SIDNEY, SIR PHILIP (1554–1586) Born to Sir Henry Sidney, lord deputy of Ireland, and

Lady Mary Dudley Sidney, sister of Robert Dudley, earl of Leicester, Sir Philip Sidney was a
celebrity during his own lifetime. At age 10, he entered Shrewsbury School, where he met his
lifelong friend and biographer, SIR FULKE GREVILLE. Though he later attended Oxford University,
Sidney did not take a degree; rather, he supplemented his formal education with three years
of extensive traveling throughout the Continent (1572–75). The journey left ineffable
impressions on him. For instance, he witnessed the Massacre of St. Bartholomew’s Day, a gory
event resulting in the deaths of numerous Huguenots (French Protestants), which
strengthened his Protestant resolve.

Sidney was greatly admired by his contemporaries as both an author and a patron. His literary
circle included Greville, Thomas Drant, Edward Dyer, and EDMUND SPENSER, who went so far as
to dedicate The SHEPHEARD’S CALENDER (1579) to him. Sidney’s own works include Lady of May
(1578), an entertaining piece composed in honour of Queen ELIZABETH I; the SONNET SEQUENCE
entitled ASTROPHIL AND STELLA, which is credited with establishing the genre’s popularity;
Arcadia, a PASTORAL prose ROMANCE, revised later into the New Arcadia (1590); CERTAIN SONNETS
(1598); and the magisterial DEFENSE OF POESY (1595).

Though Sidney’s literary life seemed charmed, his political and romantic entanglements were
complicated. In 1580, he was dismissed from court for publicly opposing Queen Elizabeth’s
proposed marriage to the Catholic duke of Anjou. Soon afterward, in 1581, his beloved
Penelope Devereux, the daughter of the earl of Essex, married Lord Rich, though she had
supposedly been engaged to Sidney in 1576. Two years later, Sidney married Frances
Walsingham, the daughter of Sir Francis Walsingham, and was knighted.

Four years later, in the Battle of Zutphen on September 22, 1586, Sidney was mortally
wounded in the left thigh. He succumbed to a gangrenous infection at the age of 32 on
October 17, 1586. Virtually the entire country mourned Sidney’s death. His sister, MARY SIDNEY
HERBERT, COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE, became the cus- todian of Sidney’s prolific writings and kept
his memory alive. Sidney retained his status even after death, and he continues to be admired
today.

ASTROPHIL AND STELLA (OVERVIEW) SIR PHILIP SIDNEY’s Astrophil and Stella, a
monument of English Renaissance verse, is considered the first complete SONNET SEQUENCE in
English. Though its exact date of composition is unknown, the poems are thought to have
been written in the early 1580s, and the sequence was first published in 1591. Publisher
Thomas Newman released two editions of the poems during this year: The first was
unauthorized, based on a circulating manuscript, and the second was reportedly based on a
manuscript provided by the Sidney family. What has become the authorized and authoritative
version appeared in the 1598 printing of The Countess of Pembroke’s Arcadia. The 1591 edition
excluded Sidney’s Sonnet 37, the 11th Song, and portions of the Eighth Song, placing them at
the end of the sonnets, while the 1598 edition distributes the songs throughout the text. The
substance and ordering of the 1598 edition is taken among scholars to be authoritative since
its publication was overseen by MARY SIDNEY HERBERT, COUNTESS OF PEMBROKE, the poet’s sister
and editor.

Scholarly debates abound concerning efforts to ascribe a set plot to Astrophil and Stella, and
little agreement exists on how to interpret the sequence’s structure. Nonetheless, a narrative
does emerge. The series contains a total of 119 poems: 108 SONNETs in either iambic pentameter
and iambic hexameter, all of which are variations on the ENGLISH SONNET and ITALIAN (PETRARCHAN)
SONNET forms; and 11 “songs” of varying prosody. With the exception of the Eighth Song, which
is written in the third person, the speaker of the poems is Astrophil (“star-lover”) who is in
love with Stella (“star”).

The first 35 poems introduce Stella and meditate on Astrophil’s love for her. Sonnet 36 is the
first poem that addresses Stella directly and initiates a series of poems that attempt to obtain
her affections. Sonnet 37, the Fifth Song, and the Eighth Song hint that Stella could already
be married, which may explain her refusal of Astrophil’s advances. Nonetheless, by Sonnet
69, Stella agrees to a virtuous reciprocal love for Astrophil. Astrophil breaches his promise to
love her chastely in the Second Song, stealing a kiss from Stella as she sleeps and incurring
her anger. Astrophil continues to struggle with his strong physical desire for Stella, again
seeking consummation in the Fourth Song. Stella’s anger only cools in the Eighth Song as the
couple reconciles and she departs. The remainder of the series bemoans the lady’s absence,
ending with a final meditation on Astrophil’s continued loneliness and despair.

Astrophil and Stella has had a significant influence on the development of English poetry, in
part because of Sidney’s approach to the dominant poetic influence of the day: Petrarchism,
the legacy of the 14th-century Italian poet PETRARCH. Sidney’s response to the mode of writing
prescribed by Petrarchism introduced a new era of poetic production in England. Unlike
earlier English Petrarchists, like SIR THOMAS WYATT and HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY, Sidney did
not directly translate Petrarch’s poems. Yet Astrophil and Stella is highly Petrarchan and is
widely held responsible for sparking the so-called sonnet craze of the 1590s. Sidney was so
strongly identified with Petrarchism that a contemporary called him “our English Petrarke.”
The poems in the sequence are spoken by Astrophil to his beloved Stella. As is typical of
Petrarchan poetry, Astrophil loves Stella ardently and pursues her despite her tenacious
rebuffs. The uncomplicated resemblance of this series to Petrarch’s Rime Sparse ends here.

Astrophil and Stella has been admired since its publication because of Sidney’s effort to
reinterpret, rather than merely reflect, Petrarchan paradigms. The primary relationship that
Sidney’s sequence describes differs provocatively from the typical Petrarchan love
relationship. Sidney’s Stella does not have the combi- nation of blond hair and blue eyes, of
the typical Petrarchan mistress. Though Stella’s hair is blond, her eyes are black. This
seemingly minor detail invokes a new vision of the beloved, separating her from preconceived
notions about how the beloved, and even the lover, should be described in verse. Thus, Sidney
sets the stage for a very different courtship.

Unlike the typical Petrarchan beloved who is admired chastely from afar, Astrophil struggles
openly with physical desire, and his relationship with Stella does have a physical component.
Stella is married and is certainly both worshipped and unreachable through much of the
series, but Sidney innovates by maintaining a close physical proximity between lover and
beloved. In the Second Song, Astrophil kisses Stella as she sleeps, an act that approaches
violence and is incommensurate with the distance of the typical Petrarchan beloved. In the
Fourth Song, he seeks con- summation of their now reciprocal affection, asking “Take me to
thee, and thee to me,” to which Stella responds, “No, no, no, no, my Deare, let be.” Though
Stella obviously refuses Astrophil’s advances, it is more typical of Petrarchan verse to avoid
such overt entreaties for physical love.

Even the resolution of this sonnet sequence both approaches and avoids Petrarchan
influence. Petrarch’s Laura finally dies, becoming absolutely unattainable. His sequence then
turns to a more virtuous meditation on spiritual love. While Astrophil also fails to win Stella,
her life continues and Astrophil even looks, though briefly, to other women for solace (Sonnet
106). Although other poets of the day used Petrarchan conventions to discuss physical love,
notably Sir Thomas Wyatt in “THEY FLEE FROM ME,” Sidney is the first to so fully address desire
in love.

The language of the sequence further reveals Sidney’s difficult relationship with the
Petrarchan influence. While the circumstances portrayed in the sequence do have original
aspects, the language Sidney uses to describe them often makes use of Petrarchan tropes,
including, among others, the oxymoron of the “cruel fair,” which identifies the lady as
beautiful but cruelly dismissive of his love; frequent use of the BLA- ZON, a part-by-part
description of the beloved; and the highly Petrarchan notion that the lady’s eyes can pierce
the lover’s heart. On the other hand, Sidney also uses Astrophil and Stella to cultivate his own
signature literary devices. Sidney’s speaker famously calls for poetic originality in the first line
of Sonnet 1: “Foole, said my muse to me, looke in thy heart and write” (l. 14).
The sequence is very witty, and Sidney typically ends his sonnets with a pithy final COUPLET
which often subverts or reframes the poem that precedes it. As many critics have noted, it is
the very tension between Petrarchism and originality that make the sequence both difficult
to read and compelling. The version of Petrarchan love Sidney presents in Astrophil and Stella
both broadened and altered the type of influence Petrarchan verse had on Renaissance poets
and has contributed to the slipperiness of this term in contemporary criticism.

Astrophil and Stella has been consistently read and revered since its publication, yet critical
interpretations of the series vary widely. One major line of critical debate concerns the
sequence’s biographical elements. From the 19th century to the middle of the 20th century,
Astrophil and Stella was considered primarily a portrayal in verse of Philip Sidney’s thwarted
love affair with Penelope Devereux, the oldest daughter of the earl of Essex. There is evidence
to suggest that the earl wished Penelope to marry Sidney; how- ever, she married Lord Rich
in 1581. Puns on rich throughout the series, the most provocative perhaps being Sonnet 24,
have been taken as textual support for this hypothesis, as has Stella’s implied married status.
Today the solely autobiographical interpretation of the sequence is increasingly rare; many
contemporary critics downplay it, while some argue that the historical evidence for a
romantic liaison between the two is virtually nonexistent.

Recent criticism has also produced numerous other approaches to understanding the
sequence. The tension in the series between Sidney’s devout Protestant- ism and the primarily
secular, even bodily or worldly, goals of the Petrarchan love lyric has received much scholarly
attention. The structure of the sequence has also been variously interpreted. Do the poems,
read in sequence, tell a coherent story? Or do they only reveal a tenuous narrative with each
sonnet as a discrete part? Sidney’s poems have additionally been brought into discussions
about 16th-century concepts of the self. To this end, more recent criticism has even compared
Sidney’s poems to other types of artistic production and the material culture of the English
Renaissance. Notably, the scholar Patricia Fumerton has explored how Sidney’s sonnets relate
to miniature portraits in their efforts to both conceal and reveal their subjects’ internal
experiences.

The continued interest scholars and students have shown in Astrophil and Stella and its
complex discourse of love attests to the strong influence Sidney’s poetry has had both on
English literature and on contemporary concepts of how love can be represented through
language.

Astrophil and Stella: Sonnet 1 Sonnet 1 of Astrophil and Stella, which reflects SIR PHILIP
SIDNEY’s authorial concerns about joining the formidable SONNET SEQUENCE tradition, serves an
important in function: Through it, Sidney makes the genre his own.

The poem begins with a declaration of Astrophil’s love, held in his heart but (as of yet)
unknown to Stella. The entire sequence is aimed at obtaining “grace” (l. 4) by offering Stella
the pleasure of his pain (l. 2). Astrophil seeks “fit words to paint the blackest face of woe” (l.
5), thereby placing himself in the traditional Petrarchan position as supplicant. Desperately,
Astrophil examines “others’ leaves” (poetry, l. 8) for inspiration. Unfortunately, as the last six
lines of the poem indicate, the words do not come easily, and invention remains unresponsive.
Astrophil bites his “truant” pen and “beat[s] himself” for not being able to perform better (l.
13), and the “blows [of] stepdame Study” (l. 14) fail, leaving other “feet” [poetry] useless.
However, the “Muse,” a figure representing poetic inspiration, interrupts and instructs him to
look into his heart and simply write what he finds there. Thus the poem turns from the need
to write to the external authorities offering proper models, and then to the surer guidance of
the poet’s own heart.

As the first poem in one of the most important sequences written in England, this SONNET is
enormously significant in its own right, not least because it clearly states Sidney’s own
objectives in writing his sonnets. When he says that he is truly in love and struggling for words
to fit that love, he means to be taken seriously. At the same time, these opening lines also
draw explicit attention to Sidney’s relationship with his sources, including his predecessors
PETRARCH, SIR THOMAS WYATT, and HENRY HOWARD, EARL OF SURREY. Moreover, Sidney is referencing
contemporary sonnets, suggesting that his sequence will be the out- flow of his heart rather
than an invention contextualized within a well-established genre.

Critical approaches to the poem focus on the sonnet tradition and its philosophical
complexities, particularly in regard to Petrarch. Since Astrophil says that others’ writing is
unfit for his needs and that the rhetoric of the form is stale, critics often examine how (and
if) Sidney is doing anything new, as he claims. The poem can also be read as the first salvo in
a seduction or as an exploration of the relationship between the sexes, since the entire series
of sonnets is written to achieve an erotic aim. Recent work in studying the early modern
passions is likely to offer new insights into the love, pity, and spite that play such a large role
in this dramatic opening statement.

Astrophil and Stella: Sonnet 31 As Sonnet 31 opens, the speaker, Astrophil, sees the
melancholic moon and addresses it familiarly, deciding that, like him, it suffers from
LOVESICKNESS. He goes on to muse about Cupid’s role in the moon’s lovesickness—has the “busy
archer” managed to shoot the moon with one of his arrows? Astrophil decides that it is so,
and thus the moon must be lovesick. He is so experienced at being in love that he can take
one look at the moon’s face and read the longing written there. Since he and the moon are in
a similar position, Astrophil wonders if games of love are handled the same way in the
heavens as they are on earth: Are those who are consumed with love treated like fools? Are
heavenly women as disdainful as earthly women? Do they recognize virtue when they see it?

Sonnet 31 is a fairly standard ITALIAN (PETRARCHAN) SONNET in form and theme. In the OCTAVE, the
speaker personifies the moon, addressing it in an APOSTROPHE: “With how sad steps, O moon,
thou climb’st the skies!” (l. 1). He observes the sadness of the moon and believes that it, too,
is experiencing the woe of unrequited love. In assuming that the moon, an element of nature,
shares the same feelings as he does, the speaker has fallen victim to the pathetic fallacy,
which is one by- product of PERSONIFICATION. He also sets himself up as an experienced lover
who can identify love at any distance based solely on appearances.

In the SESTET, the speaker rhetorically questions the moon about the capricious nature of
beautiful women. Rhetorical questions serve to reveal the speaker’s feelings about his own
situation while presumably talking about someone else’s circumstances. In this way, he is
distanced from the powerful emotions that threaten to overwhelm him.

Throughout the poem, the repeated word love serves both as a reminder of the subject at
hand and also as a metaphorical prison. While the idea of love is implied in the first four lines,
the term is first used outright in line 5. As the poem moves toward its conclusion, the word
becomes used repeatedly in various forms, as different parts of speech, and it fulfils a number
of grammatical functions. It is part of an adjectival compound (“long-with-love-acquainted
eyes,” l. 5), an object of a preposition (“of love,” l. 6), a piece of a possessive (“a lover’s case,”
l. 6), a noun (“constant love,” l. 10), a verb and an infinitive verb (“Do they above love to be
loved ...,” l. 12), and as part of a plural noun and nominative structure (“those lovers scorn
whom that love doth possess?” l. 13). Love is subject and object, active and passive, singular
and manifold. Love is intrinsically intertwined with all of Astrophil’s thoughts and deeds, and
as such is inescapable. He has con- structed his own confinement.

Most of the critical controversy surrounding the poem is focused on the rhetorical questions
in the sestet, particularly the final question: “Do they call virtue there ungratefulness?” (l. 14)
There are two basic approaches. The first group believes that the question reads, “Do
heavenly ladies call their lovers’ virtue ungratefulness?” The second holds the position that
the question reads, “Do heavenly ladies call their own ungratefulness virtue?” The first school
of thought is more widely accepted. This interpretation is based primarily on the COURT CULTURE
that influenced the SONNET tradition. Through the use of rhetorical questions, the speaker
points out the absurdity of his position. In early modern COURTLY LOVE games, male lovers were
supposed to be utterly and completely devoted to their lady, focusing on her and her alone
with a single-minded, passionate determination. Astrophil laments that his unflagging love
has been called unintelligent by Stella, as he asks the moon, “Is constant love deemed there
but want of wit?” (l. 10). Yet she is truly the one who is acting irrationally, since she wants to
be loved but then mocks the person who loves her. Further, she terms his virtue in the face
of no response “ungratefulness.” Again, the speaker complains that the ladies look down on
what they should actually hold dear.

The second school of thought relies on the rhetorical idea of paromologia, conceeding one
point in order to gain the advantage. The speaker has carefully con- structed his opponent’s
position, but then dramatically reverses the positions, undercutting his opponent all the more.
In this case, the speaker, who has been complaining about the heavenly ladies, unexpectedly
asks these same selfish women to comment on their own behaviour, which smacks of
superiority. Thus, he has provided them with a rather painful example of their rudeness,
perhaps in the hope that they will gain some self-knowledge. At the least, the proud “virtuous”
beauties should have gained something unanticipated to consider.

These positions are complicated somewhat by the mythological connotations contained

within the son- net. In the first reading, the speaker undercuts his position in choosing to
address the moon. In classical mythology, the moon is associated with Diana, the virgin
goddess known for her changeable nature, who viciously guards her chastity. That Astrophil
assumes the moon has been shot by Cupid seems impossible, as she should be immune to his
arrows of love. Further- more, as the goddess of the hunt, Diana is an archer in her own right
and able to shoot her own arrows of jus- tice. Therefore, for Astrophil to ask the moon to see
his point is useless, as the moon has never been and can never be lovesick, as he is. In this
case, the virginal moon would indeed consider his dogged determination to love the unwilling
lady as “ungratefulness.” If the moon is directly aligned with Stella, however, the mythological
associations uphold the second reading. Stella, like the moon, is cold, remote, fickle, and
untouched. In this case, Astrophil is virtuous not only because of his constancy but also
because he restrains himself sexually. He reminds her that such self-control is painful,
emotionally and perhaps physically, and deserves compassion and approval. Instead of being
considerate of his plight, Stella instead unreasonably charges her lover with being ungrateful.
She believes she is being reasonable and kind simply by allowing Astrophil to serve her, and
she insists that he should be content with what he has. Since he is not truly satisfied merely
by enslaving himself, he is then compelled to point out her folly.

Other critics have employed psychoanalytic approaches in interpreting Sonnet 31. As a poem
about sublimation, not fulfilment, it is preoccupied with the psychological status of male
lovers. It is clear from the outset that the speaker is bitter toward women and society.
Because of social conventions, he is trapped into devotedly serving one woman despite her
cold disdain. The sarcasm employed by the speaker betrays his true feelings about the state
of affairs. By speaking to the moon and imbuing it with human characteristics and feelings,
the speaker has displaced his own emotions. Displacement results in emotional distance; this
is considered by psychoanalysts to be a defense mechanism used to stave off depression,
but actually resulting in repression. This distancing is made apparent in the sestet, where the
speaker can only employ rhetorical questions to reveal his inner self. However, his turmoil and
frustration are clearly conveyed even through these queries.

In terms of Sigmund Freud’s tripartite structure of the human psyche, the woman, who has
continued to fend off her would-be lover’s physical attentions, serves in the capacity of the
superego, keeping the male id (libido) in check. In the Freudian scheme, every human’s mind
consists of three parts: the id, the ego, and the superego. The id is comprised of the base,
instinctual desires; the superego reflects the rules of society and functions as a restraint for
the id, which continually attempts to take over. These psychic battles take place within the
ego, which is the middle realm. Although the woman/super- ego can sometimes prevail, and
the speaker/id will humbly withdraw, in Sonnet 31 the speaker/id seems to be winning the
struggle, and his bitter reproach is an attempt to assail her remote calm. Which will prevail?
The sonnet does not provide an answer.
Astrophil and Stella: Sonnet 49 In Sonnet 49, Astrophil compares his mastery over a horse
to love’s mastery over him. SIR PHILIP SID- NEY was familiar with equestrianism: He participated
in tilts at court on several occasions between 1574 and 1584. At the same time, the CONCEIT
that Love rides the lover as an equestrian rides a horse is a conventional Petrarchan one.

The first quatrain sets up Astrophil’s comparison through a CHIASMUS in line three, where
Astrophil tells us that he is “a horseman to [his] horse, a horse to Love.” Placing the word
horse in the middle of the chiasmus is consistent with the “great chain of being” of
Renaissance cosmography, in which humanity stands in the middle of a chain connecting the
divine (Love as a god) to the animal world (the horse). Thus, when Astrophil refers to himself
as a beast in line four, it is with reference to humanity’s position between the gods and the
beasts, partaking partly in both. The word descrie means both to observe and to reveal, so
that Astrophil both observes his own faults or wrongs and reveals them to us in his poetry.

The last four lines of the OCTAVE as well as the first three of the SESTET extend the metaphor by
which Love “rides” Astrophil like a horse. The humility that love has stirred in Astrophil is
compared to reins. Love’s “raines” are connected to the bit that fits in the horse’s mouth, by
which the rider controls the “Reverence.” In line 7, Astrophil makes a pun on a “guilt boss” on
the bit. A boss is a decorative knob on the bit; a gilt boss has been gilded, usually in gold.
Here, gilt is spelled “guilt”—fear and guilt restrain Astrophil’s passions. Moreover, the boss on
Astrophil’s metaphorical bit is gilt not with gold but with “Hope,” illustrating the relationship
among fear, hope, and guilt in the unrequited lover: The hope of having a sexual encounter
attracts the lover, but this hope conceals the guilt the lover feels at the possibility of sexually
defiling his pure beloved. Astrophil’s “Will” is figured as the whip or “Wand,” spurring on his
desire. “Fancie,” which Astrophil figures as the saddle, compares to fantasy—Astrophil’s
fulfilment.

Critics have read this SONNET as a platonic ALLEGORY of love, noting that in Plato’s Phaedrus the
soul is compared to a two-horse chariot driven by a charioteer, and certainly both Sidney and
Petrarch were familiar with Plato. As well, Astrophil relates that he takes “delight” in being
ridden by Love, similar to the way Plato describes human progress toward enlightenment—
from loving base objects to preferring rarified things. Other critics see the poem as Astrophil’s
moral and psychological descent from reason into animal passion.

Astrophil and Stella: Sonnet 71 Using a variation of the ITALIAN (PETRARCHAN) SONNET, the
rhyme scheme in Sonnet 71 follows an OCTAVE and SESTET pattern of abbaabba, cdcdee.
However, the sense of the poem is closer to the ENGLISH SONNET form of three QUATRAINs and a
COUPLET, with a significant variation that creates conflict between the rhyme scheme and the
syntax of the poem: The final line of the third quatrain works with the closing couplet to
provide the resolution of the situation set up in the initial 11 lines.

The speaker begins by stating to a general audience that anyone who wants to know how
Virtue and beauty can coexist in Nature should turn to Stella, whose “fair lines . . . true
goodness show” (l. 4). These “lines” can refer either to the lines (as in a drawing) that create
the image that is Stella, or to the lines of text in the book of Nature that is Stella, making her
a poem in that book that provides instruction through delight. In the lines that are Stella, the
reader will find vices overthrown by sweet reason instead of “rude force” (l. 6), when the light
of reason from the sun shining in her eyes scares away the owls that are emblematic of various
vices. The sestet then turns the speaker’s attention to Stella herself, who, “not content to be
Perfection’s heir” (l. 9), tries to push all who admire her good qualities toward manifesting
those qualities themselves. The speaker concludes by acknowledging that Stella’s beauty
encourages his heart to love her, her Virtue keeps the focus on proper acknowledgement of
that love, and his Desire cries out for more in their relationship. The sestet introduces Platonic
concepts of perfection (which include nonsexual love), but the final line undercuts these as
amorous passion searches its “food” (l. 14)— the beloved’s love. The speaker is thereby
distracted by Desire and cannot enjoy reading Virtue in the book that is Stella. In this way,
Astrophil uses what is referred to as moral sophistry, a misleadingly sound argument, to
present his true desire. Reason and logic do not allow him to extinguish his desire for this
woman, which represents the poet’s departure from the Petrarchan convention of a chaste
and an ideal love.

Astrophil and Stella: Sonnet 90 onnet 90 of Astrophil and Stella, like several earlier poems
in the SONNET SEQUENCE (1, 3, 6, 15, and 74), reflects on the act of writing poetry, serving as a
reminder to Astrophil that he writes not only of Stella and her love but for her, too; she is
both audience and content.

This ITALIAN (PETRARCHAN) SONNET is built on a foundation of negative statements, of denials:

each of the five phrases—“thinke not” (l. 1); “Nor so ambitious I” (l. 5); “In truth I sweare, I wish
not” (l. 7); “ne if I would” (l. 9); and “For nothing from my wit or will doth flow” (l. 12)—
introduces a different nuance of the poetic creative experience. In addition, there are
subsidiary denials, all of which together lead steadily toward the conclusion that Astrophil
claims he is interpreting the love that flows through him, not creating it.

The SONNET also addresses fame garnered through writing. In the first four lines, the speaker
states that he has never sought fame; one audience—Stella—is enough (“If thou praise not, all
other praise is shame,” l. 4). The only fame he seeks, implicitly, is that of being known for
loving Stella. In a crescendo of verbs—seek, hope, love, live—Astrophil places himself in
relation to Stella as her faithful lover. He goes so far as to claim that he “live[s] but for thee”
(l. 2). The next six lines deal with ambition. Here there is no mention of Stella; the speaker
repudiates the name of poet on the grounds that he cannot call himself a poet on account of
“the plumes from others’ wings I take” (l. 11). This sentiment echoes both Sonnet 1 and SIR
PHILIP SIDNEY’s arguments in his DEFENSE OF POESY, where the poet is specifically defined as a
“maker,” one who does not borrow from nature—or other poets—but creates from within his
own mind.

The last three lines clarify that Astrophil’s poetry comes from Stella’s beauty and his own love
(ll. 13– 14), which is a very different situation than borrowing “others leaves” (Sonnet 1, 1.7).
He gives to Stella’s beauty the full credit for providing all his words as well as the impetus for
writing them down. What makes this sonnet stand out is the poet-lover’s self-defensive tone;
the series of negatives acts to undermine the strength of the poet’s argument, defending
before there has been any attack.

Astrophil and Stella: Sonnet 107 Sonnet 107 marks a shift in tone and purpose from the
despair and sorrow in the poems that pre- cede it. Here, Astrophil, using metaphors of public
service, proposes either to conquer his passion for Stella, or at least to sublimate it by using
it to fuel some other endeavour. He addresses her first as “Princesse” (l. 1), then as “Queene”
(l. 9), acknowledging her power over him, but asks her to let him have a time of peace from
loving her and, more, to aid him in his “great cause” (l. 8). Unless this happens, he fears that
others will be able to condemn Stella for Astrophil’s weakness.

The opening of this ITALIAN (PETRARCHAN) SONNET immediately establishes Stella’s right to rule
Astrophil, as do many of the poems in this sequence. Astrophil unstintingly admits that “all
the powers which life bestowes in me” (l. 2) are under Stella’s aegis. Because she is his ruler,
Astrophil says, before he can undertake any work (l. 3), he must have both Stella’s approval
and her support. The second half of the OCTAVE offers the only release from the images of
power and regime: Astrophil addresses Stella, imploringly, as “Sweete” (l. 5). He begs her to
let him stop loving her (“give respite to my hart,” l. 5), admitting that he cannot control his
passion on his own: “. . . my hart, / Which pants as though it still should leape to thee” (ll. 5–
6). At this point in the narrative of the love relationship, Astrophil has no expectation of
success, but that does not stop him from being sexually and emotionally involved with Stella
in his imagination. Astrophil’s excitement and commitment to his new course of action can
be seen syntactically: There is no complete stop until line 11 (a colon was very “light”
punctuation during the 16th century). Eagerly, Astrophil urges his monarch to send him out
to employ his experience, “use” and talents, “art” in the “great cause” of turning his personal
passion into some appropriate and legitimate service (l. 8). The word Lieftenancy (l. 7) assures
readers that Stella is still the motive for all of Astrophil’s actions; what has changed is the
nature and sphere of those accomplishments.

What Astrophil does not say is that this is what Stella has sought all along. Instead, in Sonnet
107, Astrophil makes the situation look like his own idea, and he implores Stella for permission
to do what she has been urging him to do. In many ways, Sonnet 107 answers Sonnet 69, not
least because in the earlier SON- NET Astrophil was given the “monarchie” of Stella’s “high
heart” (l. 10), and in Sonnet 107 he repeatedly affirms her command over him. The final irony
of Son- net 107 comes in the last three lines, when Astrophil hints that if he is not allowed to
take up some greater work, it will be Stella’s perceived fault: “On servants’ shame oft Maister’s
blame doth sit” (l. 12). The wheedling tone of line 5’s “Sweete” now fulfils its purpose.
Astrophil does not want his faithful loving to be scorned because it resulted in nothing more
than the passionate outpourings of an unsuccessful suitor. However, by accepting his own
responsibility for his change in attitude, he reverses his fortune and his love endeavour
succeeds.

These notes are taken from British Poetry before 1600 by M. Sauer