Wife and window in Arcadia: re-envisioning the ideal.(Philip Sidney's 'New Arcadia')(Critical Essay)

In February of 1608, Margaret Ferne-seede, the window of a London tailor, was executed at Saint George's field for the murder of her husband. It was reported that Margaret, upon hearing of his death, demanded to be brought to the scene of the crime where, after viewing her husband's bloody, maggot-infested body, expressed no visible sign of emotion; instead, she dryly demanded "whether his throat were cut or [whether] he had cut his own throat" (Araignement 1608, n.p.) When asked by an astonished acquaintance why "the loss of a good husband [is] so slightly to be regarded," she coolly responded: "Tut sir, mine eyes are ill already and I must now preserve them to mend my clothes, not to mourn for a husband" (n.p.).

Whatever other evidence was used to convict the dry-eyed Margaret, perhaps none was as damning as her unnatural response to her newly acquired widow status. For she purportedly did not shed a tear at the sight of her husband's mutilated body; rather, as the Araignement reports, "the dryness of her brain would suffer no moisture to descend into her eyes" (1608, n.p.). From this lack of tears, a case was constructed around the stoic Margaret. Later it would be reported that she had, even prior to the murder, exhibited behavior unbecoming a wife.

She had been given to all the looseness and lewdness of life which either unlawful lust or abominable prostitution could violently call upon her, with the greatest infamy, yea, and with such a public and irrespective unchastity that neither being chaste nor cautious she was regarded not either into what care the loathsomeness of her life was founded or into what bed of lust her lascivious body was transported. (Araignement 1608. n.p.)

That she came to be labeled an unchaste wife ultimately doomed the emotionless Margaret Ferne--seede. For in casting aside her chastity, as the Araignement maintains, Margaret opened herself up even to the possibility of murder. Although no physical evidence linked her to this most heinous of domestic crimes, culturally inappropriate peripheral behavior led to the lighting of the execution flames.

Early modern women's behavior is explored at length in Sir Philip Sidney's New Arcadia (1593), where a wife's unsanctioned lust for another leads to the "death" of a husband and a conviction on charges of murder. Although Gynecia is ultimately absolved of her crime, her compromised virtue expediently restored, it is not before the text wrestles with cultural mandates dictating female behavior within early modern England. Indeed, it is in the dialogic opposition of two other figures, the highly stylized Parthenia and Cecropia, that we may glimpse the early modern debate over women's behavior. For although Parthenia and Cecropia respectively rehearse the "do's" and "don'ts" of virtuous wife and widow, each likewise questions the viability of a behavioral code for women. Exposed as a static, idealized construct, the code inevitably fails during unscripted moments of everyday experience. The text's problematic resolution to the tortured Gynecia's behavioral dilemma ultimately underscores the necessity of agency w ithin women's lives--be they maids, wives, or widows.

The early modern behavioral code seems to define the text's representation of Arcadian women. When, for example, we first learn of Parthenia, she is presented as the daughter of a "great lady" (1.87--88), whose intrinsic virtue literally informs her physical as well as social being. Michael McCanles observes that "in Parthenia, beauty manifests a fair mind" (1989, 54). She is

speech being as rare as precious; her silence without sullennness; her modesty full of wit, and a wit which delighted more to judge itself than to shew itself: her without affectation; her shamefastness without ignorance; in sum, one that to praise well, one must first set down with himself what it is to be excellent, for so she is. (Sidney 1977, 1.88)

Not only is she physically fair, but she appears to possess in abundance those qualities which comprise the behavioral ideal. Most noticeable is Parthenia's controlled speech. It is as if she measures out her words, speaking only when necessary about topics deemed appropriate to one of her gender and social status. Also noticeable is Parthenia's unparalleled modesty. Along with silence, it indicates behavioral control. As Joan Rees concludes: "As Argalus stands to the male characters in the books, so stands Parthenia to the female, giving an example of unimpugnable excellence" (1991, 52).

As a maid, the virtuous Parthenia is contracted in marriage to Demagoras. "a man mighty in riches and power and proud thereof, stubbornly stout, loving nobody but himself" (Sidney 1977, 1.88). Obedient to her mother's wishes, Parthenia consents to a marriage which neither delights nor favors her. An unexpected meeting with Argalus, however, immediately convinces this otherwise obedient daughter to reject Demagoras's marriage suit. Angered by her rejection, Demagoras retaliates, smearing poison on Parthenia's face. Left scarred by this vicious personal attack, the ever--chaste, silent, and obedient Parthenia unselfishly gives up the one she loves rather than subject him to a lifetime of pity and shame: "Live happy, dear Argalus, I give you full liberty, and I beseech you take it; and I assure you I shall rejoice (whatsoever become of me) to see you so coupled as may be fit both for your honour and satisfaction" (1.92). From her maiden days through her final anguished moments as Argalus's grief--stricken widow, Parthenia is thus set apart from all other women in the Arcadia-- "the perfect picture of a womanly virtue and wifely faithfulness" (1.160).

Parthenia's text, which extols virtuous female behavior, contrasts sharply with that of Cecropia, whose demonized presentation directly opposes the behavioral code. In contrast to Parthenia, Cecropia is represented as a creature of vile and unnatural habits, one whose behavior proves the source of perpetual social contention (1). Even her physical description opposes that of the virtuous Parthenia. Cecropia at the height of her power is styled "dry, lean and yellow" (Sidney 1977, 1.458), one whose reprehensible physical appearance mirrors her vile mischievousness. (2) Physical appearance is not, however, the only characteristic which distinguishes Cecropia from Parthenia: for even from her youth this devilish woman repeatediy defies the code. When wild beasts disrupt a peaceful Arcadian outing, Cecropia is to blame. The same is true when unruly clowns stage a revolt, threatening Arcadian authority. She is, as Lynne Dickson has observed, "a nightmarish image of feminine power anddemonic creation" (1992, 50), o ne whose unchecked political ambition repeatedly threatens the social and political order.

As a maid, Cecropia tells us, she carefully plotted her future. The daughter of a king, this princess agreed to marry the brother of a bachelor king only because his succession to the throne of Arcadia seemed assured. Although Cecropia protests that her now late husband was a worthy successor to the throne, it quickly becomes apparent that his valor interested her less than his advantageous political ranking. As she reminds Amphialus, "for else, you may be sure, the king of Argos nor his daughter would have suffered their royal blood to be stained with the base name of subjection" (Sidney 1977, 3.445). She is of a nature that Vives expressly warns against in his Education of a Christian Woman. "At the beginning of all marriages;' he advises, "women should be warned not to put their love in the fortune of the husband, but rather in the husband himself" (2000, 196). Cecropia's political ambition, however, structures her marital commitment; in essence, the husband becomes secondary to the political office he hol ds.

Once married to the heir apparent, Cecropia's ambition swells to dangerous proportions. As she recounts, "my port and pomp did well become a king of Argos' daughter: in my presence their…