When I demand of Phoenix-Stella's state, You say, forsooth, "You left her well of late." O God! think you that satisfies _my_ care? I would know whether she do sit or walk,-- How clothed, how waited on? sighed she, or smiled? Whereof--with whom--how often did she talk? With what pastime, time's journey she beguiled? If her lips deign'd to sweeten my poor name? Say all! and all well said, still say the same! At length, after the usual train of hopes, fears, complaints, and raptures, the lady begins to look with pity and favour on the "ruins of her conquest;"[105] and he exults in an acknowledged return of love, though her heart be given conditionally,-- His only, while he virtuous courses takes. So far Stella appears in a most amiable and captivating light, worthy the romantic homage of her accomplished lover. But a dark shade steals, like a mildew, over this bright picture of beauty, poetry, and love, even while we gaze upon it. The projected union between Sydney and Lady Penelope was finally broken off by their respective families, for reasons which do not appear.[106] Sir Charles Blount offered himself, and was refused, though evidently agreeable to the lady; and she was married by her guardians to Lord Rich, a man of talents and integrity, but most disagreeable in person and manners, and her declared aversion.[107] This inauspicious union ended, as might have been expected, in misery and disgrace. Lady Rich bore her fate with extreme impatience. Her warm affections, her high spirit, and her strength of mind, so heroically displayed in behalf of her brother, served but to render her more poignantly sensible of the tyranny which had forced her into detested bonds. She could not forget,--perhaps never wished or sought to forget--that she had received the homage of the two most accomplished men of that time,--Sydney and Blount; "and not finding that satisfaction at home she ought to have received, she looked for it abroad where she ought not to find it." Sydney describes a secret interview which took place between himself and Lady Rich shortly after her marriage. I should have observed, that Sydney designates himself all through his poems by the name of Astrophel. In a grove, most rich of shade, Where birds wanton music made, May, then young, his pied weeds showing, New perfumed with flowers fresh growing. Astrophel, with Stella sweet, Did for mutual comfort meet; Both within themselves opprest, But each in the other blest; Him great harms had taught much care, _Her fair neck a foul yoke bear_; But her sight his cares did banish, In his sight her yoke did vanish, &c. He pleads the time, the place, the season, and their divided vows; and would have pressed his suit more warmly, But her hand, his hands repelling, Gave repulse--all grace excelling! ....*....*....*....*