Penelopes Web " 
 (V), 178, 183, 185; "Pandosto" (IV), 249, 282; "Philo- 
 mela" (XI), 192. 
 
43$ THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 tune's place is paralleled, in Greene, by so close 
 an association of Love and Fortune that Greene 
 often leaves in doubt which of them is the vera 
 causa. In "Censure" (VI), 180, Maedyna, 
 struggling against her lawless passion for Vorty- 
 mis, hopes " that time would weare out that 
 which fond Love and Fortune had wrought." In 
 "Menaphon" (VI) Love and Fortune are com- 
 pared, and railed at together, 59 and (ib., 103) 
 Menaphon complains : " Love and Fortune 
 proves my equall foes." In "Planetomachia " 
 (V), 113, Psammetichus hearing that the woman 
 he loves is Rhodope the courtesan, "beganne in 
 most cruel termes to exclaime against Love and 
 Fortune." 60 Together, Love and Fortune favor 
 the bold. 61 Love itself is the effect of Fate or 
 
 69 " The thoughtes of a lover never continue scarce a 
 minute in one passion, but as Fortunes globe, so is fancies 
 seate variable and inconstant." 
 
 Cf. Propertius, II. viii : 
 
 Omnia vertuntur, certe vertuntur amores : 
 Vinceris, aut vincis, haec in amore rota est. 
 
 On an antique engraved gem, Eros is represented on 
 Fortune's wheel (Furtwangler, " Berlin " 6767 ; Reinach, 
 plate 75, no. 26). 
 
 60 Other passages in which Love and Fortune cooperate, 
 with functions undifferentiated: " Pandosto," IV. 281; 
 u Perimedes," VII. 47 ; " Never too Late," VIII. 43, 65 ; 
 " Francescos Fortunes," VIII. 134; " Alcida," IX. 67, 93; 
 "Mourning Garment," IX. 158; "Philomela," XL 174; 
 " Orpharion," XII. 39. In still other passages, Love is 
 opposed by Fortune, the Fates, etc., and thus becomes a 
 phase of Virtu (cf. ante, p. 386, n. 30). In " Censure," VI, 
 160, Achilles declares: " Exteriour actions are tyed to the 
 Wynges of Fortune, but thoughts as they are passionate, 
 so they are within the compasse of Fancy." Fortune is 
 against Love in " Carde of Fancie," IV. 55, 148, 154-5, 169, 
 183, 184, 186; "Censure," VI. 186-7; "Pandosto," IV. 
 290; "Tullies Love," VII. 188-9. 
 
 n " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 80 ; " Alcida " (IX), 33-4, 35. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 437 
 
 Fortune; it is destined, and hence irresistible. 62 
 Love also shares Fortune's function of bringing 
 about those bizarre situations which lead to anti- 
 thesis and oxymoron. In "Tullies Love" 
 (VII), 140, Flavia exclaims: "With what little 
 proportion doth iniurious love bestowe his 
 favors? With how small regarde doth blinde 
 fortune powre out hir treasures? Making in all 
 their actions contrarieties, 63 that so they may 
 triumph." Here, of course, Greene's practice 
 coincides with the Petrarchistic tradition of the 
 Renaissance, which expresses love conventionally 
 by means of "contrarieties"; 64 but it would be 
 
 «" Philomela" (XI), 127; "Alcida" (IX), 37; " Mo- 
 rando " (III), 99-108; " Arbasto " (III), 213; " Carde of 
 Fancie " (IV), 92, 121, 169. For the same reason, Love is 
 paramount to law, to friendship, to filial duty, — to every 
 other consideration whatever. So " Carde of Fancie " (IV), 
 69-70, 79, 190-191 ; " Pandosto " (IV), 237-8, 277 ; " Plane- 
 tomachia" (V), 62; "Censure" (VI), 178; " Perimedes " 
 (VII), 73; "Alcida" (IX>, 32; — (the last five passages 
 repeating each other almost verbatim) — ; "Philomela" 
 (XI), 140; "Orpharion" (XII), 30-31. 
 
 63 " Contrarieties " is the regular term for the antitheses 
 growing out of a difficult situation. Pettie, " Pallace of 
 Pleasure," fol. 57V. (quoted by Bond) : "... departed 
 into her chamber . . . where she entred with herselfe into 
 these contrarities " [sic], Lyly, " Euphues," I. 205 : Lu- 
 cilla, "all the company being departed to their lodgings, 
 entred into these termes and contrarieties." In each case 
 there follows the usual antithetical soliloquy. 
 
 •* " Arbasto," III. 203 : Love is " a paine shadowed with 
 pleasure, and a ioy stuffed with miserie." (Repeated ver- 
 batim in "Alcida," IX. 40.) "Debate," IV. 221: 
 how many sundrie passions doe perplexe the poore pas- 
 sionate Louers . . . : as to have ones heart separated from 
 himselfe, to bee now in peace and then in war, . . . seek- 
 ing that carefullie which hee seemeth to flie, and yet 
 doubtfullie dreading not to finde it ... to burne in colde 
 
43$ THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 hazardous to say that Greene was not affected by 
 the antithetical treatment of love in " Daphnis 
 and Chloe." 65 
 
 Greene's direct borrowings from Longus are 
 few. In " Menaphon," VI. 91 the abduction of 
 Pleusidippus parallels in some detail the abduc- 
 tion of Daphnis ("D and C," I. xxviii; Day, 
 41-2). Both abductions are accomplished by 
 pirates who have stolen cattle, but who at sight 
 of the boy desire him more than their other 
 booty. The passages are here transcribed. 
 
 and freeze in heate, to bee crossed altogether with con- 
 traries." " Alcida," IX. 31: " Louers . . . count not them- 
 selves happy, but in their supposed vnhappinesse : beeing at 
 most ease in disquiet ; at greatest rest, when they are most 
 troubled ; seeking contentation in care, delight in misery, 
 and hunting greedily after that which alwaies breedeth 
 endlesse harme." 
 
 65 Some miscellaneous phases of love-doctrine common to 
 Greene and to Greek Romance may be noted here. Love 
 enters the heart through the eye : " Menaphon," VI. 63, 85 ; 
 " Mourning Garment," IX. 168-9. Lovers' souls meet in a 
 kiss: " Philomela," XI. 124. Love feeds the eye and closes 
 the stomach : " Menaphon," VI. 54, 57 ; " Tullies Love," 
 VII. 116; "Alcida," IX. 79; "Mourning Garment," IX. 
 166-7; " Orpharion," XII. 70-72. Love gives the lover 
 virtue and courage : " Morando," III.V90 ff ; in fact it 
 metamorphoses his character : " Carde of Fancie," IV. 48-9 ; 
 " Tullies Love," VII. 185-9 (cf. ante, p. 374). Throughout 
 his earlier works Greene continually alludes to Greek erotic 
 legends ; e. g., " Morando," III. 67 Danae ; Cephalus and 
 Procris ; 70 Eriphile ; 73 Phillis and Demophon ; Paris and 
 Oenone ; Ulisses and Circes ; Campaspe, Apelles, and Alex- 
 ander ; 82 Polipheme and Galatea ; 83 Ariadne ; Medea ; 
 105 Echo and Narcissus; Salmacis; Biblis ; Hylonome ; 115 
 Achillis and Polixena. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 439 
 
 "Daphnisand Day, 41-2 "Menaphon," 
 
 Chloe," I. VI. 91 
 
 xxviii 
 
 TvptoL XrjaTal " Certaine ro- " Pleusidippus 
 
 - ^WavViws uers of T y re 0n a time 
 
 v ~ A robbed and spoil- walking on the 
 
 , , \ ed the seehe Dor- shore, . . . there 
 
 /3aVOV(TLV K<XL TOV ^ Qf ^j his arrived on the 
 
 Aa<^>vtv aXvovra beastes and cat- strond a Thes- 
 
 irapa rrjv OaXacr- tell . . . And salian Pirate 
 
 o-av. MSovresSe coursing as they named Eurilo- 
 
 / ' were up and down chus, who after 
 
 fxeipajaov fxtya .^ ^ Island, he had forraged 
 
 Kot KaAov icpar- Daphnis by m in the Arcadian 
 
 tov TTjs «£ &y- hap walking on confines, driuing 
 
 po>v dp7ray^?, the sea-banke, before him a 
 
 fXTjKtTL fxrjBkv es was by themsur- large bootie of 
 
 ra ? atyas, prfi P rised > • • ■ * he h *.* at * tC \ h u is 
 v „ ' rouers seeing this ships, espied this 
 
 7 7* ? yong youth, f aire, pretie infant; 
 
 aypovs ircpcep- seem iy j and when gazing on 
 
 yaadfxevoL, Karrj- strong, and think- his face, ... his 
 
 yovairov. ing him of better thought never 
 
 regard than any thirsted so much 
 
 part else of their after any pray, 
 
 prize, they made as this pretie 
 
 no further pur- Pleusidippus pos- 
 
 sute after his session." 
 
 goates . . ." 
 
 As this is the last of the numerous borrowings 
 from Greek Romance that enter into the com- 
 position of "Menaphon," it is now possible to 
 assign to each of these borrowings its place in the 
 whole, as well as to estimate the relative im- 
 
44° THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 portance of the Greek Romances, of Sidney's 
 "Arcadia," and of Warner's story of Argentile 
 and Curan, as sources of Greene's romance. 
 The detailed discussion thus required will be ren- 
 dered more intelligible by a brief summary of 
 " Menaphon " : 
 
 A plague having visited Arcadia, King Democles 
 receives from "Delphos" a riddling oracle, which 
 bids the Arcadians look for a happy time when 
 certain apparently impossible conditions shall have 
 been fulfilled. Later — (how much later does not 
 appear) — the King causes his daughter Sephestia, 
 her husband Maximius, her infant son Pleusidippus, 
 and her uncle Lamedon to be set adrift in a boat 
 without mariner, oar or sail. (The reason for this 
 inhumanity does not appear.) The Queen, Sephestia's 
 mother, dies of grief. The castaways, except Maxi- 
 mius, whom Sephestia believes to be lost, are wrecked 
 upon the coast of Arcadia in sight of Menaphon, 
 the King's chief shepherd, who receives them into 
 his cottage and falls in love with Sephestia. She 
 tells him that her name is Samela, and that she 
 comes from Cyprus; and keeps him in play with 
 doubtful and dilatory answers to his suit. At a 
 gathering of the shepherds, Sephestia sees the sup- 
 posed shepherd Melicertus — really her husband Max- 
 imius disguised, who has reached the shore in 
 safety. He sees her too, and is struck with her 
 resemblance to his lost wife; she with his resem- 
 blance to her lost husband ! They fall in love afresh. 
 Stung by jealousy, Menaphon insults Sephestia, who 
 with her uncle and son leaves his house and sets up 
 a cottage of her own. Melicertus courts her and 
 gives her a "Description of his Mistres," as if he 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 44 1 
 
 has had another. She promises to be his wife when 
 the oracle is fulfilled! Pleusidippus, now a well- 
 grown boy, and a leader among his playfellows, is 
 seized by pirates on the shore and sent by them to 
 the King of Thrace as a gift. His beauty wins him 
 gentle treatment; he is knighted; and the King 
 means that his own daughter Olympia shall be 
 Pleusidippus's wife. The young people are willing, 
 but there has reached Thrace the report of the 
 beauty of Samela, the Arcadian shepherdess, and 
 Pleusidippus cannot rest till he has beheld her. He 
 goes to Arcadia and falls in love with her ! Demo- 
 cles too has heard of her, and is now in disguise 
 among the shepherds in order to woo her. She 
 repulses both her father and her son, recognizing 
 the former but saying nothing ! Democles persuades 
 Pleusidippus to carry her off to a castle of the 
 King's near by, and there tries by threats to compel 
 her to yield. A party of shepherds led by Meli- 
 certus comes to her rescue; and Melicertus and 
 Pleusidippus are about to engage in single combat, 
 when Democles, who sees that, whoever wins, he 
 must lose, induces them to postpone their fight three 
 days. In the interval he sends for troops, whom he 
 places in ambush near the lists. Melicertus and 
 Pleusidippus having fought awhile are both taken 
 prisoners by these troops, who overawe the shep- 
 herds. Pleusidippus, as a favorite of the powerful 
 King of Thrace, is soon released, but Melicertus 
 and Samela are imprisoned together, for Democles 
 has resolved to put them both to death. They are 
 led forth to execution; but just before the fatal 
 stroke "there stept out on olde woman attired like 
 a Prophetesse, who cryed out Villaine holde thy 
 hand," told who Melicertus, Pleusidippus, and Sa- 
 mela really were, and declared that the oracle was 
 fulfilled. "At this, the people gaue a great shout, 
 
44 2 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 and the olde woman vanisht." The King of Thrace 
 is sent for, with his daughter, whom Pleusidippus 
 marries. Menaphon, unable to get Samela, marries 
 his old love Pesana; and the comic pastoral lovers, 
 Doron and Carmela, are married too. 
 
 It has been thought 68 that " Menaphon " is de- 
 rived from William Warner's tale of Argentile 
 and Curan, in "Albions England" (1586), Bk. 
 IV, ch. 20. The extent of the indebtedness will 
 be clear from the following summary: 
 
 Argentile, daughter of King Adelbright, is left 
 by his death to the guardianship of his brother, 
 King Edel, who has shared with him the Kingdom 
 of Diria. False to his trust, and wishing to usurp 
 Argentile's share, Edel will not give her in mar- 
 riage to any man of her own rank. But Curan, 
 " sonne unto a prince in Danske," has fallen in love 
 with her, and, in order to gain access to her, be- 
 comes a kitchen drudge in Edel's court. He reveals 
 to her his love and his parentage, but she rejects 
 him. Edel favors this supposedly base match, and 
 Argentile, in order to escape* it, flees from court. 
 Curan becomes a shepherd. After two years he falls 
 in love with a neighboring neatherd's maid, and in 
 telling her his love, confesses that he formerly loved 
 another, whom he describes. The neatherd's maid 
 is Argentile, who now returns Curan's love. They 
 are married; and Curan reconquers her kingdom. 
 
 w Joseph Quincy Adams, " Greene's ' Menaphon ' and 
 'The Thracian Wonder,'" in Modern Philology, III. 317- 
 18; cited with approval by J. W. H. Atkins, in "The Cam- 
 bridge History of English Literature," III. ch. xvi, p. 406. 
 (Mr. Adams's "Thomas Forde's 'Love's Labyrinth'" de- 
 rives " Argentile and Curan " from " Havelok the Dane.") 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
 443 
 
 Common to Warner's story and to Greene's are 
 the meeting of royal persons in the country as 
 shepherd and shepherdess, their failure to recog- 
 nize one another, their falling in love, the lover's 
 acknowledgment that he has had another mis- 
 tress, his giving his new mistress a description of 
 her, and the actual identity of the new mistress 
 with the old. 
 
 More numerous and rather more important are 
 Greene's imitations of Sidney : 
 
 "Arcadia." 
 
 " Menaphon." 
 
 (Name) Pyrocles. 
 
 (Name) Democles. 
 
 (Name) Pamela, a princess in 
 
 (Name) Samela, a princess in 
 
 rustic retirement. 
 
 rustic retirement. 
 
 (Name) Dorus, a prince dis- 
 
 ( Name ) Doron, a shepherd. 
 
 guised as a shepherd. 
 
 
 Setting : Arcadia 
 
 Setting : Arcadia. 
 
 Paradoxical Oracle to King of 
 
 Paradoxical Oracle to King of 
 
 Arcadia. 
 
 Arcadia. 
 
 (Also in "yEthiopica"). 
 
 A prince of Thessaly. 
 Wife of King of Arcadia was 
 born in Cyprus. 
 
 Hero is cast ashore in sight of 
 shepherds, who rescue him. 
 
 Zelmane, betrothed to Phil- 
 oclea, is wooed by both Ba- 
 silius and Gynecia, his be- 
 trothed' s father and mother, 
 respectively. 
 
 Pamela, a prisoner in the castle 
 of her suitor, is threatened if 
 she will not yield. 
 
 A King of Thessaly. 
 
 Daughter of King of Arcadia 
 feigns that she was born in 
 Cyprus. 
 
 Heroine is cast ashore in sight 
 of shepherd, who rescues 
 her. 
 
 Sephestia, betrothed to Maxi- 
 mius, is wooed by both 
 Democles and Pleusidippus, 
 her own father and son, re- 
 spectively. 
 
 Samela, a prisoner in the castle 
 of her suitor, is threatened if 
 she will not yield. 
 
 And the artless disclosure of the oracle at the 
 very beginning of " Menaphon," together with 
 
444 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the movement of the story chronologically from 
 that point on, are probably due to Greene's in- 
 ability to master the complicated technique of 
 the " New Arcadia." He contents himself here 
 with imitating the " Old Arcadia," which quotes 
 the oracle at the beginning, and moves thence for- 
 ward in order of time. 
 
 Most numerous, and most important because 
 most structural, are the elements taken over into 
 " Menaphon " from Greek Romance. These will 
 now be gathered together in brief summary, each 
 with a reference to its separate and more detailed 
 discussion in the foregoing pages : 
 
 Paradoxical oracle. Ante, p. 422 (cf. 
 "^Ethiopica"). 
 
 Exposure of King's daughter. Ante, p. 425 
 (cf. "JEthiopica"). 
 
 Shipwreck of King's daughter and her hus- 
 band results in their restoration. Ante, p. 410 
 (cf. "^thiopica"). 
 
 Heroine quick at making up a false story of 
 her birth, parentage and country. Ante, p. 412, 
 n. 43. (cf. "^Ethiopica"). 
 
 Menaphon, before he has seen Samela, dis- 
 dains love. Ante, p. 413-414 (cf. " iEthiopica " 
 and " Clitophon and Leucippe"). 
 
 Close association of Love and Fortune in a 
 pastoral. Ante, pp. 435-436 (cf. "Daphnis and 
 Chloe"). 
 
 King's daughter finds her native land more 
 dangerous than foreign lands: antithesis dwelt 
 upon; verbal parallel. Ante, p. 415 (cf. 
 'VEthiopica"). 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 445 
 
 Gentle ridicule of rustic manners and dress. 
 Ante, pp. 433-4 (cf. " Daphnis and Chloe"). 
 
 " Pathetic optics " of Melicertus and Samela's 
 meeting, Ante, p. 419, n. 50 (cf. "iEthiopica"). 
 
 Boy carried off by pirates: detail. Ante, p. 
 439 (cf. "Daphnis and Chloe"). 
 
 Heroine betrothes herself with understanding 
 that marriage not to be consummated till ful- 
 filment of oracle. Ante, p. 424 (cf. "yEthio- 
 pica' , ). 
 
 Heroine and her lover-husband imprisoned 
 together. Ante, pp. 4 2 5~6 (cf. "vEthiopica"). 
 
 " Moment of last suspense " ; silence as to 
 identity; hieratic agent of catastrophe; recogni- 
 tion; fulfilment of oracle; etc., in detail, with 
 verbal parallel. Ante, pp. 426-8 (cf. "JEthio- 
 
 pica"). 
 
 Thus in compounding " Menaphon " Greene 
 took something from Warner; more from Sid- 
 ney, and, through him, from Greek Romance; 
 and most from Greek Romance direct. 
 
 Other than " Menaphon," " Pandosto " is the 
 only one of Greene's romances to use material 
 from "Daphnis and Chloe." And as the bor- 
 rowings of " Pandosto " from Heliodorus and 
 Achilles Tatius have already been discussed in 
 detail, the borrowings from Longus will now be 
 set forth in their place as parts of the whole, 
 in the course of a general summary similar to 
 that just given (ante, p. 444) in the case of 
 "Menaphon." The plot of "Pandosto," how- 
 ever, need not be analyzed here ; in its large out- 
 line the same as that of "The Winter's Tale," 
 
446 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 which is based upon it, it may be assumed to be 
 well known. 
 
 As soon as Greene has finished with the im- 
 mediate consequences of his opening situation — 
 the jealousy of King Pandosto and the imprison- 
 ment of his Queen, Bellaria — the earmarks of 
 Greek Romance begin to appear. Heliodorus's 
 turn comes first. Pandosto's infant daughter — 
 later called Fawnia — is exposed for reasons and 
 under circumstances the same as those in the 
 case of Chariclea (ante, p. 424) : father's jealous 
 suspicion; commitment of child to Fortune; ad- 
 dition of tokens for identification; mother's 
 lament. Deeper, though less specific, is the im- 
 press of the "^Ethiopica" upon the trial-scene, 
 with its attempt to borrow, not motif and inci- 
 dent only, but the Heliodorean method: transi- 
 tional ensemble scene; trial and vindication of 
 chastity ; oracle vindicating chastity and promot- 
 ing restoration of exposed child; suspense; 
 pathos; sudden turn; theatrical activity of For- 
 tune (ante, pp. 420-421). 
 
 Upon Bellaria's death, the interest shifts to the 
 fortunes of Fawnia among the shepherds. For 
 these, constituting the second part of his romance, 
 Greene may have taken a hint from the fortunes 
 of Chariclea, who was likewise reared by shep- 
 herds ("JEth.," IV. viii). But it could have 
 been only a hint. Heliodorus does not enlarge 
 upon the pastoral bringing up of his heroine ; and 
 clearly enough the obvious source for pastoral 
 detail would be "Daphnis and Chloe." In fact, 
 with the death of the King's son and heir Garin- 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 447 
 
 ter (ante, p. 421), Longus enters Greene's story, 
 not to leave it till the pastoral portion of it is 
 done. Greene borrows from Longus this Motif 
 of the death of the elder after the exposure of 
 the younger child, and numerous details and inci- 
 dents of the rinding of Fawnia, of her rural life, 
 and of her foster-father's discovery of her to her 
 real father. These he obtains, mostly, by com- 
 pounding particulars regarding Daphnis with cor- 
 responding particulars regarding Chloe, and using 
 the composite for Fawnia. The Table on pp. 
 448-450 shows Greene's borrowings, and shows, 
 too, (see *) that Greene used Day's version, 
 taking from it several details that are not in the 
 Greek or in Amyot. 
 
443 
 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 
 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 45 1 
 
 Between the shepherd's resolve and his dis- 
 closure (see last two entries in the Table), 
 Dorastus and Fawnia elope on shipboard, and 
 are at first favored by Fortune with fair winds, 
 but are soon overtaken by a storm and driven to 
 Bohemia, a country at that time hostile to them 
 (302). The shipwreck of eloping lovers upon 
 a hostile shore is of course an inevitable incident 
 of Greek Romance, and occurs both to Clitophon 
 and Leucippe (III. i-iv) and to Theagenes and 
 Chariclea (V. xxvii-xxviii). Next, before 
 Fawnia is identified by means of the shepherd's 
 disclosure of the circumstances under which he 
 found her, Pandosto, not knowing who she is, 
 woos her brutally, with threats and insults like 
 those of Thersander to Leucippe (A. T., VI. xx). 
 And now appears a motif from Heliodorus 
 again : King Pandosto not knowing his daughter 
 Fawnia, who after her exposure has been re- 
 stored to him, orders her to be put to death (314- 
 315). The incident comes from the "iEthio- 
 pica " : King Hydaspes, not knowing his daughter 
 Chariclea, who after her exposure has been re- 
 stored to him, orders her to be put to death 
 (X. vii ff.). In each story this incident occupies 
 the same position and performs the same struc- 
 tural function: it gives a "moment of last sus- 
 pense" before the final disclosure, recognition, 
 and happy ending (ante, pp. 426 fT). 
 
 Much of the foregoing material, taken by 
 Greene from the Greek Romances, and embodied 
 in "Pandosto," Shakespeare in turn takes over 
 into "The Winter's Tale." He discards the 
 
452 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 borrowings from Achilles Tatius — the brutal 
 wooing — for he is not going to let Leontes woo 
 Perdita. But he utilizes some of Greene's bor- 
 rowings from Heliodorus and most of those from 
 Longus. The exposure with tokens, the express 
 commitment to Fortune, ("W. T.," II. iii, 
 179 if), and the trial scene, with its oracle and 
 peripeteia, are in Shakespeare as in Greene. 
 How largely the pastoral details borrowed by 
 "Pandosto" from " Daphnis and Chloe " figure 
 again in " The Winter's Tale " appears from the 
 Table already referred to. 
 
 Shakespeare may, indeed, have taken most of 
 these details directly from " Daphnis and Chloe " 
 quite as well as from " Pandosto." The Table 
 shows that all but two ( e ) are in Day as well 
 as in Greene. Moreover, there is in "The 
 Winter's Tale " one detail hitherto unmentioned, 
 which Shakespeare might have found in Day, but 
 could not have found in Greene at all. These 
 facts point to the probability that Day's " Daphnis 
 and Chloe " is not only a secondary but a primary 
 source of " The Winter's Tale." 
 
 The detail just mentioned is that of the hunt 
 (W. T., III. iii) ; and it is important because it is 
 more than an ornament, like Chloe's and Fawnia's 
 garland, and Perdita's flowers ; it is structural to 
 the play — an essential of its dramatic economy. 
 If one may be permitted to reason such a matter 
 out a priori, the hunt appears to be necessitated 
 in some such way as this: Shakespeare seems to 
 have desired to employ, in " The Winter's Tale," 
 normal causation and human motive wherever 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 453 
 
 possible, instead of chance. This desire would 
 render him dissatisfied with Greene's easy fashion 
 of letting mere Fortune cast the child on the 
 coast of the very country where reigns the un- 
 justly suspected friend of her father,— the 
 country where that friend's son will afterward 
 fall in love with this very child grown to girlhood. 
 Shakespeare perhaps realized that while a ro- 
 mancer might properly ask such a favor of For- 
 tune—notoriously the guide and mistress of Ro- 
 mance, yet a dramatist was bound more closely 
 to probability. For the purpose, then, of getting 
 the child exposed in Bohemia and nowhere else, 
 he invented Antigonus. Leontes commissions 
 Antigonus to expose it somewhere, and Anti- 
 gonus's own belief in Hermione's guilt— together 
 with the request of Hermione's phantom in a 
 dream supposed to be sent by Apollo— leads him 
 to expose it in Bohemia, the country of the child's 
 supposed father: 
 
 A**- "I do believe 
 
 Hermione hath suffered death, and that 
 Apollo would, this being indeed the issue 
 Of King Polixenes, it should here be laid, 
 Either for life or death, upon the earth 
 Of its right father." 
 
 (W. T., III. iii, 41 ff.) 
 
 Once invented, however, Antigonus must be 
 killed as soon as he has performed his task of 
 exposing Perdita ; and this both for the sake of 
 poetic justice, because he is willing to carry out 
 his King's cruel behest, and for the sake of put- 
 
454 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ting him completely out of the way, that Leontes 
 may not learn from him of Perdita's fate. 
 Something is needed to kill Antigonus. 
 
 Together with this need arises the need for 
 some plausible means of inducing a shepherd, 
 who would not ordinarily walk along the beach, 
 to go thither and find the exposed child. In 
 "Daphnis and Chloe" the children are found 
 inland, in a thicket and a cave respectively ; there 
 is no question of the seaside or of any reason 
 why the herdsman should walk there; and, 
 furthermore, the straying of the she-goat and the 
 ewe, which leads the herdsman to the child, is 
 motived by the desire to give it suck. Greene 
 had eliminated this motive, but at the same time 
 had given himself a new problem in having the 
 child cast ashore, and thus requiring that the 
 shepherd be led thither. This problem he slurred 
 over, simply letting the sheep stray for no par- 
 ticular reason and letting the shepherd hear the 
 child cry. With such careless motivation and de- 
 pendence upon chance Shakespeare was appar- 
 ently as dissatisfied as he was with the fortuitous 
 casting of the child upon just the shore where it 
 would later be required. 
 
 Both problems he finds solved at once in an- 
 other passage of "Daphnis and Chloe," — a 
 passage which gives him both the means to punish 
 Antigonus and the means to drive the sheep to 
 the seaside. This is the incident (" D. and C," 
 II. xiii) of the young Methymnaeans' hunting, 
 the noise of which frightens the sheep and goats 
 from their upland pastures down to the shore. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 455 
 
 What more consonant with dramatic economy 
 than that Shakespeare should have borrowed this 
 hunt, and have used it both to send the bear that 
 devours Antigonus, and at the same time to 
 frighten the sheep away from the hills so that the 
 shepherd must seek them along the shore and 
 there find the child ? This, at any rate, is the use 
 Shakespeare has made of the hunt. 
 
 Now, the motif of the hunt is not in Greene. 
 There is no reason to suppose that Shakespeare 
 invented it, when it lay ready to his hand in Day's 
 version of " Daphnis and Chloe " (64-65). 
 
 Shakespeare has thus substituted natural causa- 
 tion and human agency in the place of Fortune, 
 to bring about first Perdita's exposure in Bo- 
 hemia, and next the finding of her by the shep- 
 herd. In the same way he rejects the storm, 
 which, in " Pandosto " (302), by chance again, 
 sent Dorastus and Fawnia to the land of her 
 hostile father; and substitutes for it Camillo's 
 deliberate advice and Florizel's avowed decision 
 to visit Leontes in Sicillia ("W. T.," IV. iv, 
 546 ft*). At no less than three points, then, all 
 of them structural, the tvxv of Heliodorus and 
 Achilles Tatius, the overworked Fortune of 
 Greene, gives place, in Shakespeare, to motive 
 and probable cause. The familiar material of 
 Greek Romance, selected haphazard by the writer 
 of English fiction, has undergone at the hands of 
 the dramatist a second process of sifting, — this 
 time with full artistic intent. 
 
 Considered at large, the influence of the Greek 
 Romances upon Greene exhibits a definite chron- 
 
456 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ological movement. It begins with mere tran- 
 scripts from Achilles Tatius in "Arbasto" 
 (1584), "Morando" (1587; ? 1584) and " Carde 
 of Fancie" (1587; ? 1584) — a stage of imma- 
 turity and superficiality, which, in the main, bor- 
 rows non-structural ornament. " Philomela/' 
 which seems to fall in immediately after this 
 group, shows Greene taking less from Achilles 
 Tatius (only the trial at the end), and more 
 from Heliodorus, chiefly by way of incident, — 
 not yet by way of structure. The influence of 
 the Greek Romances reaches its height in " Pan- 
 dosto" (1588), which takes a little from Achilles 
 Tatius, but now gets structure as well as matter 
 from the solid Heliodorus, together with incident 
 and ornament from the decorative Longus. The 
 influence degenerates at once in " Menaphon " 
 (1589), which, though structurally based upon 
 Heliodorus, is a tissue of absurdities — apparently 
 one of those pamphlets that Greene " yarkt up in 
 a night and a day"; a "pot-boiler" in imitation 
 of the "Arcadia" and of his own successful 
 " Pandosto," many of whose motifs it repeats in 
 thin disguise. Almost ceasing in the realistic 
 pamphlets of Greene's last years, the influence of 
 Greek Romance flickers up for a moment in 
 his half-realistic, half -autobiographical " Groats- 
 worth" (1592) — appropriately enough in the 
 form of a suggestion from Achilles Tatius (ante, 
 p. 406), who is thus, as has been said, Greene's 
 first and latest love among the Greek Romancers. 
 If it be asked what was the effect of the Greek 
 Romances upon Greene as a literary artist, the 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 457 
 
 answer must in general be negative. Despite his 
 appropriation, for the nonce, of their material 
 and their structure, Greene never assimilated 
 these, as he assimilated Euphuism and as he 
 assimilated the Italian novella, so as to be able to 
 originate them. Unlike Sidney, he never learned 
 to invent Romances of his own, as he did learn to 
 invent novelle of his own. The nearest he can 
 come to Greek Romance is in some of its faults 
 — its tychomania, its general dearth of character, 
 its distorted " psychology," its labored antitheses. 
 When he attempts the sustained elaborate oracle- 
 guided plot of Heliodorus, he fails even with the 
 "Arcadia" before him as model. When he at- 
 tempts the Heliodorean setting, he fails again. 
 The best he can do with Longus is to take over 
 his motifs directly; the best he can do with 
 Achilles Tatius is to transcribe almost verbatim 
 his adventitious ornament. 
 
 To the English novel, therefore, the Greek 
 Romances make only an inconsiderable contribu- 
 tion through Greene. It would be interesting, 
 though idle, to speculate what might have been 
 the result had Greene been ready to learn from 
 Greek Romance what Lyly learned at second or 
 third hand, the lesson of articulation of material, 
 — a lesson spread upon every page of Boccaccio ; 
 or had he, like Sidney, been capable of acquiring 
 at first hand the full practice of Heliodorus's 
 technique. One might as well wonder what 
 would have been the result had Greene possessed 
 a strong sense of causal nexus, of motive, of 
 character, and of setting. In the first case, he 
 
45$ THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 would have produced, like Sidney, Greek Ro- 
 mance in English; in the second he would have 
 produced an English novel. Needless to say, he 
 did neither. The best of Greene, and the best of 
 what Greene found in Greek Romance, is in 
 "The Winter's Tale." 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 Thomas Nash and Thomas Lodge 
 
 Nash makes no use whatever of the Greek 
 Romances. 
 
 Lodge alludes twice to the "JEthiopica." At 
 the beginning of " Forbonius and Prisceria ,, 
 (published with "An Alarum against Usurers," 
 1584) he places the scene "In Memphis (the 
 chiefest citie of Aegypt) ... at such time as 
 Sisimithres was head Priest of the same, & 
 Hidaspes gouernour of the Prouince " ; and he 
 makes his heroine the daughter of " Valduuia, 
 daughter and heire of Theagines of Greece, the 
 copartener of sorrowe with Caricleala, the 
 straunge borne childe of the Aegyptian King" 
 (Hunterian Club ed., I, 53, 54~ modern paging). 
 So that Prisceria is a granddaughter of Heho- 
 dorus's hero and heroine. Her pedigree argues 
 the popularity of the "JEthiopica "; Lodge would 
 have no motive for professing to continue a story 
 that was not widely and favorably known. 
 Lodge's own story, however, shows no other trace 
 of Heliodorus. 
 
 In the "History of Robert, Second Duke of 
 Normandy" 1591 (Hunterian Club ed., II, 52), 
 the Soldan of Babylon, in love with Emine, 
 daughter of the Emperor of Rome, asks his peers 
 not to disapprove the match: 
 
 "Princes woonder not, Theagines a Greeke, 
 459 
 
460 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 loued Cariclia a Moore, & your Souldan a Ma- 
 hometist, his Emine a Christian." 
 
 The remainder of this tale, like " Forbonius 
 and Prisceria," shows not the slightest indebted- 
 ness to Heliodorus. 
 
 Nor does Lodge in general exhibit the influ- 
 ence of Greek Romance. An incident or two, an 
 antithesis, a habit of using the pastoral to bring 
 about the happy ending of an urban story, — 
 these, which might be attributable to the "iEt'hio- 
 pica" or to "Daphnis and Chloe" if their evi- 
 dence were corroborated, fall short of probative 
 force, and are not worth citation. Lodge's prose 
 fiction on the whole is mediaeval, Euphuistic, and 
 Italianate rather than Hellenistic. 
 
CONCLUSION 
 
 The influence of Greek Romance is variously 
 felt by the chief writers of Elizabethan prose 
 fiction. Lyly feels it as a tradition of certain 
 conventions of form adapted to the treatment of 
 the theme of Two Friends; and it thus econo- 
 mizes his effort in developing and articulating 
 the plot of " Euphues." Lodge scarcely feels it ; 
 Nash feels it not at all. Greene gets from it a 
 quantity of ornament and tinsel, and an abortive 
 impulse towards structure. Only in Sidney does 
 Greek Romance find a talent both receptive and 
 constructive. Sidney alone moves freely among 
 the materials and the structures offered him by 
 Heliodorus and Achilles Tatius, — selecting, com- 
 bining, separating, adding matter of his own or 
 from other sources; working, when he will, in 
 the spirit of his original, without borrowing a 
 specific thing; working, when he will, in a spirit 
 of his own that transforms even specific borrow- 
 ings. He alone exhibits the untrammelled stride 
 of the literary artist who, having closed the books 
 that constitute his " sources," has their contents 
 in his mind, remembered abundantly, but not re- 
 membered so exactly as to be inflexible. Above 
 all, he alone among the Elizabethans has devel- 
 oped further on his own account, and has actually 
 brought nearer perfection, the complex architec- 
 tonics of Greek Romance. 
 461 
 
462 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 And it was in this direction that English fiction 
 was tending. The novella had had a magnificent, 
 a double " fortune " in England. It had inspired 
 similar English novelle, so easily turned, for ex- 
 ample, by Greene; and then it had found upon 
 the Elizabethan stage the form most completely 
 expressive of that single dramatic situation 
 wherein the essence of the novella consists. But 
 now, in the Seventeenth Century, its vogue was 
 passing away. The drama was declining; and 
 fiction was turning to the more elaborate, expan- 
 sive, and structural form of the romance, from 
 which it was acquiring the longue haleine that is 
 the condition precedent to the novel. As Rohde 
 has suggested, the relation of the novella to the 
 romance of the Seventeenth Century — and, we 
 may add, to the modern novel — is much the same 
 as the relation of the Milesian Tales to the 
 "yEthiopica." In neither case does the greater 
 form build itself up out of the lesser: the differ- 
 ence is a difference in kind. 
 
 It is probable that during the Seventeenth Cen- 
 tury the chief influence of Greek Romance form 
 upon English fiction came rather through the 
 French romances than through any Elizabethan 
 work. Yet to assert that, as far as later English 
 fiction is concerned, Elizabethan fiction is a closed 
 system, with its only issue opening into the drama, 
 would be a hard saying indeed. Sidney's "Ar- 
 cadia," long surviving the vogue of " Euphues " 
 and of Greene's tales, remained popular through- 
 out the Seventeenth Century, and alive well into 
 the Eighteenth. Categorically to deny to it a 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 463 
 
 share in building up the novel that was to come 
 would be extremely rash. It seems safer to say 
 that when at length character and personality 
 entered English fiction, the frame had been pre- 
 pared for them, at least in part, by the labors of 
 Sidney. Certain it is that Richardson, 1 certain it 
 is that Scott, 2 knew the "Arcadia," and used it; 
 more, that they used somewhat in the " Arcadia " 
 which the "Arcadia" got from Greek Romance. 
 In general, then, it appears not only that the 
 Greek Romances contributed variously to Eliza- 
 bethan fiction itself, but also that, mediately, by 
 way of Elizabethan fiction, they made two dis- 
 tinct further contributions to English literature. 
 The one contribution, which is quite beyond 
 doubt, is a contribution to the drama: it can be 
 definitely identified at its highest in " King Lear " 
 and in " The Winter's Tale." The other contri- 
 bution — the contribution to the development of 
 the novel — will remain somewhat problematic 
 
 1 Richardson's indebtedness to Sidney does not seem to 
 have been thoroughly investigated. All that has been 
 noticed is, I believe, the borrowed name " Pamela " 
 (Gassmeyer, p. 11 ; Poetzsche, p. 41). A quite desultory 
 examination turns up two interesting parallels, of which 
 the second is very significant. (1) Clarissa's threat of 
 suicide to save her honor (" Clarissa," IV, p. 160) may be 
 an imitation of Philoclea's similar threat in a similar situa- 
 tion — viz. captivity in the house of a lover (" Arcadia," 
 III. xxiv). (2) Miss Byron's abduction by Sir Hargrave 
 Pollexfen ("Grandison," v. I, Letter xxiiff.), another ab- 
 duction meant to force a lady to yield to a lover, is 
 apparently a reminiscence of the similar abduction of the 
 Arcadian princesses ("Arcadia," III); it takes place at a 
 masquerade, to which Miss Byron goes as " an Arcadian 
 princess." 
 
 1 Wolff, " Scott's Ivanhoe and Sidney's Arcadia." Kerlin, 
 " Scott's Ivanhoe and Sidney's Arcadia," 
 
464 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 until the exact nature of the influence of Eliza- 
 bethan fiction upon the Eighteenth Century is 
 cleared up. Meanwhile it seems not too much to 
 suggest, tentatively, as a proposition not yet fully 
 established but not lightly to be denied, that the 
 Greek Romances, partly through French Ro- 
 mance of the Seventeenth Century, partly through 
 a single Elizabethan Romance — the "Arcadia," 
 helped to give to the English novel that gift 
 which Greek literature has so often conferred, — 
 the gift of sustained and complex form. Just as 
 the "Arcadia," the only work of Elizabethan 
 fiction possessing such form, was also the only 
 work of Elizabethan fiction to exert a lasting 
 influence, so whatever of the Greek Romances 
 may survive in the modern novel is not their illu- 
 sion, but that architectonic power in them which 
 despite themselves makes against illusion and 
 toward law. 
 
APPENDIX A 
 
 Textual Notes on the relation between 
 
 Day's and Amyot's versions of 
 
 "Daphnis and Chloe" 
 
 (Arabic numbers at left refer to pages in Da.) 
 
 Prooemium 
 Da omits the Prooemium. 
 
 Book I 
 
 13. Inserts stanza of prayer to the winged god. 
 
 19-25. Inserts in the hiatus (not filled authen- 
 tically until 1809 by P. L. Courier) an inter- 
 polation apparently his own. It begins p. 19: 
 " The louely shepehard thus raized up from so 
 depe a dongeon," and ends, p. 25, "... hee 
 brake into these farther complaints." In- 
 formation given by the preserved text after the 
 lacuna enabled Day to supply several points in 
 the lacuna itself, — viz. that Dorco was the name 
 of the cowherd who had helped to rescue Daphnis 
 from the pit ; that Dorco was in love with Chloe ; 
 that Dorco had given Daphnis 1 a calf ; that love 
 
 1 The authentic passage found by Courier makes the calf 
 a gift to Chloe (" D. & C," I. xv, D 136, line 21 sqq.). 
 Daphnis's soliloquy, without the light shed on it by the 
 fragment, leaves the recipient unindicated (" D. & C," I. 
 xviii, D 137, line 25-6). Amyot, in doubt, made Daphnis 
 the recipient : " J'ay souvent baise . . . le petit veau que 
 Dorcon w'a donne " (A 23). Day followed him: "Often 
 have I kissed . . . that fine speckled calf that Dorcon did 
 give me" (Da 25); and accordingly made his reconstruc- 
 
 31 465 
 
466 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 had arisen between Daphnis and Chloe ; and that 
 Chloe had given Daphnis a kiss. But the re- 
 mainder Day must have cut out of the whole 
 cloth: — the sentiments of Daphnis; the gifts, 
 other than the calf, brought by Dorco to Daphnis 
 and Chloe ; 2 and Dorco's efforts to make himself 
 agreeable by becoming neater in person and at- 
 tire. For this last a hint may have come to Day 
 from Amyot's version of the end of Daphnis's 
 soliloquy: "Dorcon a la fin deviendra plus beau 
 que moy" (23). 
 
 33-34. Expands the account of D. and C.'s 
 emotions upon their meeting after the night of 
 sleep induced by fatigue; and adds much of his 
 own thereto. (I. xxii-xxiii ; A 28 ; B 278.) 
 
 35-6. Expands comparison of Chloe to a nymph. 
 (I. xxiv; A 29; B 279.) Omits D. & C.'s sport- 
 ive pelting of each other with apples. (I. xxiv; 
 A 30; B 279.) 
 
 36-7, 37-8. Inserts two songs sung by Daphnis. 
 Omits Daphnis's kissing the stops of the flute 
 touched by Chloe's lips. (I. xxiv; A 301; B 
 279.) 
 
 47. Inserts at the end of his First Book, a 
 prose paragraph beginning " And thus continuing 
 in these variable fits liued pore Daphnis"; and 
 an amoeboeic duo in verse between D. and C. 
 
 Book II 
 
 49-52. Expands the vintage-scene, — especially 
 the women's commendation of Daphnis's beauty, 
 
 tion of the missing portion consistent: "To Daphnis be- 
 sides gave hee (sc. Dorcon) a yoong fatte caife from the 
 damme " (Da 23). 
 'By a happy chance, he hit upon cheeses and flowers. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 467 
 
 and the incident of the kiss bestowed on him 
 by one of them. (II. i-ii; A 41-3; B 285.) 
 
 61-62. Greatly abridges the musings of D. & 
 C. upon the remedies for love as suggested by 
 Philetas, their dreams thereon, and their attempts 
 to find these remedies. (II. viii-xi, incl. ; A 49- 
 53 ; B 290-1 ; — from the end of Philetas's speech 
 to the beginning of the episode of the Methym- 
 naeans.) Omits the accident that somewhat for- 
 wards these attempts. (II. x-xi; A 52-3; B 
 291.) 
 
 62. Inserts a set of verses — a love-plaint to be 
 carved by Daphnis upon the bark of trees. 
 
 66. Abridges the pleas of the Methymaeans and 
 of Daphnis. (II. xv-xvi; A 57-8; B 293-4.) 
 
 69-70. Inserts set of verses — the complaint of 
 Daphnis to the Nymphs. 
 
 y2. Expands and pads out the speech of the 
 nymph in Daphnis's vision. (II. xxiii; A 65 ; B 
 297.) Omits the nymph's attribution of the care 
 of D. & C. to Love; and inserts statements at- 
 tributing it to the Nymphs. 
 
 82. Inserts a " rufull complaint" in verse, 
 " chaunted forth by Daphnis." 
 
 Book III 
 
 98-100. Omits Daphnis's drinking from the 
 same cup as Chloe. (Ill, viii; A 89; B 310.) 
 Shortens Daphnis's winter visit by omitting all 
 account of the second day thereof. (Ill, x-xi; 
 A 90-91 ; B 311.) (This second day he makes 
 the shepherds' holiday.) 
 
 100-123. Omits from his Third Book every- 
 
468 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 thing in A from the end of Daphnis's winter visit 
 to the end of the Book (onward from III. xii; 
 D 158; A 91 ; B 310) — nearly three quarters of 
 the original Book. The omitted portion includes 
 (a) the coming of spring; (b) the lesson in love; 
 (c) the sailors' song; (d) the myth of Echo; 
 (e) Daphnis's dream of the treasure, his finding 
 of it, and his suit for Chloe with it; (/) the 
 idyl of the apple. Inserts in place of these " The 
 Shepherds' Holiday " — a barren and frigid inven- 
 tion of his own in praise of Queen Elizabeth ; and 
 so fills out and concludes his Third Book. 
 
 Book IV 
 
 124-135. Transposes to the opening of his 
 Fourth Book most of the matter omitted from 
 his Third-viz. (a), (c), (rf), (*),(/). 
 
 124-5. Abridges (a). (III. xii-xiv; A 91- 
 95; B 311-313.) Omits (b). (III. xv-xx; 
 xxiv; A 95-ioo; 103-4; B 313-16; 318.) 
 
 125. Abridges (c). (III. xxi; A 100-102; B 
 
 316-17.) 
 
 125-7. Gives (d) in full. (III. xxii, xxiii; A 
 102-3; B 317-18.) 
 
 130-133. Slightly abridges (<?), omitting the 
 dolphin. (III. xxv-xxxii; A 104-114; B 319- 
 
 23-) 
 
 134-5. Slightly abridges (/), omitting the odor 
 of the fruit. (III. xxxiii, xxxiv; A 11 5-1 17; 
 
 B 324-5.) 
 
 136. Greatly abridges the description of La- 
 mon's garden, omitting the view to be had from 
 it; and the paintings in the temple of Bacchus. 
 (IV. ii-iii; A 1 19-21; B 326.) 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 469 
 
 142-3. Abridges and greatly weakens the de- 
 scription of Daphnis as he first appeared to 
 Dionysophanes and Clearista. (IV. xiv; A 132, 
 
 B 133.) 
 
 143. Omits Daphnis's performance with the 
 musically trained goats. (IV. xv; A 133; B 
 
 333-) 
 
 143. Omits Gnatho's description of Daphnis. 
 (IV. xvii; A 135-6; B 335.) Omits Gnatho's 
 arguments, and slightly abridges the whole inci- 
 dent, but retains its essentials. (IV. xvii; A 
 
 135-6; B 335-6.) 
 
 148. Confuses Dionysophanes's account of the 
 exposure of Daphnis (IV. xxiv; A 142) and in- 
 troduces " Sophrosine his man " from IV. xxi ; 
 A 140; at the same time changing the sex of 
 this " nostre servante Sophrosyne." 
 
 149-50. Abridges Chloe's lament upon Daph- 
 nis's supposed desertion of her. (IV. xxvii; A 
 145 ; B 340.) Omits Daphnis's soliloquy upon 
 hearing that Lampis has carried off Chloe. (IV. 
 xxviii; A 146; B 341.) 
 
 Towards end of Fourth Book. Omits the 
 dream of Dionysophanes (IV. xxiv; A 152; B 
 344) and the dream of Megacles (IV. xxxv; A 
 154; B 345)- 
 
 At end of Fourth Book. Omits the account 
 of D. & C.'s children, and of D. & C.'s devotion 
 to Eros, Pan, and the Nymphs. (IV. xxxix; 
 A 156; B 346.) 
 
APPENDIX B 
 
 Notes and transcripts: "Clifford" MS. of 
 Sidney's "Arcadia" 
 
 Fol. 2 recto begins : " The first Booke or Acte 
 of the Countefs of Pembrookes Arcadia." 
 ("Arcadia" ends on fol. 216 recto.) 
 
 2 verso. Oracle to Basilius, Duke of Arcadia. 
 
 3-4. Philanax discusses it. 
 
 4v. Basilius's family and his disposition of its 
 members. Ibid. Account of Evarchus, the just 
 King of Macedon ; his war with Kings of Thrace, 
 Pannonia and Epyrus, who invade his kingdom. 
 
 5r. He sends " his youngest sonne Pyrocles 
 (at that tyme but six years olde) to his sister 
 the Dowager & Regent of Thessalia, there to be 
 brought vp wt her sonne Musidorus. . . . And 
 so grewe they vntill Pyrocles came to be xvij and 
 Musidorus xviij yeares of age: At whiche tyme 
 Evarchus," having conquered Thrace and taken 
 up his residence in " the principal city of Thrace 
 called at that tyme Bisantium . . . sent for hys 
 sonne and nevew to delyght his aged eyes in 
 them . . . But so pleased yt god, who reserved 
 them to greater traverses bothe of good and evill 
 fortune, that the sea . . . stirred to terrible 
 tempest, forced them to fall from theyre course, 
 vppon the coaste of Lydia. Where, what befell 
 vnto them, what valyant actes they did, passing, 
 in one yeares space, throughe the lesser Asia, 
 Syria and Egipt, how many Ladyes they de- 
 470 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 47 x 
 
 fended from wronges, and disinherited persons 
 restored to theyre righte, yt ys a worke for a 
 higher style then myne; This only shall suffyce, 
 that, theyre fame returned . . . fast before them 
 into Greece." Returning towards Macedon 5v. 
 "and so taking Arcadia in theyre way, for the 
 fame of the contry, they came thether newly after 
 that this straunge solitarynes had possessed Basi- 
 lius. . . . They lodged in the house of Kerpenus 
 (Karpenus? Kersenus?) a principall gentleman 
 in Mantinea ..." where "walking with his 
 hoste in a fay re gallery (Pyrocles) perceyved a 
 picture " of the Duke and Duchess, and Philoclea, 
 and fell in love at once. 
 
 6r.-8v. Pyrocles discusses love with Musido- 
 rus, whose opinion is harsh. 
 
 8v. Confesses to Musidorus his love for Philo- 
 clea, and his resolve "to take uppon mee the 
 estate of an Amazon Lady goyng aboute the 
 worlde, to practize feates of chivalry, and to 
 seeke my self a worthy husband." Pyrocles is 
 disguised. (13-13V.) His Amazon attire is de- 
 scribed. He becomes Cleophila. 
 
 14.V. Pyrocles meets Dametas. 
 
 17. Is taken to the Duke, who falls in love. 
 
 19V. Musidorus, already in love with Pamela, 
 and disguised as shepherd, sings a love-plaint. 
 
 20. Sidney (not Mus.) explains that Mus. has 
 fallen in love with Pamela. 
 
 23. The lion and the bear. 
 
 27. " Here endes the ffirste Book or Acte." 
 
 28. " Here begins The First Eglogues." 
 
 33. (Part of First Eclogues). The shepherd 
 
472 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Histor relates how he has heard the complaint 
 of " an Iberian nobleman called Plangus (vttered 
 to the wyse shepherde Boulon) " : Plangus had 
 lodged with Histor and had told his story. (The 
 story is that of Erona, daughter of a " Kinge of 
 Lidia," of her father, and of Antiphilus (33V.), 
 whom she would have married after her father's 
 death; of an attack made upon her by King 
 Otones, who wished her for himself ; of his sister 
 Artaxia, who accompanied his army and sought 
 to mollify him, but in vain; and of how he be- 
 sieged Erona. At that time there landed in Lidia 
 the two Princes Pyrocles and Musidorus (34), 
 who rescued her, killed Otones, and rescued 
 Antiphilus. 
 
 34V. Artaxia inconsolable for loss of her 
 brother. Antiphilus makes overtures to her, and 
 is taken in an ambush and killed. Erona is im- 
 prisoned; if not rescued within two years by 
 Pyrocles and Musidorus she is to be burned at 
 the stake. 
 
 35-43. Plangus seeks rescue. 
 
 43V. The Second Booke or Acte. 
 
 66. "Here endes the Second Booke or Acte." 
 
 66v. "Here Begin the Second Eglogues." 
 
 72-74V. (Part of Second Eclogues). Histor 
 sings the plaint that he overheard Plangus make 
 to Boulon: "Alas how longe this pilgrimage 
 dothe last." 
 
 76. Histor relates to Pamela the adventures of 
 the Princes after they left Erona. A giant in 
 Paphlagonia, by means of a dragon, levied tribute 
 consisting of girls and young men. Pyrocles and 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 473 
 
 Musidorus offered themselves and killed both 
 dragon and giant. (75v.) Next they arbitrated 
 a dispute between two brothers concerning the 
 throne of Syria. 
 
 76. One brother they caused to marry the 
 heiress of Paphlagonia. Next "the great Lady 
 of Palestina, called Andromana," sought their aid 
 against an Arabian prince, and then fell in love 
 with Pyrocles and Musidorus. (76V.) She im- 
 prisoned them; but when the Arabian prince 
 thereupon bade fair to conquer the country, the 
 people released them. Later Andromana mar- 
 ried an applemonger! The Princes went into 
 Egypt. 
 
 77. Near the City of Memphis, they rescued 
 Thermuthis from villains who were about to 
 murder him. He was servant to Amasis, Prince 
 of Egypt, and told his master's story : 
 
 " Amasis, sonne and heyre to Sesostris, Kinge 
 of Egipt" was pledged in love to Artaxia, but 
 was solicited by his young stepmother (not 
 named) who being rejected began to hate him 
 (7yv.) , and plotted to ruin him. She feigned 
 love to Thermuthis, Amasis's servant, whom she 
 corrupted; and then began to accuse Amasis to 
 his father, as having attempted her chastity. 
 Further, she procured Thermuthis to disguise 
 himself as the Prince, and be ready to murder 
 the King. But when she would have had him 
 apprehended, he fled, was pursued (78), and 
 found by Pyrocles and Musidorus as aforesaid. 
 Meanwhile Amasis had been by his father's or- 
 ders set adrift in a ship on the Red Sea. Pyrocles 
 
474 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 and Musidorus rescued him and got Thermuthis 
 to tell his story to Sesostris, who restored Amasis 
 to favor. The guilty stepmother killed herself. 
 
 79V. So much did Histor tell of Plangus's ac- 
 count of the adventures of Pyrocles and Musi- 
 dorus. Basilius cut him short in their praises, 
 fearing lest Cleophila should be kindled thereby 
 with love for Pyrocles! So he called Philisides 
 to sing. The remainder of the Second Eclogue 
 contains no further narrative. 
 
 82. "Here ende the Second Eglogues and 
 Second Booke." 
 
 82V. "The Thirde Booke or Acre": "Cleo- 
 phila . . . went to the same place, where first 
 shee had reveyled unto hym (Musidorus) her in- 
 closed passyon, and was by hym as you may 
 remember with a fTrendly sharpenes reprehended. 
 There sitting downe amongst the sweete flowers 
 wherof that contry was very plentyfull, and in 
 the pleasant shade of a Brodeleaved Sicamor, 
 they recoumpted one to another theyre straunge 
 pilgrimage of passyons, omitting no thinge w ch 
 th r open harted friendship ys wonte to lay forth," 
 etc. 
 
 Ed. 1627, p. 347 (after the gap) : 
 
 "After that Basilius (according to the Oracles 
 promise) had receiued home his daughters, and 
 settled himself again in his solitary course & 
 accustomed company, there passed not many 
 daies ere the now fully recomforted Dorus hav- 
 ing waited a time of Zelmanes walking alone 
 towards her little Arbor, took leave of his master 
 Dametas' husbandry to follow her. Neare 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 475 
 
 whereunto ouertaking her, and sitting downe to- 
 gether among the sweet flowers whereof that 
 place was very plentifull, vnder the pleasant 
 shade of a broad-leaued Sycamor, they re- 
 counted," etc. 
 
 [This is the point of junction between the 
 Old and the New Arcadia.] 
 
 121. "The Third Eglogues." 
 
 13OV. " Here ende the Thirde Booke and Third 
 Eglogues." (Contain no narrative matter — 
 either episodes or earlier history of Princes.) 
 
 131-166. "The Fourth Booke or Acte." Cor- 
 responds, at beginning — with slight changes — 
 and at ending, with Fourth Book in ed. 1627). 
 
 166. "The Ende of the Fourthe Booke." 
 
 i66v. " Here Begin the Fourthe Eglogues." 
 
 1 77V. "Here ende the Fourth Eglogues, and 
 the Fourthe Booke or Acte." 
 
 The Fourth Eglogues contain no episodes, or 
 early history of Pyrocles and Musidorus; but 
 contain autobiographical passage about Philisides 
 (transcribed by Dobell, p. 91-93). Fourth Book 
 corresponds to Fourth Book of 1627. 
 
 178-216. "The Ffifte and Last Booke or 
 Acte." (Begins and ends at same points as Bk. 
 Five of 1627. Begins : " The dangerous division 
 of mens mindes " ; ends : " Wherewith myne is 
 allready dulled.") 
 
 216. But the list of unfinished episodes left to 
 another pen to complete differs, in that the MS 
 omits Helen and Amphialus and mentions Amasis 
 and Artaxia. Thus : 
 
 "But the solempnityes of the Marriages with 
 
476 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 the Arcadian pastoralls full of many Comicall 
 adventures happening to those Rurall Lovers, 
 the strange story of the fay re Queen Artaxia of 
 Persia and Erona of Lydia with the Prince Plan- 
 gus wonderfull chaunces whome the later had 
 sent to Pyrocles, and the extreme affection 
 Amasis Kinge of Egipt bare unto the former: 
 the Sheperdish Loves of Menalcas with Kalo- 
 dulus daughter," etc. 
 
 (So also Ashburnham MS ad fin.) 
 
APPENDIX C 
 
 Bibliographical Notes on Wm. Burton's 
 Translation of Achilles Tatius 
 
 The following account is reprinted from the 
 (London) Times Weekly Edition Literary Sup- 
 plement for Friday, February 10, 1905. 
 
 An Elizabethan Discovery 
 
 Mr. R. A. Peddie writes to us from St. Bride 
 Foundation, Bride-lane, E.C., announcing a dis- 
 covery of much interest to bibliographers which 
 he has recently made — a copy, namely, of a hither- 
 to uncatalogued and undescribed Elizabethan 
 translation of Achilles Tatius. 
 
 Of the earliest specimens of Greek fiction little 
 is known save from lexical works such as the 
 Bibliotheca of Photius. Among the earliest 
 specimens are the " Erotica " of Achilles Tatius, 
 who is generally supposed to have been a con- 
 temporary of the shadowy Musaeus, inspirer of 
 Marlowe's immortal lay of " Hero and Leander." 
 From the somewhat conjectural authority of the 
 Dictionary of Suidas we gather that Tatius was 
 an Alexandrian Greek and a highly renowned 
 rhetorician. Originally a pagan, he eventually 
 became a Christian and a Bishop. The romance 
 by which he is known bears no kind of episcopal 
 impress. On the contrary, the improbable story 
 that Heliodorus was obliged to choose between 
 477 
 
478 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 recalling his " Aethiopica " or resigning his see 
 would be much more applicable to Tatius and his 
 erotic fable. Modelled upon the "Theagenes 
 and Chariclea" of Heliodorus, with many sug- 
 gestions from Plato, the tale of Clitophon and his 
 Leucippe was manifestly designed to air the 
 graces of a consummate rhetorician. This is 
 clearly shown in the opening scene (suggested, 
 perhaps, by descriptions in the " Amores " and 
 "Imagines" of Lucian), in which the narrator 
 is introduced to us admiring a picture of the 
 rape of Europa in the Temple of Venus at Sidon, 
 and thinking his impressions aloud, when he is 
 suddenly addressed by a young Phoenician 
 named Clitophon, who tells the sympathetic con- 
 noisseur a long-drawn story of tangled love 
 (ja Kara Aev/cnrir^v real K.\eiTO<j)(ovTa) . The 
 story is a tedious, and in all respects mediocre, 
 patchwork, as compared, for instance, with the 
 work of Heliodorus or Longus; but the diction 
 and style are accounted excellent, and the de- 
 scriptions have received the compliment of innu- 
 merable imitations. The work was highly popu- 
 lar, and was multiplied regularly during the 
 Middle Ages. The first critical edition, however, 
 was that undertaken by Jerome Commelinus, and 
 printed at Heidelberg in 1601, together with the 
 " Daphnis and Chloe " of Longus ; but a much 
 superior edition, based upon fresh collations, was 
 that undertaken by Milton's enemy, Salmasius, 
 and printed by Heger, with a charming frontis- 
 piece, at Ley den in 1640 — this edition is still in 
 demand, though it is eclipsed in completeness by 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 479 
 
 the Leipzig issue of 1776 with Boden's notes, and 
 by the volume in Didot's " Erotici Scriptores," 
 1856, in which the ancient Latin translation of 
 Annibal della Croce (originally printed by Gry- 
 phius at Lyons in 1544) was retouched by Hir- 
 schig. A French translation by Claude Colet goes 
 back as far as 1545. The earliest complete 
 Italian version that we have seen is that of 
 Coccio, Venice, 1560, though a substantial frag- 
 ment had been rendered by Ludovico Dolce in 
 1547. The French took most kindly to the tale 
 and translated it again and again. The most 
 recherche edition is that of Jean Baudoin, the 
 translator of Sidney, with a delicious frontispiece 
 by Abraham Bosse (Paris, 1635), a book which 
 we can feel morally certain was in the library 
 of the author of " Manon Lescaut." The Eng- 
 lish version commonly referred to is that of 
 Anthony Hodges "The Loves of Clitophon and 
 Leucippe; A most elegant History written in 
 Greeke by Achilles Tatius : and now Englished " 
 (Oxford, 1638). The previous translation of 
 Burton seems to have been entirely ignored by 
 the friends of the 1638 translator (including the 
 poet Richard Lovelace), who prefix glowing com- 
 mendatory verses to his sufficiently agreeable and 
 idiomatic performance. This emphasizes the in- 
 terest of Mr. Peddie's discovery, and gives rise 
 to the suspicion that episcopal activity may have 
 suppressed the original version. The year 1597 
 was the identical one in which the Archbishop 
 caused the " Amores " of Marlowe to be publicly 
 burnt. 
 
480 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Mr. Peddie's letter is as follows: 
 
 "The first English translation of Achilles 
 Tatius is one of those books of which every one 
 has heard, but which no one appears to have seen. 
 No bibliographer gives a description of the work 
 which even suggests that he had seen a copy. 
 The entry in the Stationers' Registers (Arber, 
 III. 81), is as follows: 
 
 "Vto Aprilis [1597] Thomas Creede Entred for 
 his copie vnder th[e h]andes of master Barlowe and 
 master warden Dawson a booke entituled ' The most 
 delectable and plesant historye of Clitophon and 
 Leucippe,' written in Greeke, by Achilles Stacius 
 and Alexandrian, and nowe newlie translated into 
 Englishe by W. B. . . . vjd. 
 
 "The W. B. given as the translator was Wil- 
 liam Burton (1575-1645), author of the ' De- 
 scription of Leicestershire,' and elder brother of 
 Robert Burton, author of the ' Anatomy of Mel- 
 ancholy.' Mr. A. H. Bullen, in his article on 
 William Burton, in the 'Dictionary of National 
 Biography,' Vol. 8, p. 18, says : 
 
 "In his manuscript ' Antiquitates de Lindley* (an 
 epitome of which is given in Nichols's ' Leicester- 
 shire,' IV. 651-6) he states that on applying himself 
 to the study of law he still continued to cultivate 
 literature, and he mentions that he wrote in 1596 
 an unpublished Latin comedy ' De Amoribus Per- 
 inthii et Tyanthes,' and in 1597 a translation (also 
 unpublished) of 'Achilles Tatius.' 
 
 "The last statement is altogether unfounded, 
 as will be seen from the following passage from 
 the MS. mentioned: 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 48 1 
 
 "... Anno sequenti transtulit in linguam ver- 
 naculam historiam Achillis Statii de Amoribus Cli- 
 tophontis et Leucippes impressam Londini 1597, 
 per Thomam Creede." Nichols's " Leicestershire," 
 IV. 653. 
 
 " I have been fortunate enough to discover a 
 copy of this exceedingly rare Tudor translation 
 in the library of Mr. A. T. Porter. He acquired 
 it in 1897 from the debris of an old library be- 
 lieved to come from the neighborhood of Win- 
 chester. The copy, unfortunately, is not perfect 
 — wanting three leaves — but, otherwise, it is in 
 good condition. The collation is A-U. 4. It 
 may be described as follows: A. i. [? blank] 
 wanting. A. ii [Title] wanting. A. iii. Dedica- 
 tion ' To the Right Honourable Henry Wriothes- 
 ley, Earle of Southampton, and Baron of Titch- 
 field, W. B. wisheth continuance of health, with 
 prosperous estate and felicitie.' The Dedication 
 continues on the verso, and is signed 'Your 
 Honours in all dutie: W. B.' A. iv "To the 
 Curteous Reader.' An address. Signed 'Your 
 friend, W.B.' B. i The text. U. iv is wanting, 
 and no doubt is the only leaf wanting at the 
 end. 
 
 "The book adds another to the list of those 
 dedicated to Henry Wriothesley, 3rd Earl of 
 Southampton (1 573-1624). Mr. Sidney Lee, in 
 his article on Wriothesley, in the " Dictionary of 
 National Biography," gives the names of several, 
 but does not mention this one. Wriothesley gave 
 a collection of books to St. John's College, Cam- 
 bridge. Is it possible there may be a copy of the 
 Clitophon and Leucippe amongst them ? " 
 
482 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 The suggestion that the older translation may 
 be in the St. John's College Library is not con- 
 firmed by Cowie's " Catalogue," nor is there a 
 copy in the library at Britwell. 
 
 To this I may add, from an examination of 
 the volume (August 20, 19 10), that the text on 
 B 1 recto begins: "The first Booke of Achilles 
 Statius, of the loue of Clitiphon and Leucippe " ; 
 that the running title is : "A most pleasant His- 
 toric of Clitiphon and Leucippe"; and that the 
 text ends on U 3 verso with the words: "And 
 as shee was a virgin when he tooke her away: 
 so he suffered her to continue as before he 
 had promised: but hee himselfe in handling 
 
 [catchzvord] many " 
 The story is thus brought within a paragraph of 
 its close; so that, as Mr. Peddie says, not more 
 than one leaf can there be wanting. 
 
 The Librarian of St. John's College, as I am 
 informed by Mr. Porter, reports, after a search, 
 that no copy of this volume exists in the College 
 Library. 
 
BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 A. = Amyot. 
 
 Achilles Tatius. Clitophon and Leucippe. 
 Greek text in Scriptores Erotici, q. v. 
 
 Achillis Tatii Alexandrini de Leucippes et 
 Clitophontis Amoribus Libri Octo. Tex- 
 tum . . . recensuit . . . Friedericus 
 Iacobs. . . . Lipsiae, In Bibliopolio Dy- 
 kiano, MDCCCXXI. 
 
 Amorosi Ragionamenti, dialogo, nel quale si 
 racconta un compassionevole amore di 
 due amanti, tradotto per M. Lodovico 
 Dolce da i fragmenti d'uno antico scrittor 
 greco. Vinegia, Gabriel Giolito de' Fer- 
 rari, 1546. 
 
 The most delectable and plesant historye of 
 Clitophon and Leucippe . . . nowe newlie 
 translated into Englishe by W. B. [= 
 William Burton.] [1597.] (See pp. 
 246-7, and Appendix C.) 
 
 The Loves of Clitophon and Leucippe. A 
 most elegant History, written in Greeke 
 by Achilles Tatius: And now Englished 
 . . . Oxford . . . 1638. [Translated by 
 A. H. = Anthony Hodges.] 
 Adams, Joseph Quincy, Jr. Greene's " Mena- 
 phon " and " The Thracian Wonder." In 
 Modern Philology, III. 317-325 (January, 
 1906). 
 
 Thomas Forde's Love's Labyrinth. In 
 Studies in Language and Literature in 
 483 
 
484 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Celebration of the Seventieth Birthday of 
 James Morgan Hart. New York, 1910. 
 Pp. 1-42 ; esp. pp. 29 ff". 
 
 Addison, Joseph. " Notes " on his translations 
 from Ovid. In The Works of The Right 
 Honourable Joseph Addison collected by 
 Mr. Tickell. 6 vols. London, 1804. Vol. 
 VI. 
 
 Aelian. De Natura Animalium; Varia His- 
 toria ; ... ex recognitione Rudolphi Her- 
 cheri. 2 vols. Lipsiae, 1864-6 (Teubner). 
 
 iEth. = yEthiopica. See Heliodorus. 
 
 Allgemeine Encyklopadie der Wissenschaften 
 und Kiinste . . , hrsgb. von J. S. Ersch 
 und J. G. Gruber. Leipzig, 1818-. 
 (Section 1, 99 vols., completed.) 
 
 Amyot. See Heliodorus and Longus. 
 
 Anacreon. Anacreontis Teii quae vocantur 
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 Anthologia Graeca . . . Palatina cum Planudea. 
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 Antonius Diogenes. The Marvels beyond 
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 Arc. = Arcadia. See Sidney. 
 
 Aristotle. Aristotle's Theory of Poetry and 
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 A. T. = Achilles Tatius. 
 
 Athenae Oxonienses ... by Anthony A Wood. 
 ... A new edition, with additions, and a 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 485 
 
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 Athis et Prophilias. Sagan om Athis och Pro- 
 
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 Athis und Prophilias. Erste ausgabe der fran- 
 
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 Atkins, J. W. H. Elizabethan Prose Fiction. 
 
 In The Cambridge History of English 
 
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 Bigot, Charles. Raphael and the Villa Farne- 
 
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 Boccaccio, Giovanni. Opere Volgari di Gio- 
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486 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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 Cambridge History of English Literature, The. 
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 Chariton. Chaereas and Callirrhoe. See 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 4^7 
 
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 Daphnis and Chloe. See Longus. 
 
 Day. See Longus. 
 
 Dictionary of National Biography. Ed. by Sir 
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488 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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 Dolce, Lodovico. See Achilles Tatius. 
 
 Dunlop, John Colin. History of Prose Fic- 
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 Elyot, Sir Thomas. The Boke named The 
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 [Contains Achilles Tatius; Antonius Dio- 
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 Ersch und Gruber. See Allgemeine Encyklo- 
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 Eustathius Makrembolites. Hysminias and 
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 (Ed.) Documents Relating to the Office of 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 489 
 
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 Galerie de Florence, La. Tableaux, Statues, 
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 Gassmeyer, Georg Max. Samuel Richardson's 
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49° THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 49 1 
 
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 Die Sage von Athis und Prophilias. In 
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492 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 493 
 
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494 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 495 
 
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496 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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49^ THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
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 Richardson, Samuel. Works. Ed. Leslie 
 Stephen. 12 vols. London, 1883. 
 
 Rohde, Erwin. Der Griechische Roman und 
 seine Vorlaufer. Zweite . . . Auflage. 
 Leipzig, 1900. 
 
 Saintsbury, George. History of Criticism and 
 Literary Taste in Europe. 3 vols. Edin- 
 burgh, 1900-04. 
 
 Salverte, Francois de. Le Roman dans la 
 Grece Ancienne. Paris, 1894. 
 
 Sandys, John Edwin. A History of Classical 
 Scholarship. 3 vols. Cambridge, 1903-08. 
 
 Ste. Beuve, C.-A. fitude sur Virgile. Suivie 
 d'une fitude sur Quintus de Smyrne. 
 Paris, 1891. 
 
 Schwartz, Eduard. Fiinf Vortrage iiber den 
 griechischen Roman. Berlin, 1896. 
 
 Scott, Mary Augusta. Elizabethan Transla- 
 tions from the Italian; the titles of such 
 works now first collected and arranged, 
 with annotations. In Publications of the 
 Modern Language Association of Amer- 
 
502 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 ica. Vol. X, pp. 249-293; XI, 377-484; 
 
 xiii, 42-153; xiv, 465-571. 
 
 Scriptores Erotici. Pub. Didot, Paris, 1856. 
 Greek texts and Latin translations. Ed. 
 Hirschig, LeBas, Lapaume, and Bois- 
 sonade. [Contains Achilles Tatius; An- 
 tonius Diogenes; Apollonius Tyrius; 
 Chariton Aphrodisiensis ; Eustathius Ma- 
 krembolites ; Heliodorus ; Iamblichus ; 
 Longus ; Nicetas Eugenianus ; Parthenius ; 
 Xenophon Ephesius.] 
 
 Shakespeare, William. Works. Ed. by Wil- 
 liam Aldis Wright. 9 vols. London and 
 New York, 1894 (Macmillan). (The 
 Cambridge Shakespeare.) 
 Works. Ed. with introduction and notes by 
 C. H. Herford. 10 vols. London and 
 New York, 1899 (Macmillan). (Evers- 
 ley Edition.) 
 
 Sidney, Sir Philip. An Apologie for Poetrie. 
 Ed. J. Churton Collins. Oxford, 1907. 
 The Countess of Pembrokes Arcadia: the 
 " Clifford " and the "Ashburnham " MSS. 
 (See p. 345 and Appendix B.) 
 The Countesse of Pembrokes Arcadia. Ori- 
 ginal quarto of 1590 in photographic fac- 
 simile. Ed. by H. Oskar Sommer. Lon- 
 don, 1 89 1. 
 The Countess of Pembrokes Arcadia . . . now 
 the sixt time published, with some new 
 additions ; also a supplement of a defect in 
 the third part ... by Sir W. Alexander, 
 and a sixth booke ... by Richard Beling. 
 [Folio.] London, 1627. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 503 
 
 The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia. With 
 the additions of Sir William Alexander 
 and Richard Beling, . . . and an Intro- 
 duction by Ernest A. Baker. London and 
 New York [n. d. Introduction dated 
 1907]. 
 Spenser, Edmund. The Complete Works. Ed. 
 ... by the Rev. Alexander B. Grosart, in 
 association with others. 10 vols. Printed 
 for the Spenser Society [London]. 1882- 
 
 84. 
 
 Stationers' Register. A Transcript of the Regis- 
 ters of the Company of Stationers of 
 London, 1554-1640 A. D. Ed. by Edward 
 Arber. 5 vols. London, 1875-94. 
 
 Stravoskiadis, Andreas. Achilles Tatius ein 
 Nachahmer des Plato, Aristoteles, Plu- 
 tarch und Aelian. Athen, 1889. 
 
 Susemihl, Franz. Geschichte der griechischen 
 Litteratur in der Alexandrinerzeit. 2 
 vols. Leipzig, 1891-92. 
 
 T. & C. = Theagenes and Chariclea. 
 
 Tasso, Torquato. Opere, Ed. Gio. Rosini. 33 
 vols. Pisa, 1821-32. 
 
 Tennyson, Alfred, Lord. The Works of Al- 
 fred, Lord Tennyson, ed. by Hallam, Lord 
 Tennyson. 6 vols. New York, 1908. 
 (Eversley Edition.) 
 
 Thaun, Philippe de. Le Bestiaire. Ed. 
 Emanuel Walberg. Lund, 1900. 
 
 Theagenes and Chariclea. See Heliodorus. 
 
 Theocritus, Bion and Moschus, rendered into 
 English Prose with an Introductory 
 
504 THE GREEK ROMANCES IN 
 
 Essay by A. Lang. London and New 
 York, 1892 (Golden Treasury Series). 
 And see Bucolici Graeci. 
 
 Theodorus Prodromus. Text not in Scrip- 
 tores Erotici (Didot), but in Erotici Scrip- 
 tores (Teubner), q. v. 
 
 Thomas de Cantimpre (Thomas Cantimpra- 
 tensis). De Proprietatibus Apum. Lib. 
 II, cap. 19 : " De mutua et vera amicitia." 
 (Summary in W. Grimm, Kleinere Schrif- 
 ten, III. 353-40 
 
 Tuchert, Aloys. Racine und Heliodor. Zwei- 
 briicken, 1889. 
 
 TJ. = Underdowne. 
 
 Underdowne. See Heliodorus. 
 
 Wagner, C. P. The Sources of " El Cavallero 
 Cifar." In Revue Hispanique, X (1903), 
 p. 4 ft; pp. 80-82. 
 
 Walden, J. W. H. Stage Terms in Heliodorus's 
 Aethiopica. In Harvard Studies in Clas- 
 sical Philology, 1894. Vol. V, pp. 1-43. 
 
 Ward, H. L. D. Catalogue of Romances in the 
 Department of Manuscripts in the British 
 Museum. London, 1883. (On"Athiset 
 Prophilias ", pp. 173, 929.) 
 
 Warner, William. Albions England. In 
 Chalmers, English Poets, 1810, Vol. IV, 
 pp. 498-658. 
 
 Warren, F. M. A History of the Novel 
 previous to the 17th Century. New York, 
 1895 (Holt). 
 
 Whibley. See Heliodorus, An Aethiopian 
 Historie. 
 
ELIZABETHAN PROSE FICTION 5°5 
 
 Wickhoff, Franz. Venezianische Bilder. In 
 Jahrb. d. Kgl. preussischen Kunstver- 
 sammlnngen, 1902. Vol. 23, pp. 1 18-123. 
 
 Wilson, John Dover. Euphues and the Prod- 
 igal Son. In The Library, New Series, 
 X, 337-361 (October, 1909). 
 
 Wolff, Samuel Lee. Robert Greene and the 
 Italian Renaissance. In Englische Stu- 
 dies xxxvii, 321-374. 
 
 Scott's "Ivanhoe" and Sidney's "Arcadia." 
 (See The Nation, vol. 92, pp. 7, 60, 114. 
 New York, Jan. 5, Jan. 19, Feb. 2, 191 1.) 
 
 A Source of "Euphues. The Anatomy of 
 Wyt." In Modern Philology, VII, 577- 
 585 (April, 1910). 
 Wyttenbach, Daniel Albert. Bibhotheca 
 Critica. 3 vols. Amstelodami, 1779- 
 1808. (In 12 Partes, at first issued sepa- 
 rately. Pars II, containing at p. 57-8 the 
 remarks quoted ante, p. 157, is dated 
 
 J 777-) „ . ^ . . 
 
 Xenophon of Ephesus. See Scnptores brotici. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Achilles Tatius, I, 7, 9; Cli- 
 tophon and Leucippe, edi- 
 tions and translations, 9, 
 245-247, 375. 477-482; An- 
 alysis, 43-110 
 
 Plot controlled by Fortune, 
 117-119, 126, 137; hieratic 
 or providential activity at 
 minimum, 117; Virtu vs. 
 Fortuna, 120; absence of 
 pastoral, 122 
 
 Character distorted, 117- 
 119; mendacious, 142; dis- 
 placed by rhetorical display 
 of sentimentality, 144-146; of 
 Clitophon, 146-149; low char- 
 acters from Comedy: Satyrus, 
 Clio, Sosthenes, Thersander, 
 149-150; Leucippe, 152-153; 
 Melitta, 154-157. Disregards 
 moral connections between 
 character, action, and conse- 
 quences, 138; love sensual, 
 128; scarcely dignified by a 
 superficial chastity, 128-130; 
 but chivalrous in episodic 
 novella of Callisthenes and 
 Calligone, 132; artes amandi, 
 136. Humor: high comedy, 
 154-155; affinity to realism, 
 157, 160; comic genre- 
 scenes, 161; generally, in- 
 herent in situation, 162 
 
 Setting, historical, vague, 
 163; geographical, non-essen- 
 tial, generally lacks local color, 
 and employed to instruct or 
 entertain, but occasionally 
 produces real background, 
 164, 166, 167; descriptive, is 
 rhetorical show-piece, 169- 
 171; Europa, painting of, 
 171-173; irrelevancy of word- 
 paintings, 173-176; excep- 
 tions have broader range of 
 
 imagery and form part of 
 narrative, 174-175 
 
 Theatrical conception and 
 terminology, 183 n. 55. Lack 
 of spirituality, 190-191. Spec- 
 tacular heroics, 190-191 
 
 Narrative structure, 199- 
 210: narration by hero, 199; 
 who inconsistently assumes 
 omniscience, 199-200; dra- 
 matic choice of persons to 
 convey information, 200; 
 time-arrangement chronolog- 
 ical, free from epic conven- 
 tions, and detailed, 200-201; 
 suspense, 201, 202; irrele- 
 vancies, 201-210: of Plot, 
 202-206; of Characterization, 
 206; of Setting, 206-207; of 
 Science and Pseudo-Science, 
 207-210 
 
 Paradox, 211-212. Irony, 
 216-217. Antithesis: Bridal 
 and Burial, 218; Land and 
 Water, 219; Fire and Water, 
 218 n. 79; Living Tomb, 220; 
 artificial and largely verbal, 
 221-235: Rivalry, 227-228; 
 Conflicting Emotions, 228- 
 229; Balance, 229-231; Home- 
 ophony, 231-233 
 
 Style highly artificial, 222 
 n. 81; artificially simple, 232 
 n. 86 
 
 Adams, Joseph Quincy, Jr., 
 442 n. 66 
 
 Addison, Joseph, 170 n. 39, 172 
 n. 44 
 
 Aelian, 1, 170, 357 n. 35, 380 
 n. 21, 384 n. 28, 415 
 
 Albani, 172 n. 45 
 
 Alexandrianism, 2-4, 7 
 
 Alliteration, 5, 231-233, Z77" 
 379. 380-381 
 
 506 
 
INDEX 
 
 5°7 
 
 Amadis of Gaul. 311 n. 3. 3*8- 
 
 319. 344 
 Amorous Woman, 133; Arsace, 
 Demaeneta, Melitta, 1545 
 Arsace, 3" J Arsace, De- 
 maeneta, Andromana, 313- 
 314, 348-349. 473-474; Me- 
 litta, Gynecia, 314; Arsace, 
 Demaeneta, etc., 412 
 Amyot, Jacques, translation 
 of AZthiopica, 8, 237-238. 
 Translation of Daphnis and 
 Chloe, 8, 237, 239; compared 
 with Day's version, 240-245, 
 465-469; compared with ori- 
 ginal, and with Day, Pan- 
 dosto, and Winter's Tale 
 (Table), 448-450 
 Anacreon, 172 
 Anaxagoras, 4 n. 3 
 Animal Mother suckles human 
 infant; human mother suckles 
 animal infant: (Longus, Boc- 
 caccio, Greene) 371-372; 
 (Longus, Greene) 448 
 (Table), 454 
 Anthology, Greek, 143 n. 25 
 Antiochus and Stratonice, 416 
 Antithesis, 5, 7. 140-141. *44~ 
 146, 153. *56, 212, 242, 245. 
 357-366, 398-399, 437-438, 
 450 n. 68, 457. 460 
 
 Banquet and Battle, 212, 
 213, 360, 366 additional 
 note. Captor servant to 
 captive, 212, 214, 361-362. 
 Native land more dangerous 
 than foreign lands, 213, 415. 
 444. Confession of murder 
 of person still alive, 217, 3* 7. 
 319, 320, 406, 419- Bridal 
 and Burial, 217-218, 221, 250 
 n. 3. Land and Water, 218- 
 220, 221, 359- Water and 
 Fire, 218 n. 79. 359"36o, 398- 
 399. Living Tomb, 220, 361 
 Artificial and largely ver- 
 bal, 221-235: Antithesis 
 proper, distinguished from 
 oxymoron, 221-222; examples, 
 222-229; Rivalry, 227-228, 
 377; Conflicting Emotions, 
 
 228-229, 256 n. 3, 335. 363. 
 405; Multiple Antithesis, 229; 
 Balance in syntax, 222, 229- 
 231, 380-381; Homeophony, 
 
 231-233 . _ 
 
 Once genuine expression of 
 philosophic dualism, in Greek 
 Romances mere artifice, 234 
 Virtu and Fortuna, 120 & 
 n. 5, 151. 3 26 -328, 377. 386 
 & n. 30, 436 n. 60 
 
 Dead men possessors of 
 rich sroil (Heliodorus, Sid- 
 ney), 358-359 
 
 In ureene, 376-377 '• Wit 
 and Will, etc., 377; brought 
 about by Fortune, 380-381, 
 398-399; brought about by 
 Love and Fortune, 437"438 
 Antonius Dioeenes, Marvels 
 Beyond Thule. or Dinias and 
 Dercyllis, 8, 164 n. 36 
 'A<t>e\€la, 232 n. 86 
 
 Apollonius of Tyre, 10 n. 1 a 
 
 Apollonius Rhodius, 3 
 
 Aristotle, 1, 5 n. 4, 7. M3. *44. 
 188 
 
 Ars Amatoria, 136 
 
 Articulation of Plot, in Lyly's 
 Euphues, same as in Tito and 
 Gisippo and Athis et ■ Pro- 
 philias, and (probably) as in 
 lost Greek Romance, 248- 
 251, 255-256, 258-261, 458, 
 461 
 
 Assonance, 231-233, 378-379 
 
 Athis et Prophilias, 248, 250- 
 253. 255-256, 258-261 
 
 Atkins, J. W. H., 442 n. 60 
 
 Background, see Setting 
 Balance, Syntactical, 222, 229- 
 
 232, 377-379. 380-381 
 Balzac, Honore de, 157 
 Banished Nobleman heads Out- 
 laws, 310 
 Banquet and Battle, see An- 
 tithesis 
 Batrachomyomachia, 172 
 Beaumont and Fletcher, 344 
 Belleforest, 246 
 Bestiaries, 208, 209 n. 75 
 
5o8 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Bigot, Charles, 171 n. 41 
 
 Boccaccio, in contact with 
 Greek fiction, 248, 370-375. 
 De Casibus Virorum Illus- 
 trium, 386 n. 30 
 
 Tito and Gisippo (Dec. X. 
 8), a source of Lyly's Eu- 
 phues, 248-250, 255; derived 
 from Athis et Prophilias, 
 248, 250-251, 255, 258-261 
 (Table), or directly from lost 
 Greek Romance, 248, 250, 
 252-253, 256; may have sug- 
 gested portions of Sidney's 
 Arcadia, 364 n. 37 
 
 All the novelle that Greene 
 takes from, probably from 
 lost Greek Romances, 370-375 : 
 Perimedes, first tale, from 
 Decam. II. 6, 370-372, 410; 
 Perimedes, second tale, from 
 Decant. V. 2, 372-373; Tal- 
 lies Love, episode of Fabius 
 and Terentia, from Decam. 
 V. 1, 373-374 
 
 Employs natural causation 
 in Decam. II. 6 to bring 
 about peripeteia, 388 
 
 And see Animal Mother; 
 Articulation of Plot; Fortune; 
 Hunt; Straying Animal 
 
 Boileau, 127 n. 9 
 
 Boissier, Gaston, 170 n. 40 
 
 Boissonade, edd. prince, of 
 Constantinus Manasses and 
 Nicetas Eugenianus, 10 
 
 Bouhours, Dominique, 218 n. 
 79, 220 n. 80, 224 n. 82 
 
 Bridal and Burial, see An- 
 tithesis 
 
 Brooke, Lord, 344 
 
 Brunet, J. C., 237 n. 3 
 
 Brunhuber, K., 308, 309 n. 2, 
 310, 311 n. 3, 313 n. 4, 314 
 n. 5, 316 n. 6, 318 n. 7, 328 
 "• 13, 330 n. 14, 334 n. 17, 
 344 nn. 24, 25, & 26, 413 
 
 Burton, William, translation of 
 Achilles Tatius, 9, 246 
 247, 477-482 
 
 Callimachus, 3 
 
 Callistratus, 170 
 
 Cambridge History of English 
 Literature, 343 n. 22, 442 n. 
 66 
 
 Cantimpre, Thomas de, 258- 
 261 
 
 Caro, Annibal, 240 
 
 Causation, 4, m. Longus 
 discards Fortune in favor 
 of, 124-126. In Greene, 
 wronged by false attribu- 
 tions to Fortune, 381 and n. 
 23; discarded in favor of 
 Fortune, 388-389; weak sense 
 of, 458. In Boccaccio, 388. 
 Shakespeare discards For- 
 tune in favor of, 453-456 
 
 Cavalier Cifar, El, 258-261 
 
 Character, in Greek Romances, 
 degenerates into sentimental- 
 ity, 6; causation and, not the 
 only motive forces of plot, 
 1 1 1 ; less prominent than 
 Plot, 137; 138-157: created 
 despite romancer's want of 
 interest, 138; timorous or de- 
 ceitful, because always yield- 
 ing to circumstances (For- 
 tune) or squirming out of 
 them, 138-140; distorted by 
 love of paradox, 141; menda- 
 cious, 141-143; displaced by 
 rhetorical display of senti- 
 mentality, 143-146; Clitophon, 
 146-149; from Comedy, — Sa- 
 tyrus, Clio, Sosthenes, Ther- 
 sander, 149-150; Theagenes, 
 1 50-151; Chariclea, 1 51-152; 
 Leucippe, 152-153; Melitta, 
 154-157: Greeks generally 
 moderate, barbarians passion- 
 ate, 153 n. 30; characteriza- 
 tion at its best in Melitta, 
 157; suggested by descriptive 
 Pathos, 179; in general, to- 
 gether with Plot and Setting, 
 tends to degenerate into mere 
 spectacle, 191; general dearth 
 of, 457 
 
 In Achilles Tatius, dis- 
 torted by control of Fortune, 
 1 1 7-1 18; disconnected from 
 
INDEX 
 
 509 
 
 consequences of its moral 
 choices, 138; mendacious, 
 142; displaced by rhetorical 
 display of sentimentality, 143- 
 146; Clitophon, 146-149; from 
 Comedy, — Satyrus, Clio, Sos- 
 thenes, Thersander, 149-150; 
 Leucippe, 152-153; Melitta, 
 1 S4~i57; irrelevancies of 
 characterization, 206 
 
 In Heliodorus, timorous or 
 deceitful, 139-140; sometimes 
 falsely motived, 140-141; 
 sometimes displaced by pa- 
 thos, 144; Theagenes, 150- 
 151; Chariclea, 1 51-152 
 
 In Longus, cowardly, 139; 
 mendacious, 141; sometimes 
 displaced by rhetorical dis- 
 play of sentimentality, 144 
 
 In novella, not profound, 
 37o 
 
 In Ly\y' sEuphues, set forth 
 as in Tito and Gisippo and 
 Athis et Prophilias, and 
 (probably) as in lost Greek 
 Romance, 249, 251, 258-261 
 In Sidney, {q. v.), 314, 
 328-330 
 
 In Greene, often shallow 
 and unmotived, 370, 429- 
 432; rendered inconsistent 
 by subjection to Fortune, 
 381; set forth by means of 
 antithesis, 376-377; drawing 
 of, not within Greene's 
 powers, 407; weak sense of, 
 458; dearth of, as in Greek 
 Romance, 457 
 
 Love transforms, 132, 373- 
 374, 438 n. 65 
 
 In English novel, finds 
 structural frame prepared, in 
 part, by Sidney's Arcadia, 
 463 
 Charadrius, 208-209 
 Chariton of Aphrodisias, Chae- 
 reas and Callirrhoe, 8, 163 
 n. 35 
 Chastity, Fortune and, 120 n. 
 5; dignifies sensual love, 127. 
 In Achilles Tatius, superficial, 
 
 117, 128-130. In Heliodorus, 
 genuine, 127-128. In Lon- 
 gus, aim not to preserve but 
 to lose, 130. In Greene, a 
 phase of philogyny, 411. 
 Preserved till entry into 
 kingdom, end of voyage, or 
 fulfilment of oracle, 127, 
 309, 424, 432, 445. Vindi- 
 cated by trial or ordeal, 128, 
 175. 308, 418-423, 426-428, 
 446 
 Christ, Wilhelm, 8, 133 n. 16, 
 
 198 n. 66 
 Chrysocephalus. Macarius, 
 
 compiler of 'PoSwna, 10 
 Cicero, 256 n. 3, 386 n. 30 
 Cocchi, ed. princ. of Xenophon 
 
 of Ephesus, 8 
 Coccio, Angelo, translation of 
 
 Achilles Tatius, 9, 246 
 Code of Love, 136 
 Collin, Raphael, 131 n. 14, 168 
 
 n- 37 
 
 Colonna, Francesco, Hypnero- 
 
 tomachia Poliphili, 172 n. 45, 
 
 334 n. 17 
 
 Comedy, " New " Attic and 
 
 Roman, low characters from, 
 
 in Achilles Tatius, 149-150. 
 
 Of the Renaissance, 149. 
 
 Achilles Tatius's affinity to, 
 
 155, 157, 160, 183 n. 55, 
 
 200. Realism and, 157-158 
 
 Complication, 195, 198-199, 
 
 349-350 
 Comingeois, B., translation of 
 
 Achilles Tatius, 9, 246 
 Commelin, Jerome, ed. princ. 
 
 of Achilles Tatius, 9, 246 
 Confession of crime not com- 
 mitted, 217, 317, 319-320, 
 406, 419 
 Conflicting Emotions, real, 155; 
 device to produce antithesis, 
 6, 145, 228-229, 256 n. 3, 
 335. 363, 377, 405 
 Constantinus Manasses, Arts- 
 
 tander and Callithea, 10 
 Coordinate sentence-structure, 
 
 232 n. 86 
 Cosmopolitanism, 2, 153 n. 30 
 
5io 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Couat, Auguste, 3 n. 2 
 
 Courier. Paul Louis, 30 n. 6, 
 205 n. 72, 241, 465 n. 1 
 
 Croce, Annibale della, trans- 
 lation of Achilles Tatius, 9, 
 246 
 
 Croiset, A. and M., 8, 124 
 n. 8 
 
 Daniele, Francesco, 240 n. 9 
 
 Dante, 135 n. 20 
 
 Day, Angel, paraphrase , of 
 Daphnis and Chloe, 8. 122 
 n. 6, 237; critical discussion 
 of, 240-245; 375-376, 433- 
 434. 447-450 (Table, 448- 
 450) ; a direct source of 
 Greene's Pandosto, and prob- 
 ably a direct source of 
 Winter's Tale, 452-455; tex- 
 tual notes on relation of, to 
 Amyot's version, 465-469 
 
 Debat, 6, 133, 205 n. 72, 369 
 
 De Casibus Virorum Illustrium, 
 386 n. 30 
 
 Denouement, brought about by 
 arrival of distant (hieratic) 
 person as deus ex machina, 
 (Heliodorus) 112-113, 116, 
 141 n. 23, 183, 309; (Greene's 
 Menaphon) 427-428; (Sid- 
 ney) 308, 309, 340; by Eros as 
 deus ex machina, (Longus) 
 121, 122. Paradoxical. (Helio- 
 dorus) 140, 213; (Greene), 
 419. Theatrical, (Heliodorus) 
 182-183; (Greene) 417-418. 
 Ensemble-scene, (Helio- 
 dorus) 184, 187; (Sidney) 
 307, 34o; (Greene) 417-419. 
 Retarded, (Heliodorus) 198. 
 Charge of abduction leads to, 
 (Heliodorus) 213, (Sidney) 
 309. Ironical, (Heliodorus) 
 
 215. Balanced against open- 
 ing scene, (Heliodorus) 213, 
 
 216. Father condemns child, 
 (Heliodorus, Sidney) 309, 
 329-330; (Greene) 392, 426- 
 427, 441, 445, 451-452- Ar- 
 ranged by Providence, (Heli- 
 odorus) 182-183, (Sidney) 
 
 322-323. Told in chrono- 
 logical order, (Sidney) 352. 
 Oratorical, (Sidney) 355, 
 (Greene) 418. Brought about 
 by Fortune, 387. A vindi- 
 cation of chastity; see Chas- 
 tity. A trial scene; see Trial- 
 scenes. A recognition; see 
 Recognition. A restoration 
 of children; see Restoration. 
 Fulfilment of an oracle; see 
 Oracle 
 Description, in Greek Romances, 
 excess of, 6, 167-168 
 
 In Longus, least offensive, 
 168; pictorial treatment of 
 incidents, ibid.; wide range 
 of sensuous imagery, 168- 
 169; moderation, 169; "rich- 
 ness in simplicity," ibid. 
 
 In Achilles Tatius, excess 
 of, 169-176: a trick of rhet- 
 oric, 169-170; pictorial, 170- 
 174; Europa, painting of, 
 171-173; irrelevancy, 173- 
 176; his relevant exceptions 
 have broader range of im- 
 agery and form part of nar- 
 rative, 174-175 
 
 In Heliodorus, 176-191; 
 spectacular, and relevant, 
 176-177, 181; "pathetic op- 
 tics," 177-179, 184, 189; 
 " hieratic epiphany," 179- 
 180, 188-180: theatrical con- 
 ception and terminology, 181- 
 184, 189; spectacular en- 
 semble-scenes, 184-189, 307, 
 340, 402, 417-422 
 
 In Sidney, 334-342. 366: 
 imitations of Achilles Tatius, 
 334-335', nothing from Lon- 
 gus, 335; imprese and Em- 
 blems not from Greek Ro- 
 mance, 335-337; imitations 
 of Heliodorus, — trionfo, 
 jewel, horsemanship, 337- 
 338; "pathetic optics," 338- 
 342, esp. at the trial, a spec- 
 tacular ensemble-scene, 340- 
 342 
 
INDEX 
 
 5" 
 
 Greene, deficient in talent 
 for, 402-403, 407, 421 
 
 Range of sensuous im- 
 agery in, 168-169, 172-176, 
 184, 242, 244, 403. And see 
 'EK<ppao-is; Setting 
 
 Dickens, Charles, 193, 197 n. 
 64 
 
 Digression, 6, 166, 175, 176 n. 
 48, 203, 350 n. 32 
 
 Dissimulation, 139-143, 311- 
 312, 329, 412 & n. 43, 444 
 
 Dobell, Bertram, 239 n. 6, 344, 
 345 
 
 Dolce, Lodovico, translation 
 of Achilles Tatius, 9, 246 
 
 " Dolce stil nuovo," 135 n. 20 
 
 Donne, 135 n. 20 
 
 D'Orville, ed. princ. of Chari- 
 ton, 8 
 
 Drama, Attic, 4. English, in- 
 fluenced by Greek Romance 
 through Elizabethan fiction, 
 463; see Beaumont and 
 Fletcher, Shakespeare. And 
 see Comedy; Theatrical con- 
 ception; Theatrical terminol- 
 ogy; Tragedy 
 
 Dryden, 230 n. 83 
 
 Dunlop, John Colin, 135 n. 19, 
 138 n. 21, 187 n. 56, 237 
 n. 3 
 
 Dubbio, 6, 133, 205, 369 
 
 Durer, Albrecht, 387 n. 31 
 
 'EK</>pa<ri? 169-170, 171 n. 41, 
 177, 232 n. 86, 334, 355, 363, 
 366, 393 n. 34, 399-403 
 Eloquentia, See Oratory 
 Elworthy, F. J., 209 n. 75 
 Elyot, Sir Thomas, 258-261 
 Emblems, in Greek Romances, 
 173 n. 46; in Sidney, 335- 
 338; in Greene, 387 n. 31, 
 402 and n. 37, 403 
 Empedocles, 234 
 Ensemble-Scenes, Spectacular, 
 See Spectacular Ensemble- 
 Scenes 
 Enveloping action, Urban, 
 frames pastoral, 123, 368, 
 432-433. Constituted by ad- 
 
 ventures of author, to whom 
 hero tells his tale, 199, 379; 
 but not continued after 
 hero's narrative, ibid. Con- 
 stituted by dubbio or dia- 
 logue, 369 
 
 Epic, Heliodorus's affinity to, 
 116-117, 157, 192-193; Ital- 
 ian romantic, Saracens in, 
 153 n. 30. Structure, con- 
 ventions of: in medias res, 
 192, 200, 351-352; and see 
 Narration by Participant 
 
 Epideictic, 169, 354 
 
 Epiphanv. Hieratic, see Hier- 
 atic Epiphany 
 
 Episodes, 6, 198, 202-203, 413; 
 Fortune's control confined 
 to, in Heliodorus, 114-115, 
 117; and in Sidney, 325. 
 Pastoral as, in urban story, 
 123, 368, 432-433- Callis- 
 thenes and Calligone, in 
 Achilles Tatius, 132, 201, 
 374. Cnemon, in Heliodorus, 
 133. *93, 201, 313, 319-320, 
 416 & n. 48. In Longus, 
 well subordinated, 199. Rele- 
 vancy or irrelevancy of, 196 
 n. 64, 199, 201. In Sidney, 
 3 1 1-3 14: the Captivity, 311- 
 312; the Paphlagonica, 312- 
 313; Plangus and Andro- 
 mana, 313-314; in the "Old" 
 and in the " New " Arcadia, 
 346-349; obscured by involu- 
 tion and complexity of nar- 
 rative method, 352; place of, 
 taken by oratory, 354. In 
 Greene: Fabius and Teren- 
 tia, in Tullies Loue, 370, 
 374 
 
 Eros, controls plot in Longus, 
 121; gives it initial impulse 
 by means of natural causes, 
 125; power of, in Achilles 
 Tatius, displayed in the pic- 
 ture of Europa, 173 
 
 " Eros-Motiv," 308, 413-414. 
 444 
 
 Ethopoieia, 143-145, 169 
 
 Ethos, 143, 144. 148, 157-158 
 
5" 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Euphuism, 208, 248 n. 1, 256 
 n. 3. 354. 367, 375. 377. 457. 
 460 
 
 Europa, painting of, 171-173, 
 393 n. 34, 399-401, 403 
 
 Eustathius Makrembolites, Hys- 
 minias and Hysmine, 10, 173 
 n. 46 
 
 Exposure of Child, in Helio- 
 dorus, in, 113, 410, 425, 
 427-428, 444, 446, 451. In 
 Longus, 123, 447-449, 454- 
 In Greene, 410, 423, 425, 427- 
 428, 431 n. 54, 444, 446, 448- 
 451. In Shakespeare, 448, 
 452-455 
 
 Fabliau, 149, 156, 157, 416 n. 
 48 
 
 Father condemns child, 309, 
 329-330, 392, 426-427, 441, 
 445, 451-452 
 
 Feast and Fight, see Banquet 
 and Battle 
 
 Feuillerat, Albert, 238 n. 5, 
 250 n. ia 
 
 Flaubert, Gustave, 157 
 
 Forster, Richard, 171 n. 41 
 
 Fortini, 161 
 
 Fortune, in Greek Romances, 
 overemphasized, 4, 6; to- 
 gether with Providence, prime 
 mover of story, 137-138; 
 makes character cowardly or 
 deceitful, 138-143; subjec- 
 tion to, 157 
 
 In Heliodorus, controlled 
 by Providence in main plot, 
 111-113, 116, 188; but con- 
 trols episodes, 114-115; 116, 
 117, 126 
 
 In Achilles Tatius, controls 
 main plot, 117; distorts char- 
 acter, 117-119, 143, 146; op- 
 poses, or co-operates with 
 Virtu, 120; very powerful, 
 126; moves the drama, 183 
 n. 55 
 
 In Longus, almost power- 
 less, 123 n. 7, 124, 126, 166 
 In Day, greatly overem- 
 phasised, 245 
 
 In Sidney, controlled by 
 Providence, 308, 322-323, 
 328; as a vera causa, rare, 
 324-325; and almost exclu- 
 sively in episodes, ibid.; 
 does not dominate Sidney, 
 and is viewed cootly and 
 speculatively, 324-325, or as 
 facon de parler, 324, 325- 
 326, or as a real, though weak, 
 antitheton to " Virtue," 326- 
 328: Providence subjects For- 
 tune to Virtue, 328 
 
 In Boccaccio, evidence of 
 derivation of certain stories 
 from Greek Romance, 372- 
 374 
 
 In Greene (q. v.). 375 J 
 used largely as in Achilles 
 Tatius, 380-392; used as in 
 Heliodorus: 409-411, 422 
 (shipwreck, theatrical situa- 
 tions) ; under control of the 
 gods, 423; exposed child com- 
 mitted to, 425, 446, 452; 
 used as in Longus, 435-438; 
 Fortune in pastoral, 435; 
 Fortune and Love, 435-438 
 
 In Shakespeare {Winter's 
 Tale), child committed to, 
 452; but agency of, largely 
 rejected in favor of natural 
 causation and human motive, 
 453-456 
 
 Blamed for human actions 
 and their plain consequences, 
 118-119, 137-8, 146, 381 and 
 n. 23. Love and, 374, 380, 
 435-438, 444. Forbids sus- 
 tained plot or characteriza- 
 tion, 381. Obscures moral 
 connections between charac- 
 ter, action, and consequen- 
 ces, 137-8. Brings about 
 paradoxical situations, 211- 
 212, 214-215, 325 n. 10, 357 
 & n. 35, 358, 380-381; shares 
 this function with Love, 437- 
 438. Its prevalence signifi- 
 cant of a base view of life 
 and literature, 234-235. Lues 
 Fortunae, in Day, 245; in 
 
INDEX 
 
 513 
 
 Greene, 381-384. Tycho- 
 mania, in Greene, 381-384, 
 457. Brings about theatrical 
 situations, 325 n. 10, 355- 
 357, 422, 446. Virtti and, 
 120 & n. 5, 151, 326-328, 
 377, 386 & n. 30, 436 n. 60. 
 Nature and, 382, 385 & n. 29. 
 Wheel of, 387 n. 31 
 Fournival, Richard de, 209 n. 
 
 75 
 Frame-tale, 195, 199, 369, 379, 
 393. 399- And see Envelop- 
 ing Action 
 Fraunce, Abraham, 344 
 Friends, Two, see Two Friends 
 Furtwangler, Adolf, 172 n. 43, 
 436 n. 59 
 
 Galerie de Florence, La, 172 n. 
 
 43 
 
 Gambara, Lorenzo, paraphrase 
 of Daphnis and Chloe, 8, 239 
 
 Gassmeyer, G. M., 463 n. 1 
 
 Gaulmin, ed. princ. and trans- 
 lation of Eustathius Mak- 
 rembolites, 9; ed. princ. of 
 Theodorus Prodromus, 10 
 
 Genre-scenes, 160-16 1, 175 
 
 Gesta Romanorum, 258-261 
 
 Gil Bias, 161 
 
 Giolito, Gabriele, 246 
 
 Giunta, Filippo, ed. princ. of 
 Longus, 9, 240 
 
 Glover, T. R., 170 n. 40 
 
 Goldsmith, Oliver, 253-256, 
 258-261 
 
 Gorgias, 7, 218 n. 70, 220, 221, 
 359, 361 
 
 Grasse, J. G. T., 237 n. 3 
 
 Greek Romances, general char- 
 acteristics, 1-7. Accessibility 
 to Elizabethan writers through 
 editions and translations, 2, 
 8-10 (Table), 237-247, 477- 
 482; influence upon English 
 literature threefold, 463: (a) 
 directly upon Elizabethan fic- 
 tion, 461, 463; (b) through 
 Elizabethan fiction, upon 
 drama {King Lear, Winter's 
 Tale, etc.) 463; (c) through 
 34 
 
 Elizabethan fiction {Arcadia), 
 and through French ro- 
 mances, upon later fiction 
 (novel) (Richardson, Scott), 
 462-464. The romances of 
 Heliodorus, Longus, and 
 Achilles Tatius, the only ex- 
 tant Greek Romances that 
 influence Elizabethan prose 
 fiction, 7. Chronology, 8-10 
 (Table) 
 
 Analyses, 11-iio: AZthio- 
 pica, 11-28; Daphnis and 
 Chloe, 29-42; Clitophon and 
 Leucippe, 43-110 
 
 Plot, 111-137: Activity of 
 Providence and of Fortune, 
 111-120, 123 n. 7, 126, 188; 
 of Human Character or 
 Personality {Virtii), 120; of 
 Love, 121-122, 127-137; of 
 Causation, 124-126; Pastoral 
 Element in, 121-124 
 
 Character, degenerates in- 
 to sentimentality, 6; causa- 
 tion and, not the only mo- 
 tive forces in plot, 1 1 1 ; less 
 prominent than Plot, 137; 
 138-157: created despite ro- 
 mancer's want of interest, 
 138; timorous or deceitful, 
 because either yielding to cir- 
 cumstances (Fortune) or 
 squirming out of them, 138- 
 140; distorted by love of 
 paradox, 141; mendacious 
 1 41-143; displaced by rhe 
 torical display of sentimen 
 tality, 143-146; of Clitophon 
 146-149; from Comedy, — Sa 
 tyrus, Clio, Sosthenes, Ther 
 sander, 149-150; of The 
 agenes, 1 50-1 5 1 ; of Chariclea 
 1 51-152; of Leucippe, 152- 
 153; of Melitta, 154-157; of 
 Greeks generally moderate, 
 of barbarians generally pas- 
 sionate, 153 n. 30; drawing 
 of, at its best in Melitta, 157 
 Humor, 154, 157-162: real- 
 ism and, 157-158; Helio- 
 dorus's, mostly in episodes, 
 
5*4 
 
 INDEX 
 
 weak, largely verbal, 158- 
 159, 162; Achilles Tatius's, 
 realistic, strong, often mas- 
 terly, inherent in situation, 
 160-162; Longus's, pervasive, 
 162 
 
 Setting, 162-192: Histor* 
 ical, vague, 163. Geograph- 
 ical, vague, 163-164; in Heli- 
 odorus and Achilles Tatius 
 used mostly to instruct or 
 entertain, but occasionally to 
 produce real background, 
 164-167; in Longus, relevant 
 and intrinsically beautiful, 
 166-167. Descriptive, excess 
 of, a fault of Greek Romance, 
 168; least offensive in Lon- 
 gus, ibid.; his pictorial treat- 
 ment of incidents, ibid.; 
 wide range of sensuous 
 imagery, 168-169, 242, 244; 
 moderation, 169, 199; rich- 
 ness in simplicity, 169, 242; 
 Achilles Tatius's excess of 
 description a rhetorical 
 showpiece, 169-171; Europa, 
 painting of, 171-173; irrele- 
 vancy of word-paintings, 173- 
 176; exceptions have broader 
 range of imagery and form 
 part of narrative, 174-175. 
 Heliodorus's spectacles rele- 
 vant, 176, 181; almost omits 
 Ex^paoris, 177; his "pathetic 
 optics," 177-179. 184, 189; 
 " hieratic epiphany," 179-180, 
 188-189; theatrical concep- 
 tion and terminology, 181- 
 184, 189; spectacular en- 
 semble-scenes, 184-189 
 
 Structure, 192-220: Helio- 
 dorus's epic plan, 192; invo- 
 lution, 193-194, 198; effects 
 of theatrical conception, 194- 
 195. 197. 198 n. 67; complica- 
 tion, 195, 198; loose threads, 
 195; obscure time-arrange- 
 ment, 195; irrelevancy, 195- 
 196; dramatic retardation, 
 suspense, interpolation, 197- 
 198. Longus's plain time- 
 
 scheme; lack of involution, 
 complication, retardation, or 
 suspense; episodes; modera- 
 tion; 199. Achilles Tatius's 
 story told by hero, 199; who 
 inconsistently assumes omnis- 
 cience, 199-200; dramatic 
 choice of persons to convey in- 
 formation, 200; time-arrange- 
 ment chronological, free from 
 epic conventions, and de- 
 tailed, 200-201; suspense, 
 201, 202; irrelevancies, 201- 
 210: of Plot, 202-206; of 
 Characterization, 206; of Set- 
 ting, 206-207; of Science 
 and Pseudo-Science, 207-210. 
 (And see Structure, Narra- 
 tive) 
 
 Paradox, 210-221: irrele- 
 vancy and, two phases of 
 the unexpected, 210; sought 
 consciously, 21 1-2 13; irony, 
 213-217; antithetical situa- 
 tions, 217-221: bridal and 
 burial, 217-218; land and 
 water, 218-220, 221; water 
 and fire, 218 n. 79; living 
 tomb, 220 
 
 Style, 217-235: antithesis 
 in situation itself, 217-220; 
 artificial antithesis, largely 
 verbal, 221-235: antithesis 
 and oxymoron, 221-229; bal- 
 ance, 222, 229-231; home- 
 ophony, 231-233; expresses 
 base view of life and litera- 
 ture, 235. (And see Antithe- 
 sis; Rhetoric) 
 
 Spectacular heroics, 190- 
 191 
 
 Lack of spirituality, 190- 
 191. 235 
 Greene, Robert, 172 n. 45, 
 239, 240, 247, 367-458: versa- 
 tility and timeliness, 367-368, 
 375; variety of his sources, 
 367-375: Euphues, 367, 369, 
 375; Sidney's Arcadia, 367- 
 368, 375. 406, 415, 416, 430. 
 432, 440, 443-445. 456, 457J 
 pastoral, 368, 375. 376, 386 n. 
 30; mediaeval survivals, 368- 
 
INDEX 
 
 5*5 
 
 369. 373 5 novella, 369-375: 
 adapted to Greene's powers, 
 
 370. Greene incapable of more 
 elaborate forms of plot, 381 
 407; borrows from Boc 
 caccio novelle which are all 
 probably from lost Greek Ro 
 mances, 370-375: Decam. II, 
 6 {Perimedes, first tale), 370- 
 372; Decam. V. 2 {Perimedes 
 second tale), 372-373; De 
 cam. V. I {Tullies Loue 
 episode of Fabius and Ter 
 entia), 373~374 
 
 Affinity to Greek Romance 
 pastoral tendency, love of 
 pure plot, weak sense of mo 
 tive and causal nexus, depen 
 dence upon Fortune, love o: 
 garish stylistic ornament, o: 
 ensemble scenes, of oratory 
 of pathos and " pathetic op' 
 tics," 37s 
 
 Special affinity to Achilles 
 Tatius, 376-393: Greene fond 
 of antithesis and paradox, 
 376-377» 380-381; which are 
 his only means of character- 
 ization, 376-377; not inter- 
 ested in character, 377, 407; 
 "conflicting emotions," 
 rivalry, " Wit and Will," 
 " Virtue and Fortune," etc., 
 377; homeophony, 377-379 5 
 inconsistencies in frame-tale 
 narrated in first person, 379, 
 393; fondness for set 
 speeches, 379-380. Fortune, 
 uses of, 380-392: produces 
 antithetical situations, 380- 
 381; Greene enslaved to, 375, 
 381-384; lues fortunae, or 
 tychomania, 381, 384, 407, 
 411, 457; incapacitates him 
 for sustained plot, or for 
 consistent characterization, 
 381, 407; credited with 
 plain effects of human ac- 
 tion, 381; and the "gifts 
 of Nature," 382; Fortune as 
 a cliche", 382-383; Fortune 
 coupled with other agencies 
 
 (Fate, the Gods, etc.) in 
 " drag-net " formulae, 383, 
 389; Fortune as empty form- 
 ula, 383-384; but sometimes 
 used imaginatively, as a vera 
 causa, ibid.; the mistress 
 of the plot, 387-392; sub- 
 stituted for B o c c a c c i o's 
 natural causes {Decam. II. 
 6) to bring about peripeteia 
 in Perimedes, first tale, 388- 
 389; conducts shipwreck, 
 etc., 389-390, 392; ironical, 
 389-390; turns to good, 391; 
 brings about " moment of 
 last suspense " in Pandosto, 
 391-392; sometimes used in- 
 tellectually, as a subject of 
 discussion 384-386: its rela- 
 tion to other non-human 
 forces (Fate, Providence, 
 etc.), 384; relation to man 
 (Fortune and Nature, For- 
 tune and Virtu), 385-386; 
 sometimes personified, 387 & 
 n. 31 (Wheel), 401-402 n. 37 
 Borrowings from Achilles 
 Tatius, 393-408, 457: Ar- 
 basto, frame and beginning, 
 393-395. 407, 456. Carde of 
 Fancie, names, invective 
 against women, " the Sicilian 
 spring," 395-398; soliloquy, 
 tirade, double wedding, 404; 
 456. Morando, names, 396; 
 picture of Europa, 399-401; 
 picture of Andromeda, 402, 
 
 404, 456. But Greene's vis- 
 ual imagination too weak to 
 be stimulated even by Achil- 
 les Tatius, 403, 407, 457. 
 Alcida, conflicting emotions, 
 
 405. Pandosto, brutal court- 
 ship, 405, 451, 452. Philo- 
 mela, commitment to Fortune, 
 389, 405; denouement, 405- 
 406; 456. Groatsworth, in- 
 terchange of fables, 406-407, 
 457 
 
 Relations to Heliodorus, 
 375, 408-432. 444-446, 451- 
 452, 456-457: spectacular en- 
 
5 i6 
 
 INDEX 
 
 semble-scene3, 375, 376. 402, 
 
 408, 417-422, 446; oratory, 
 375. 379-38o, 418; "pathetic 
 optics," 375, 419 & n. 50, 445; 
 pathos, 375, 417-422, 446; 
 suffering heroine, 408, 411- 
 412; oracles, 408, 410, 420- 
 424, 428, 432, 443-444, 446, 
 452, 457; recognition, 408, 
 410, 418, 427-428, 445. 452; 
 allusions to Theagenes and 
 Chariclea, 408-409; astrology, 
 
 409. Heliodorean uses of 
 Fortune: Fortune, associated 
 with oracle, exposure, & res- 
 toration, brings about ship- 
 wreck, 410, 444, 451; makes 
 theatrical situations, 410-41 1, 
 422; under control of the 
 gods, 423; exposed child com- 
 mitted to, 425, 444, 446. Suf- 
 fering and dissembling types 
 of character, 411-413; minor 
 incidents, 413-417. Major 
 borrowings, 417-432: denoue- 
 ment of Carde of Fancie, 
 417-418; denouement of Tal- 
 lies Love, 418; denouement 
 of Philomela, 418-419, 456; 
 trial-scene in Pandosto, 420- 
 422, 446, 452; oracle in Pan- 
 dosto and Menaphon, 420- 
 424, 428, 432, 443-445, 446; 
 exposure, etc., in Pandosto 
 and Menaphon, 424-428, 444, 
 446, 451; moment of last sus- 
 pense, and denouement, in 
 Pandosto and Menaphon, 
 426-429,445, 452; absurdities 
 resulting from blind imita- 
 tion of Heliodorus, 428, 430- 
 432, 456; influence of Helio- 
 dorus structural, 408, 428- 
 429, 444, 452, 456 
 
 Relations to Longus, 375, 
 432-439. 444. 445. 446-450 
 (Table, 448-450), 452-457; 
 love of pastoral, 375; em- 
 ployment of pastoral as epi- 
 sode in urban story, 432-433; 
 ridicule of rusticity, 433-434, 
 445. Uses of Fortune: For- 
 
 tune and the pastoral, 435; 
 Fortune and Love, 435-438, 
 444. Direct borrowings, 
 (Menaphon) 438-439. (Pan- 
 dosto) 446-450, 452-457 
 
 Relations to Shakespeare 
 (Winter's Tale, Pandosto); 
 see Shakespeare 
 
 Chronological development 
 of influence of Greek Ro- 
 mances upon, 456-457; small 
 effect upon Greene as literary 
 artist, 457, 461; insignificant 
 contribution of Greek Ro- 
 mance to English novel 
 through Greene, 457-458; fic- 
 tion moving away from no- 
 vella, in which Greene was 
 skilful, towards romance, 
 which he could never com- 
 pass, 462; decline of his 
 vogue, 462 
 
 Alcida, 377 n. 14, 383 n. 
 26, 386 n. 30, 387 n. 31, 389; 
 borrowings from Clitophon 
 and Leucippe, 398, 405; 409, 
 413-414, 436 nn. 60 & 61, 
 437 nn. 62 & 64, 438 n. 65 
 
 Arbasto, 368 n. 4, 378 n. 
 18, 379, 381 n. 23, 383 n. 25, 
 386 n. 30, 387 n. 31; paral- 
 leled with Clitophon and 
 Leucippe, 393-395 5 date of 
 publication, 395, 404; 399, 
 407, 409, 411 n. 42, 412 n. 
 46, 437 nn. 62 & 64. 456 
 
 Black Bookes Messenger, 
 367, 377 n. 15 
 
 Carde of Fancie, 367, 368 
 n. 4, 369 n. 5, 373 «• ", 
 374 n. 13, 377 n. 14,378,379. 
 381 n. 23, 383 n. 25, 384 n. 
 28, 385 n. 29, 386 n. 30, 387 
 n. 31, 388, 391; borrowings 
 from Clitophon and Leucippe, 
 395-398, 404; date of publi- 
 cation, 395, 404; 411 nn. 41 
 & 42, 414, 416-418 & n. 49, 
 430 n. 53, 436 nn. 60 & 61, 
 437 n. 62, 438 n. 65, 456 
 
 Conny catching, Second 
 Part, 386 n. 30 
 
INDEX 
 
 517 
 
 Connycatching Series, 367 
 
 Debate between Folly and 
 Love, 369 n. 7, 416 n. 49, 
 437 n. 64 
 
 Disputation between a Hee- 
 Connycatcher and a Shee- 
 Connycatcher, 381 n. 23 
 
 Euphues his Censure to j 
 Philautus, 369 n. 8, 377 n. 
 17, 380, 383 n. 25, 384 n. 28, 
 385 n. 29, 386 n. 30, 387 n. 
 3i, 389. 39o, 412 n. 45, 436 
 & n. 60, 437 n. 62 
 
 Farewell to Folly, 369 n. 8, 
 377 nn. 15, 16, 380, 384 n. 
 27, 38s n. 29, 386 n. 30, 387 
 n. 31, 411 n. 42, 434, 43s & 
 n. 58 
 
 Francescos Fortunes, 368 
 n. 2, 369 n. 10, 377 n. 15, 
 385 n. 29, 390, 411 n. 42, 
 412 n. 44, 420, 434, 436 n. 
 60 
 
 Groatsworth of Wit, 370 
 n. 11, 412 n. 44; probable 
 borrowing from Achilles Ta- 
 tius, 406-407, 457 
 
 Mamillia, 367, 369 n. 6, 
 377 n- 15, 383 n. 25, 385 n. 
 29, 386 n. 30, 387 n. 31, 408- 
 
 409, 411 n. 42, 412 nn. 44 
 & 46, 416 n. 49; motivation, 
 429-430 
 
 Menaphon, 368, 376, 384 
 nn. 27 & 28, 386 n. 30, 391, 
 402 n. 39, 411 n. 42, 414, 
 435 & n. 58, 438 n. 65; analy- 
 sis, 440-442; relation to Pan- 
 dosto, 456; relation to Helio- 
 dorus, 410, 412 n. 43, 415, 
 419 n. 50, 420 n. 50a, 422- 
 428, 444-445, 456; relation to 
 Longus, 434-436, (direct bor- 
 rowing) 438-439, 444-445 5 
 relation to Sidney's Arcadia, 
 
 410, 440, 443-444, 445, 456; 
 relation to Warner's Albions 
 England, 440, 442-443, 445; 
 absurd motivation, structure, 
 etc., 430-432, 435, 456 
 
 Mirrour of Modestie, 369 
 n. io, 420 
 
 Morando, 369 n. 8, 374 11. 
 13, 381 n. 22, 383 n. 26, 384, 
 385 n. 29, 386 n. 30, 387 n. 
 31, 393 n. 34; date of pub- 
 lication, 395, 404; borrow- 
 ings from Clitophon and 
 Leucippe, 396, 399-402, 404; 
 409, 437 n. 62, 438 n. 65, 
 456 
 
 Mourning Garment, 369 
 nn. 8 & 9, 377 nn. 15 & 16, 
 
 385 n. 29, 386 n. 30, 412 n. 
 44, 434, 436 n. 60, 438 n. 65 
 
 Never too Late, 381 n. 23, 
 
 386 n. 30, 398, 411 nn. 41 & 
 42, 412 n. 44, 436 n. 60 
 
 Notable Discovery of Coos- 
 nage, 377 n. 15 
 
 Orpharion, 369 n. 5, 383 n. 
 26, 386 n. 30, 411 n. 42, 436 
 n. 60, 437 n. 62, 438 n. 65 
 
 Pandosto, 383 n. 25, 384 n. 
 28, 386 n. 30, 387 n. 31, 391- 
 392, 414, 431 n. 54, 435 n. 58, 
 436 n. 60, 437 n. 62. Con- 
 tains Greene's first pastoral, 
 433. Source of The Win- 
 ter's Tale, 376, 445-446, 
 (Table) 448-450; but Shakes- 
 peare probably went behind 
 Pandosto and directly to 
 Day's Daphnis and Chloe, 
 for some important material, 
 452-455- Employment of 
 Fortune, largely rejected by 
 Shakespeare, 453-456. Ex- 
 hibits with greatest fulness 
 the influence of the Greek 
 Romances, 376, 432, 456. 
 Imitated in Menaphon, 456. 
 Relations to Achilles Tatius, 
 376, 405, 451, 456. Rela- 
 tions to Heliodorus, 410, 411 
 & n. 42, 412 n. 46, 420-426, 
 446, 451-452, 456. Rela- 
 tions to Longus, 433, 435, 
 445-450 (Table, 448-450), 
 452-457. Motivation, 426 n. 
 5i, 454 
 
 Penelopes Web, 369 n. 8, 
 379, 381 n. 22, 382 n. 24, 
 383 n- 25, 384 n. 28, 386 n. 
 
5«8 
 
 INDEX 
 
 30, 39°, 411 n. 42, 4" n. 44, 
 416 n. 49, 435 n. 58 
 
 Perimedes the Black Smith, 
 369 n. 8; first tale, from 
 Boccaccio, Decam. II. 6, 
 370-372; second tale, from 
 Boccaccio, Decam. V. 2, 372- 
 373; both of which are prob- 
 ably from lost Greek Ro- 
 mances, 370-373; 380, 384 n. 
 28, 386 n. 30, 387 n. 31, 388- 
 389, 390, 410-411, 411 n. 
 42, 414, 435 n. 58, 436 n. 60, 
 437 n. 62 
 
 Philomela, 368, 377 n. 14, 
 380, 381 n. 23, 386 n. 30, 
 388, 389, 39o; borrowings 
 from Achilles Tatius, 389, 
 405-406; from Sidney, 406, 
 415; from Heliodorus, 411 
 & n. 42, 414-415, 418-420, 
 422, 435 n. 58, 436 n. 60, 
 437, n. 62, 438 n. 65, 456 
 
 Planetomachia, 369 n. 7, 
 378, 381 n. 23, 384 n. 28, 
 386 n. 30, 388, 409, 411 n. 
 42, 412 nn. 43 & 45, 414, 415- 
 416 & n. 49, 430 n. 53, 436, 
 437 n- 62 
 
 Quip for an Upstart Court- 
 ier, 369 n. 5 
 Royal Exchange, 435 
 Spanish Masquerado, 386 
 n. 30 
 
 Tullies Love, 368 n. 3; 
 episode of Fabius and Ter- 
 entia from Boccaccio, Decam. 
 V. i, which is probably from 
 lost Greek Romance, 370, 
 373-375; 377 n. 16, 380, 384 
 n. 28, 386 n. 30, 414, 418, 
 436 n. 60, 437, 438 n. 65 
 
 Vision, 369 n. 5, 370 n. 
 
 11, 385 n. 29, 411 n. 42, 434 
 
 Grimm, Wilhelm, 248, 251-252, 
 
 256 
 Grosart, A. B., 395 
 Guarini, Pastor Fido, 433 
 Guillaume le Clerc, 209 n. 75 
 
 Helbig, Wolfgang, 172 n. 42 
 Heliodorus, JEthiopica, 1, 7; 
 editions and translations. 
 
 8, 237-239, 375-376. Analy- 
 sis, 11-28. Main plot con- 
 trolled by Providence, 111- 
 117, 126, 188; priests, oracles, 
 etc., in, m-113; episodes 
 and minor incidents con- 
 trolled by Fortune, 113-115. 
 Love, sensual, 127; dignified 
 by genuine chastity, 127-128; 
 still, not a spiritual relation 
 so much as an abstention 
 from a carnal relation, 128- 
 
 9. Affinity to tragedy and 
 epic, 116-117, 157, 181-184, 
 189, 192 
 
 Character, often cowardly 
 or deceitful, 139-141; falsely 
 motived because of love of 
 paradox, 141; sometimes dis- 
 placed by pathos, 144; of 
 Theagenes, 150-151; of 
 Chariclea, 1 51-152. Humor, 
 mostly in episodes, weak, 
 largely verbal, 158-159, 162 
 
 Setting, historical, vague, 
 163; geographical, inaccurate 
 and non-essential, generally 
 lacks local color, and is em- 
 ployed to instruct or enter- 
 tain, but occasionally pro- 
 duces real background, 164- 
 167; descriptive, 176-191: 
 spectacles relevant, 176, 181; 
 almost omits €K<f>pa<ri<;, 177; 
 "pathetic optics," 177-179, 
 184, 189; "hieratic epiph- 
 any," 179-180, 188-189; the- 
 atrical conception and ter- 
 minology, 181-184, 189; spec- 
 tacular ensemble-scenes, 184- 
 189; spectacular heroics, 190- 
 191; lack of spirituality, 190- 
 191 
 
 Narrative structure, 192- 
 198: epic plan, 192; compli- 
 cation, 195, 198; involution, 
 193-194, 198; effects of the- 
 atrical conception, 194-195, 
 197 & n. 65, 198 n. 67; 
 loose threads, 195; obscure 
 time-arrangement, ibid., ir- 
 relevancy, 195-196, aoi; dra- 
 
INDEX 
 
 519 
 
 matic retardation, interpola- 
 tion, suspense, 197-198 
 
 Pseudo-science, 195, 208- 
 209. Paradox, 21 1-2 13. 
 Irony, 214-215. Antitheses: 
 see Antithesis 
 
 Style, less artificial than 
 that of Achilles Tatius or 
 Longus, 222 n. 81 
 
 Heptameron, 353 n. 34 
 
 Heraclitus, 234 
 
 Herford, C. H., 432 n. 56 
 
 Herodotus, 7, 415 n. 47 
 
 Heroics, Spectacular, 150, 190- 
 191. 315 
 
 Heroine, Suffering, (Helio- 
 dorus, Greene) 408, 411-412 
 
 Hieratic Element, in Helio- 
 dorus, pervades main plot, 
 111-113; 428, 445; in Achil- 
 les Tatius, confined to epi- 
 sode, 117; in Greene, 422, 
 427-428, 445; and see " Hier- 
 atic Epiphany " 
 
 " Hieratic Epiphany," 179-180, 
 188-189 
 
 Hippocrates, 234 
 
 Hippolytus, 413, 416 
 
 Historic Background, etc. See 
 Setting 
 
 " Homeophony," 231-234, 378- 
 379 
 
 Homer, 117; Iliad, 7, 158, 170; 
 Odyssey, 158, 161, 170, 193 
 
 Horace, 172 
 
 Howard, W. G., 171 n. 41 
 
 Howell, Thomas, 343-344 
 
 Humor, in Greek Romances, 
 I54-I5S; 157-162: realism 
 and, 157-158; Heliodorus's, 
 mostly in episodes, weak, 
 largely verbal, 158-159, 162; 
 Achilles Tatius's, realistic, 
 strong, often masterly, in- 
 herent in situation, 160-162; 
 Longus's, pervasive, 162; 
 Sidney's not influenced by 
 Greek Romance, 308, 330- 
 334 
 
 Hunt, drives goats (Longus) 
 125, 372, (Boccaccio) 371- 
 372, 388; motif not in 
 
 Greene, probably borrowed 
 directly by Shakespeare 
 (Winter's Tale) from Day, 
 452-455 
 Huon of Bordeaux, 368, 373 
 Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, see 
 Colonna, Francesco 
 
 Iamblichus, Babylonica, or Rho- 
 danes and Sinonis, 8, 164 n. 
 36, 205 n. 72, 254, 357 n« 36, 
 373 
 
 Idyll, 3. 168 n. 37, 244 
 
 Illusion, 191, 408, 464 
 
 Imagery, Sensuous, Range of, 
 see Description 
 
 Imprisonment together of lov- 
 ers or friends, (Heliodorus, 
 Sidney) 3"-3"» (Helio- 
 dorus, Greene) 426, 445 
 
 Interpolation, 197, 198, 202, 
 350 
 
 Inversion, 193-194. 198-199, 
 351-352 
 
 Involution, see Inversion 
 
 Irony, in oracle, 112; as a 
 species of paradox, 213-217; 
 dramatic, 214; in Heliodorus, 
 214-215; in Longus, 215; in 
 Achilles Tatius, 216-217; 
 omitted by Day, 245; in Sid- 
 ney, 321; in Greene, 389- 
 39o 
 
 Irrelevancy, 6, 166, 168, 173 n. 
 46, 174, 175, i77> 196 n. 64, 
 198. In Achilles Tatius, 201- 
 210: of Plot, 202-206; of 
 Characterization, 206; of Set- 
 ting, 206-207; of Science and 
 Pseudo-Science, 207-210. Ir- 
 relevancy and paradox, two 
 phases of the Unexpected, 
 210. Significant of a base 
 view of life, 234-235. Al- 
 most absent in Sidney, 350 n. 
 32 
 
 Jacobs, Friedrich, 130 n. 13, 
 149 n. 28, 157 n. 32, 197 n « 
 65. 237 n. 3, 241 n. 11 
 
 Jacobs, Joseph, 239 n. 7, 241 
 nn. 10 & 12 
 
5 2 ° 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Jahn, Otto, 172 n. 42 
 Johannes Secundus, 134 
 Jonson, Ben, 134 n. 18, 240 
 n. 8 
 
 Kerlin, Robert T., 463 n. 2 
 Kiss, worship of, 134-135 
 Koeppel, Emil, 344, 370 n. 
 
 11a 
 Koerting, H. K. O., 120 n. 4, 
 
 128 n. 10, 237 n. 3 
 
 La Fontaine, 130 n. 12 
 
 Land and Water, see Antithesis 
 
 Landau, Marcus, 251 n. 2, 372 
 
 Lang, Andrew, 6 n. 5, 170 
 n. 40 
 
 Lapidaries, 208 
 
 Lauchert, Friedrich, 209 n. 75 
 
 Law, 6, 7, 8, 235, 464 
 
 Lee, A. Collingwood, 251 n. 2 
 
 Lee, Sidney, 377 n. 15 
 
 Lenglet du Fresnoy, Nicolas, 
 273 n. 3, 246 nn. 23, 26, 27 
 
 Lessing, 176 
 
 Living Tomb, see Antithesis 
 
 Lodge, Thomas, 239, 247, 433; 
 allusions to Heliodorus the 
 only evidence of influence of 
 Greek Romances, 459-460; 
 461 
 
 Longinus, 157-158, 161, 220 
 
 Longus, Daphnis and Chloe, 
 7, 8. Editions and transla- 
 tions, 8, 239-240, 375-376; 
 Amyot's and Day's versions, 
 see Amyot; Day. Analysis, 
 29-42 
 
 Plot controlled by Eros, 
 121; decreed to be a pastoral, 
 ibid.; but from urban point 
 of view, 122; employs appa- 
 ratus of tragedy, ibid.; ridi- 
 cules rusticity, ibid.; urban 
 "enveloping action," 123; 
 pastoral as interlude in urban 
 story, ibid.; control of For- 
 tune minimized by absence of 
 travel and adventure, and by 
 control of Eros, 124; sway of 
 causation resumed, 124-126. 
 Love frankly sensual, 128, 
 
 130; tempered by innocence 
 of children and by charm of 
 country-life, 130-131; instruc- 
 tion in, 136; sophisticated 
 treatment of pastoral, 122- 
 123; of love, 130-131. Inci- 
 dent of the hunt, borrowed 
 by Shakespeare, 125, 453- 
 455 
 
 Character, cowardly, 139; 
 mendacious, 141; partly dis- 
 placed by rhetorical display 
 of sentimentality, 144. Hu- 
 mor, pervasive, 162 
 
 Setting, in time, undefined, 
 163; geographical, though 
 defined, lacks " local color," 
 ibid.; but relevant and in- 
 trinsically beautiful, 166-167; 
 description, excessive, a fault 
 of Greek Romances, least of- 
 fensive in Longus, 168; his 
 pictorial treatment of inci- 
 dents, ibid.; wide range of 
 sensuous imagery, 168-169, 
 242, 244; moderation, 169, 
 199; richness in simplicity, 
 169, 242; restraint, 176 
 
 Narrative structure, simple, 
 199. Paradox, 211. Irony, 
 215. Style, artificial, 222 n. 
 81; artificially simple, 232 n. 
 86. Theatrical conception and 
 terminology, 183 n. 55. Spec- 
 tacular heroics, 190-191. 
 Lack of spirituality, ibid. 
 Love, in Greek Romances, 127- 
 137: sensual, but dignified by 
 chastity, 127; genuinely in 
 Heliodorus, 127-129; super- 
 ficially in Achilles Tatius, 
 129-130; not at all in Longus, 
 130-13 1. A genuine attach- 
 ment, emancipating women, 
 yet not noble per se, 131-132. 
 Anticipations of later treat- 
 ment of love, 134-137; the 
 Kiss, 134-135; spirit-theory 
 and image-theory, 135; code, 
 136. In Heliodorus not a 
 spiritual relation so much as 
 abstention from a sensual 
 
INDEX 
 
 521 
 
 relation, 128. In Longus, 
 love, instead of Fortune, con- 
 trols plot, 121, 433-436; 
 frankly sensual, 128, 130; to 
 be taught to reader, 136. In 
 Achilles Tatius, exceptionally 
 noble in episode of Callis- 
 thenes and Calligone, 132. 
 In Greene, closely associated 
 with Fortune, 436; like For- 
 tune, brings about bizarre 
 situations, 437-438; miscel- 
 laneous similarities to Greek 
 Romance, 438 n. 65. Trans- 
 formation of character by, 
 132, 373-374, 438 n. 65. Pla- 
 tonic love-doctrine, parodied, 
 133-134; traces of, 134 n. 17. 
 Fortune and, 374, 380, 436- 
 438, 444 
 Lucian, 170, 172 
 " Lues Fortunae" ; see Fortune 
 Lyly, John, 239, 247, 248-261: 
 Campaspe, Mother Bombie, 
 Gallathea, affected by Helio- 
 dorus and Achilles Tatius, 
 248 n. 1. Style of Euphues 
 possibly affected by style of 
 Achilles Tatius, 248 n. 1, 
 256 "• 3 
 
 Euphues probably derived 
 mediately from lost Greek 
 Romance, 248-261, 370; de- 
 rived directly from Boccac- 
 cio's Tito and Gisippo, 248- 
 250, 255. Tito and Gisippo 
 derived from Athis et Pro- 
 philias, 248, 250-251, 255, 
 258-261 (Table); or directly 
 from lost Greek Romance, 
 248, 250, 252-253, 256. Athis 
 et Prophilias probably de- 
 rived from lost Greek Ro- 
 mance, 248, 251-252, 256. 
 Goldsmith may have used 
 this lost Greek Romance, 
 253-256, 258-261 (Table). 
 Popularity of Euphues 
 shorter-lived than that of 
 Arcadia, 462. Allusion to 
 Rhodope, 416 n. 49. " Con- 
 trarieties," 437 n. 63. Gen- 
 
 eral influence of Greek Ro- 
 mance upon, 461. Artic- 
 ulation of material in, see 
 Articulation of Plot 
 
 Machiavelli, 326, 412, 429 
 
 Maffei, Scipione, 172 n. 45 
 
 Mahaffy, J. P., 170 n. 40 
 
 Marino, 134, 172 n. 45, 224 n. 
 82 
 
 Marriage and Death, see An- 
 tithesis 
 
 Menendez y Pelayo, Marcelino, 
 131 
 
 Milesian Tales, 462 
 
 Misogyny, 133, 162, 333-334, 
 396-398, 4" & n- 42 
 
 Moliere, 160 
 
 Moody, William Vaughn, 311 
 n. 3, 318 n. 7 
 
 Moschus, 170, 172 
 
 Motivation, falsified by love of 
 paradox, 141; perverted, 148; 
 of Chariclea, 152 n. 29; of 
 Melitta, 155-156; of pre- 
 tended fellow-prisoner of 
 Clitophon, 156 n. 31. In 
 Greene: Menaphon, 425-426, 
 428, 430-432; Pandosto, 426 
 n. 51, 454; Mamillia, 429-430; 
 generally weak, 458 
 
 Muzio, Girolamo, 172 n. 45 
 
 Mystery Plays, 153 n. 30 
 
 Naber, S. A., 164 
 
 Narration by participant, 193- 
 
 194. 199, 349-350, 351, 353, 
 
 379, 393-395 
 Nash, Thomas, 247, 335 n. 18, 
 
 367 ; not influenced by Greek 
 
 Romances, 459, 461 
 Nicetas Eugenianus, Charicles 
 
 and Drosilla, 10 
 Nicolaus Pergamenus, 258-261 
 Ninus- fragment, 8, 163 n. 65 
 Nonnus, 172 
 Norden, Eduard, 218 n. 79, 220 
 
 n. 80, 222 n. 81, 234 n. 87 
 Novel, English, receives from 
 
 Greek Romances nothing 
 
 through Greene, 457-458 
 English fiction develops to- 
 
522 
 
 INDEX 
 
 wards, away from novella, 
 by way of romance, 462; sus- 
 tained complex form of, may 
 be partly the gift of Greek 
 Romance, by way of French 
 Romances and of Sidney's 
 Arcadia, 462-464 
 Novella, Ionic, 1. In Achilles 
 Tatius, 117; Callisthenes and 
 Calligone, 132-133. 201, 372, 
 374. In Heliodorus, Cnemon, 
 133, 195. 201, 313, 319-320, 
 416 & n. 48. In Greene, fre- 
 quent, 369-375; falls well 
 within his powers, 369-37° *» 
 Boccaccio's novelle borrowed 
 by Greene, all probably from 
 lost Greek romances, 370- 
 375; Greene's subjection to 
 Fortune keeps his plot in no- 
 vella-form, 381; Greene in- 
 capable of sustaining plot be- 
 yond novella-length, 407; 
 The Farmer Bridegroom, 
 416 n. 48; Greene assimi- 
 lated the novella-form, 370, 
 457, 462. Boccaccio's, see 
 Boccaccio. Fortini's, 161. 
 Of the Renaissance, 149, 156, 
 *57. 319-320, 370, 457; its 
 success and decline in Eng- 
 lish literature, 462; does not 
 evolve into romance, ibid. 
 
 Oeftering, Michael, 187 n. 56, 
 192 n. 59, 238 n. 5, 313 n. 4, 
 433 n. 57 
 
 Opsopoeus, Vincentius, ed. 
 princ. of Heliodorus, 8, 237 
 
 "Optics, Pathetic"; see "Pa- 
 thetic Optics" 
 
 Oracle, in Heliodorus, 112, 
 113, 114, 127, 188, 410, 428, 
 443-445. 446, 457. In Achil- 
 les Tatius, 117. In Sidney, 
 307, 319-321, 323. 347. 348, 
 352, 443-444. In Greene, 
 408, 410, 420-424, 428, 432, 
 443-445. 446, 457- In 
 
 Guarini, 433. In Winter's 
 Tale, 452 
 
 Oratory, 6, 196 n. 64, 205, 254- 
 
 255. 354-355. 375. 379~38o, 
 
 418 
 Overbeck, J. A., 171 n. 41 
 Ovid, 1, 134 n. 18, 136, 170, 
 
 172, 220, 366 additional note, 
 
 413 
 
 Oxymoron, distinguished from 
 Antithesis, 221-222; once gen- 
 uine expression of philosophic 
 dualism, in Greek Romances 
 mere artifice, 234; in Sidney, 
 354, 357,365 n. 38 ; in Greeene, 
 380-381, 437-438 
 
 Painting, Alexandrian, 170; lit- 
 erature and, 170-176; 334- 
 
 335 
 Paradox, 5 ; love of, falsifies mo- 
 tivation, 140-141; irrelevancy 
 and, two phases of the un- 
 expected, 210 ; sought con- 
 sciously, 211; brought about 
 by Fortune, 211-212; 214- 
 215; 357 & n. 35, 358; 
 irony a species of, 213, 307, 
 319-320, 376-377, 380-381, 
 398-399, 423-424. 431-432, 
 443 
 Parallel Structure, 5, 222, 
 
 229-231 
 Paratactic Structure, 232 n. 86 
 Paris, Gaston, 248, 252, 256 
 Passow, F. L. K. F., 149 n. 28 
 Pastoral, in Longus, 121- 124, 
 169, 408, 448-450 (Table). 
 In Heliodorus, 122, 446. 
 Achilles Tatius lacks, 122. 
 In Greene, 368, 375, 408, 
 411, 432-435. 438-456. In 
 Lodge, 433, 460. In Winter's 
 Tale, 448-450 (Table), 452. 
 In Tasso, 432-433- In San- 
 nazaro, 433. In Warner, 
 ibid. Urban aspect of, 122- 
 123, 368, 432-434, 460 
 " Pathetic Optics," in Helio- 
 dorus, 177-179, 184, 189; in 
 Sidney, 338-342; in Greene, 
 375, 419 & n. 50, 445 
 " Pathopoieia," 145 
 Pathos, 144, 156, 177-182, 184, 
 186, 189, 242, 249, 250 n. xa, 
 
INDEX 
 
 5 2 3 
 
 25i, 338-342, 375, 417-422, 
 446 
 
 Peripeteia, brought about by 
 Fortune in Greene, 387, 388- 
 389, 446; by natural causes, 
 in Boccaccio, Decant. II. 6, 
 388; by oracle, in Greene, 
 424, 429, 446, (and in Wint- 
 er's Tale) 452 
 
 Petrarchism, 221-222, 354, 437 
 
 Petrus Alphonsus, 251, 258-261 
 
 Pettie, George, 437 n. 63 
 
 Phaedra, see Hippolytus 
 
 Philostratus, 134 n. 18, 170, 
 171 n. 41 
 
 Photius, 8, 357 n- 36, 373 n - I2 
 
 Physiologus, 209 n. 75 
 
 Pindar, 170 
 
 Piracy, 311, 315-316, 322, 371, 
 372, 374, 438-439, 445 
 
 Piscatory Eclogue, 122 
 
 Plato, 133-134 
 
 Pliny, 415 n. 47 
 
 Plot, 6; in Greek Romances, 
 111-137; together with char- 
 acter and setting, tends to 
 degenerate into mere spec- 
 tacle, 191; irrelevancies of, 
 in Achilles Tatius, 202-206. 
 More prominent than charac- 
 ter, in Greek Romances, 137; 
 in Sidney, 328 ; and in novella, 
 369-370; but in novella not 
 complicated, 370. In Lyly's 
 Euphues, articulated as in 
 Tito and Gisippo and Athis 
 et Prophilias, and (probably) 
 as in lost Greek Romance, 
 248-251, 255-256, 258-261. 
 In Sidney, 307-328: material 
 partly from Amadis, 318-320, 
 328; but mostly from Greek 
 Romances, 307-318; and 
 wholly kept within Helio- 
 dorean frame, 307-308, 319- 
 320, 328; because dominated 
 by Providence, 320-323; 
 which manifests itself in 
 oracles, visions, etc., ibid.; 
 greatly reduces the activity 
 of Fortune, 324-328; and 
 uses both Fortune and 
 
 Virtu as its agents, 328. 
 Greene incapable of sus- 
 tained or complicated plot, 370, 
 407, 429, 457; often omits 
 necessary links, 429-432; 
 prevented by his subjection 
 to Fortune from composing 
 any but novella-plots, 381; 
 plot of Pandosto structurally 
 affected by oracle, 422-424; 
 of Menaphon only entangled 
 and retarded by oracle, 423- 
 424. Activity of Providence, 
 111-117, 126, 188, 320-323, 
 328; of Fortune, 11 1, 113-20, 
 123 n. 7, 124, 126, 324-328, 
 383-384, 387-392; of Eros 
 and of love, 121, 126, 127- 
 137; of Causation in Longus, 
 124-126; in Shakespeare 
 (Winter's Tale), 453-456 
 
 Plutarch, 1, 133 n. 16, 209 n. 
 75, 386 n. 30 
 
 Poetzsche, Erich, 463 n. 1 
 
 Poliziano, excerpt from Xeno- 
 phon of Ephesus, 8, 10 n. 1; 
 La Giostra, 172 n. 45, 413; 
 Miscellanea, 8 
 
 Porter, A. T., 246, 481 
 
 Pretended execution, 316-317 
 
 Propertius, 436 n. 59 
 
 Providence, in Heliodorus, con- 
 trols main plot, 111-113, 114, 
 116, 117, 151, 188; in Achil- 
 les Tatius, a minimum, 117, 
 119 n. 2, 120, 132; in Longus, 
 good ascribed to, 123 n. 7; 
 in Sidney, controls plot, 308, 
 320-323, 328; Fortune and, 
 123 n. 7, 137, 383 
 
 Pseudo-science, 135, 167, 195, 
 207-210 
 
 Psychology, 5, 6, 132, 144-145, 
 169, 176, 206, 207, 242, 245, 
 329, 330, 377, 457 
 
 Qui-pro-quo, 133, 3*9, 321, 347. 
 416 
 
 Raphael, 186, 187 
 
 Realism, Comedy and, 157-158; 
 
5H 
 
 INDEX 
 
 in Achilles Tatius, 157, 160- 
 161 
 
 Recognition, in Longus, 121; in 
 Heliodorus, 182, 187, 189, 
 410, 427-428, 445, 452; in 
 Sidney, 308, 309, 342, 347; in 
 Greene, 408, 410, 418, 427- 
 428, 445, 452; in Guarini, 
 433 
 
 Reinach, Salomon, 172 n. 43, 
 436 n. 59 
 
 Reiseroman, 164 n. 36, 255, 311 
 
 Reni, Guido, 172 n. 45 
 
 Repetition, 231-233 
 
 Restoration of Child, in Helio- 
 dorus, 113, 114, 410, 424, 
 427-428, 444, 446, 451-452; 
 in Sidney, 309, 342, 347; in 
 Greene, 371, 372, 410, 423, 
 424, 427-428, 444. 446, 451- 
 452; in Guarini, 433 
 
 Retardation, 197-198, 199, 202, 
 423 
 
 Rhetoric, displays of, 6, 202 
 nn. 70 & 71, 204-207, 354- 
 355; substituted for charac- 
 terization, 143-146, 157; in 
 Melitta, justified, 155, 156; 
 descriptive show-pieces, 169- 
 177: " Europa," 171-173; less 
 excessive in Heliodorus, 176- 
 177, 222 n. 81; in Longus, 
 222 n. 81 
 
 Antithetical situations af- 
 fording opportunity for dis- 
 play of: Banquet and Battle, 
 212-213, 360; Captor serves 
 Captive, 212, 214, 361-362; 
 Native land more dangerous 
 than foreign, 213, 415, 444; 
 Confession of murder of 
 person still alive, 217, 317, 
 319-320, 406, 419; Bridal 
 and Burial, 217-218, 221, 256 
 n. 3; Land and Water, 218, 
 220, 221, 359; Water and 
 Fire, 218 n. 79, 359-360, 398- 
 399; Living Tomb, 220, 361; 
 Dead men the possessors of 
 rich spoil, 358-359 
 
 Artificial and largely 
 verbal devices of, 221-235: 
 
 Antithesis and Oxymoron, 
 221-229, 354. 357 & n- 35, 
 358-366, 376-377; Rivalry, 
 227-228, 377; Conflicting 
 Emotions, 228-229, 256 n. 3, 
 335, 363, 377, 405; Multiple 
 Antithesis, 229; Balance, 222, 
 229-231, 378-379; Homeo- 
 phony, 231-233, 378-379 
 
 In Euphuism, 256 n. 3; in 
 Sidney, 354-366 (see Sidney, 
 Style); in Greene, 376-378: 
 "Wit and Will," "Virtue 
 and Fortune," etc., 377; oc- 
 casion for, furnished by For- 
 tune, 380-381; and by Love, 
 437-438; similar to that of 
 Achilles Tatius, 392. (And 
 see Antithesis; Oratory; 
 Style) 
 Rhodope (Rhodopis), 384 n. 28, 
 412 n. 45, 415-416 & n. 49, 
 436 
 Rhyme, 231-233, 378 
 Richardson, Samuel, 463 
 Rivalry; see Antithesis; Rhet- 
 oric 
 Roderick Random, 161 
 Rohde, Erwin, 163, 164 & n. 
 36, 248, 252-253, 256, 374, 
 462 
 Romances, French, 462, 464; 
 Greek, see Greek Romances; 
 Mediaeval, 153 n. 30, 311, 
 332-333 
 Rusticity ridiculed, 122 n. 6, 
 162, 245, 331-332, 433-434, 
 445 
 
 St. Victor, Hugues de, 209 n. 
 
 75 
 Sainte-Beuve, 170 n. 40 
 Saintsbury, George, 143, 169 
 Salverte, Francois de, 129 n. 
 
 11, 133 n. 16 
 Sandys, J. E., 237 n. 3 
 Sanford, James, 238 n. 5 
 Sannazaro, 334 n. 17, 433 
 Schmid, W., 246 nn. 23 & 24 
 Schwartz, Eduard, 112 n. 1, 
 
 139 n. 22, 179 n. 51 
 
INDEX 
 
 525 
 
 Scott, Sir Walter, 366 addi- 
 tional note, 463 
 Sensuous imagery, range of; 
 
 see Description 
 Sentimentality, 4-6, 242, 245; 
 rhetorical display of, sub- 
 stituted for characterization, 
 143-146 
 Setting, in Greek Romances, 162- 
 192: Historical, vague, 163; 
 Geographical, vague, 163- 
 164; in Heliodorus and Achil- 
 les Tatius used mostly to in- 
 struct or entertain, but occa- 
 sionally to produce real back- 
 ground, 164-167; in Longus, 
 relevant and intrinsically 
 beautiful, 166-167. Descrip- 
 tive, excess of, a fault of 
 Greek Romance, 168; least 
 offensive in Longus, ibid., 
 his pictorial treatment of 
 incidents, ibid.; his wide 
 range of sensuous imagery, 
 168-169, 242, 244; modera- 
 tion, 169, 199; "richness in- 
 simplicity," 169, 242. Achil- 
 les Tatius's excess of descrip- 
 tion, a rhetorical showpiece, 
 169-171; Europa, painting of, 
 1 71-173; irrelevancy of word- 
 paintings, 173-176, 206-207; 
 exceptions have broader range 
 of imagery and form part of 
 narrative, 174-175; failure 
 to distinguish functions of 
 language and of graphic arts, 
 176. Heliodorus's spectacu- 
 lar scenes, relevant, 176, 181; 
 omission of e«i>paat<;, 177; 
 "pathetic optics," I77-I79, 
 184, 189; "hieratic epiphany," 
 179-180, 188-189; theatrical 
 conception and terminology, 
 1 81-184, 189; spectacular en- 
 semble-scenes, 184-189. In 
 At his et Prophilias and Tito 
 and Gisippo, 251. In Sid- 
 ney (g. v.), 334-342. In no- 
 vella, very simple, 370. 
 Greene almost lacks, 370, 
 402, 421, 458; fails when he 
 
 attempts to imitate Helio- 
 dorus's setting, 421, 457 
 
 By means of descriptive 
 Pathos, suggests character, 
 179. Together with plot and 
 character, tends to degene- 
 rate into mere spectacle, 191 
 Shakespeare, King Lear: under- 
 plot of Gloucester and his sons, 
 from Heliodorus, via Sid- 
 ney, 312-313, 366 additional 
 note. Romeo and Juliet: an- 
 titheses, 217 n. 78. As You 
 Like It: pastoral as episode 
 of urban story, 433. The 
 Winter's Tale: chief source, 
 Greene's Pandosto, 376, 408, 
 445-446, (Table) 448-450; 
 uses much that Greene took 
 from Greek Romances, 
 (Table) 448-450, 452; pas- 
 toral as episode of urban story 
 in, 433; probably borrows 
 some pastoral details directly 
 from Day's version of Daph- 
 nis and Chloe, 452; borrows 
 directly from Daphnis and 
 Chloe, probably in Day's ver- 
 sion, the incident of the 
 Hunt, 125, 452-455; largely 
 rejects the agency of For- 
 tune in Pandosto, and sub- 
 stitutes causation and human 
 motive, 453-456; 39* n - 32, 
 458 
 Shipwreck, 113, 308, 311, 322, 
 389, 392, 393, 409-410, 415, 
 444, 451 
 Sidney, Sir Philip, 239, 240, 
 247, 262-366. JEthiopica al- 
 luded to in Apologie for 
 Poetrie, 308 n. ia. Mss. of 
 the " Old " Arcadia (" Clif- 
 ford " and " Ashburnham " 
 Mss.), 345; notes and tran- 
 scripts from, 470-476. Atti- 
 tude toward Greek Romance 
 both assimilative and con- 
 structive, 461 
 
 Arcadia, long popularity 
 of, 462; influence upon Rich- 
 ardson and Scott, 463; may 
 
526 
 
 INDEX 
 
 have helped to transmit from 
 Greek Romance to English 
 novel the gift of sustained 
 complex form, 462-464. An- 
 alysis, 262-307 
 
 Plot, 307-328: grandiose 
 framework from Heliodorus, 
 307-308, 319-320, 328, 366. 
 Incidents from Greek Ro- 
 mance: shipwreck, 308, 311; 
 "Ero s-M o t i v," 308-309 ; 
 elopement under vow of 
 chastity to be observed until 
 entry into kingdom, 309, 319- 
 320. Denouement: father 
 condemns child, recognition 
 effected by deus ex machina, 
 309; self-accusation of mur- 
 der of person alive and pres- 
 ent in court, 317, 319-320; 
 multiplicity of charges 
 against hero gives exordium 
 to prosecutor's invective, 317- 
 318. Banished nobleman 
 heads outlaws, 310; soliloquy 
 overheard causes fright in 
 the dark, 310; " Reiseroman," 
 with shipwreck, piracy, and 
 imprisonment, 311. Episode 
 of "The Captivity"; imprison- 
 ment by lover who tries to 
 force compliance; dissimula- 
 tion refused; 31 1-3 12. Epi- 
 sode of "The Paphlagonica": 
 father, good son, and bad son 
 (Althiopica ; Arcadia; under- 
 plot of Gloucester and his 
 sons in King Lear), 312-313, 
 366 additional note. Epi- 
 sode of " Plangus and 
 Andromana," compounded of 
 Heliodorus's stories of Ar- 
 sace and Demaeneta, 313-314, 
 348-349, 473-474; Gynecia 
 derived from Melitta, 314; 
 Pyrocles feeds upon the sight 
 of Philoclea, 314-315; rides 
 the waves like Clinias, 315; 
 rescue (of Pyrocles, of Leu- 
 cippe) abandoned at approach 
 of pirate ship, 315; brutal 
 caress (of Anaxius, of Ther- 
 
 sander) sharply reproved, 
 316; pretended execution (of 
 Leucippe, of Pamela, Philo- 
 clea, Antiphilus), 316-317; 
 double rendezvous and double 
 qui-pro-quo perhaps sug- 
 gested by Amadis, 318-320; 
 and perhaps by Heliodorus's 
 story of Cnemon, 319-320. 
 All incidents, from whatever 
 source, included by the oracle 
 in the Heliodorean frame, 
 319-320, 328, 366. Plot thus 
 controlled by Providence, 
 manifest in oracles, visions, 
 etc., 320-323; and using For- 
 tune and Virtue as its instru- 
 ments, 328 
 
 Fortune has small scope, 
 324-325; as a vera causa, 
 rare, and almost exclusively 
 in episodes, ibid.; Sidney 
 free from Fortune's domina- 
 tion, takes intellectual and 
 speculative view of her, ibid., 
 but condescends to contem- 
 porary habits of speech, 324, 
 325-326; Virtue and, 326- 
 328: Providence subjects 
 Fortune to Virtue, 328; us- 
 ing both as its agents, ibid. 
 
 Character, 314, 328-330, 
 334. 366: less prominent than 
 plot or setting, 328-329; per- 
 sonages mostly types, well 
 differentiated, 329, 330; but 
 Gynecia a fully rounded char- 
 acter, 314, 329; Gynecia 
 (Melitta) and Andromana 
 (Arsace and Demaeneta) the 
 only characters taken from 
 Greek Romance, 329; other 
 personages there merely to 
 play their part in Plot, 329- 
 330; Sidney's interest in 
 Character, inadequate, 328, 
 330 
 
 Humor, 308, 330-334: not 
 of character, but of situa- 
 tion and word, 330-332; 
 horseplay and cruelty, 331- 
 332; contrast between courtly 
 
INDEX 
 
 5*7 
 
 and peasant view of love, 
 332; prolixity, formulas, etc. 
 of mediaeval narrative, 332- 
 333; absence of misogyny, 
 333S34; sources of Sidney's 
 humor foreign to Greek Ro- 
 mance, 333, 334 
 
 Setting, 334-342, 366: imi- 
 tations of Achilles Tatius, 
 334-335; nothing from Lon- 
 gus, 335 5 descriptions of im- 
 prese and Emblems, not from 
 Greek Romance, 335-337; 
 imitations of Heliodorus, — 
 trionfo, jewel, horsemanship, 
 337-338; "pathetic optics," 
 338-342, esp. at the trial, a 
 spectacular ensemble-scene, 
 340-342 
 
 Structure, 343-353. " delib- 
 erately recast in the mould of 
 Heliodorus," 366: date of 
 first version, 343-344 5 the 
 " Old " Arcadia, the " New " 
 Arcadia, and the Arcadia, 
 345-347; contents of the Old 
 Arcadia, 347~348; processes 
 by which it was turned into 
 the New, 348-353; a com- 
 plete adoption of Heliodorus's 
 narrative method, 353, 366, 
 458, 461 
 
 Style, 354-366: "epideictic," 
 354; oratory, 354-355 5 For- 
 tune brings about tragedy 
 and comedy, 355~357; the- 
 atrical terminology, 354, 355- 
 357; antithesis and oxymo- 
 ron, 354; Fortune brings 
 about paradox, antithesis, and 
 oxymoron, 357 & n. 35, 358; 
 antitheses imitated from 
 Greek Romance, 358-363, 366 
 additional note; similar anti- 
 theses invited by Sidney 
 prove that he has caught 
 the style of the Greek 
 Romances, 364-366. {And 
 see Antithesis) 
 
 Silvayns Orator, 143 
 
 Soliloquy, 249, 251; antithet- 
 ical, 144, 376; ending with 
 
 assumed name, 142 n. 24, 
 310, 414-415; overheard, 142 
 n. 24, 310, 371, 388, 404, 
 414-415 
 Sophocles, 214 n. 76, 217 n. 78, 
 366 additional note, 386 n. 30 
 Spectacle, 150, 176-191, 340- 
 
 342 
 Spectacular Ensemble-Scenes, 
 184-189, 307, 340, 375, 376, 
 402, 417-422, 446 
 Spectacular Heroics, 150, 190- 
 
 191, 315 
 Spenser, Edmund, 172 n. 45 
 Stage-terms, see Theatrical con- 
 ception, etc. 
 Stepmother, Amorous, 133, 154, 
 3I3-3I4. 348-349. 415-416, 
 473-474 
 Storojenko, 395 
 Stravoskiadis, Andreas, 134 n. 
 
 18 
 Straying Animal, nurse or 
 suckling of human being, 
 leads to discovery of human 
 being its suckling or nurse, 
 (Longus, Boccaccio, Greene) 
 371-372, 388-389, 448-450; 
 not its suckling or nurse, 
 (Shakespeare) 448-450, 453- 
 455 
 Structure, Narrative, of Greek 
 Romances, 192-220, 234-235; 
 and see Greek Romances. 
 English novel may have ac- 
 quired, partly from Greek 
 Romances, 462-464. Of Eu- 
 phues,Tito and Gisippo,Athis 
 et Prophilias, and lost Greek 
 Romance, 249-256, 258-261 
 (Table), 458, 461. Of Sid- 
 ney's Arcadia, 343"353. 443~ 
 444, 461, 463-464 
 
 Mediaeval, ridiculed, 353. 
 Of Greene's A.basto, from 
 Achilles Tatius, 379, 393; of 
 portions of Carde of Fancie, 
 Philomela, Tullies Love, Pan- 
 dosto, from Heliodorus, 417- 
 429, 444, 452, 456; of 
 Menaphon, from the " Old " 
 Arcadia, 443-444; but 
 
528 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Greene's own sense of struc- 
 ture too feeble to utilize his 
 models, 424, 428, 429-432 
 (Mamillia, Menaphon), 457- 
 458, 461 
 
 Style, of Greek Romances, 216- 
 235; and see Greek Roman- 
 ces, Antithesis, Rhetoric. Of 
 Lyly, see Euphuism. Of Sid- 
 ney, 354-366, and see Sid- 
 ney. Of Greene, 376-379, 
 380-381, and see Greene 
 
 Susemihl, Franz, 3 n. 2 
 
 Suspense, 193, 197, 198, 199, 
 201, 202, 210, 350-351. 353. 
 421, 446. Moment of last 
 suspense: brought about by 
 Fortune, 387, 391-392; father 
 condemns child (AZthiopica, 
 Menaphon, Pandosto), 426- 
 429, 445, 452 
 
 Tasso, Torquato, 197 n. 65; 
 Aminta, 135, 433; Gernsa- 
 lemme Liberata, 220 n. 80, 
 432 
 
 Tennyson, 172 n. 45 
 
 Thaun, Philippe de, 209 n. 75 
 
 Theatrical courage, 150; con- 
 ception of story, in Helio- 
 dorus, 181-184, 189, 194-195, 
 197 n. 65, 198 n. 67, 446; 
 in Achilles Tatius and in 
 Longus, 183 n. 55; terminol- 
 ogy, in Heliodorus, 1 81-183, 
 189; in Achilles Tatius and 
 in Longus, 183 n. 55; in 
 Sidney, 354, 355~357; in 
 Greene, 4 1 0-4 11, 41 7-4 1 8, 
 421-422 
 
 Theocritus, 3, 167, 170 
 
 Theodorus Prodromus, Dosicles 
 and Rhodanthe, 10 
 
 Time-arrangement, in Helio- 
 dorus, inverted and obscure, 
 195; in Longus, straightfor- 
 ward, 199; in Achilles Tatius, 
 clear and detailed, 200-201; 
 in Sidney's " Old " Arcadia, 
 straightforward, 348, 352; 
 in " New " Arcadia, in- 
 verted, 351-352; in Greene's 
 
 Menaphon, straightforward, 
 imitated from " Old " Ar- 
 cadia, 443-444 
 
 Titian, 172 n. 45 
 
 Tragedy, machinery of, em- 
 ployed by Longus, 122, 183 
 n. 55; Heliodorus's affinity 
 to, 117, 157, 181-183, 189, 
 214 n. 76; De Casibus 
 Virorum Illastrium, associ- 
 ated with, 386 n. 30 
 
 Travel, element of, in Greek 
 Romance, connected with 
 hieratic element, esp. cult of 
 sun-and-moon gods, 112 n. 1; 
 absence from Longus, 124; 
 saves him from geographical 
 digressions, 166; " Reisero- 
 man," 164 n. 36, 255; in Sid- 
 ney, 311 
 
 Trial-scenes, 6, 180, 187, 204- 
 205, 254, 307, 317-318, 319- 
 320, 321, 323, 340-342, 347, 
 355, 364 n. 37, 380, 405-406, 
 417-422, 446, 452, 456 
 
 Tiichert, Alois, 198 n. 67 
 
 Two Friends, Legend of, 250- 
 256, 258-261 (Table), 311, 
 364 n. 37 
 
 Tuxrj, see Fortune 
 
 " Tychomania ", see Fortune 
 
 Underdowne, Thomas, Transla- 
 tion of Mthiopica, 8, 159 n. 
 33, 164, 173 n. 46, 237 n. 1, 
 238-239, 240, 360, 375-376, 
 427 n. 52 
 
 Unexpected, The, in Greek Ro- 
 mances, 5 n. 4, 10, 210-235; 
 in Greene, 376, 377, 429; and 
 see Irrelevancy, Paradox 
 
 " Unnatural natural history," 
 6, 208-210, 377-378 
 
 Urfe, Honore d\ 135 
 
 Veronese, Paolo, 172 n. 45 
 Virgil, 193, 235, 386 n. 30, 413 
 Virtu and Fortune, see For- 
 tune 
 Vision, 368-369 
 Volucraries, 208 
 
INDEX 
 
 529 
 
 Walden, J. W. H., 181 n. 54, 
 
 195 n. 63 
 Walsingham, Sir Francis, 344 
 Warner, William, Albions Eng- 
 land : " Argentile and Cu- 
 ran," 433, 440, 442-445; Pan 
 his Syrinx, 433 n. 57 
 Warren, F. M., 176 n. 47, 237 
 
 n. 3 
 Warschewiczki, Stanislaus, 
 translation of AZthiopica, 8, 
 237 
 Whibley, Charles, 237 nn. 1, 2, 
 
 & 3, 238 n. 4 
 Wickhoff, Franz, 171 n. 41 
 Wilson, Henry, 187 n. 56 
 Wilson, John Dover, 250 n. ia 
 
 Wolff, Samuel Lee, 250 n. ia, 
 403 n. 40, 432 n. 55, 463 n. 2 
 
 Women, as leaders, 131, 152; 
 superior to men in Greek Ro- 
 mances, 150; and see Hero- 
 ine, Misogyny 
 
 Word-painting, 6, 7; in Achil- 
 les Tatius, 169-176; in Helio- 
 dorus almost wanting, 177; 
 and see Description ;'E/c</>pacri? 
 
 Wouters, Frans, 172 n. 45 
 
 Wyttenbach, D. A., 157 
 
 Xenophon of Ephesus, Ephesi- 
 aca, or Habrocomes and 
 Anthea, 1, 8, 10 n. 1, 254 
 
VITA 
 
 The author was born January 15, 1874, in Bal- 
 timore, Maryland, where he received his early 
 education at one of the public schools. After the 
 removal of his family to New York in 1883 ne 
 was prepared for college at Dr. J. Sachs's Col- 
 legiate Institute. He received from Harvard 
 University the degree of A.B. in 1892; from 
 Columbia University the degrees of A.M. and 
 LL.B. in 1895 an d 1896 respectively, and the de- 
 gree of Ph.D. in 191 1. His studies for the doc- 
 torate were conducted under the direction of the 
 Department of Comparative Literature and the 
 Department of English. He took courses under 
 Professors Woodberry, Spingarn, Chandler, 
 Price, F. T. Baker, and G. R. Carpenter. 
 
 From 1903 to 1905 he taught English at the 
 De Witt Clinton High School, New York; from 
 1905 to 1907 he was Assistant Professor of Eng- 
 lish at the University of Tennessee ; in 1907-8 he 
 was an Instructor in Rhetoric at the University 
 of Michigan; from 1909 to 191 1 he taught Eng- 
 lish at the High School of Commerce, New York ; 
 in 191 1 he was appointed to give instruction in 
 English as an Officer of Extension Teaching at 
 Columbia University. 
 
 He has published " Robert Greene and the 
 Italian Renaissance," in Englische Studien, 
 XXXVII. 321- "A Source of Euphues. The 
 530 
 
VITA. 531 
 
 Anatomy of Wyt," in Modem Philology, VII. 
 577 ; " The Jacobean Boccaccio," in The Nation 
 (New York), vol. 89, p. 14; "Laurence Sterne," 
 ibid., vol. 89, p. 346; "The Greek Gift to Civili- 
 zation," ibid., vol. 90, p. 339; and numerous un- 
 signed reviews. 
 
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