Daily Prompt: "Change"
In the first stanza of one of my favourite English poems, the poet (Thomas Wyatt) laments a change in his fortune. There was a time, he fondly recalls, when he was chased by all sorts of young ladies who now avoid him:
They flee from me that sometime me did seek,
With naked foot, stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame, and meek,
That now are wild and do not remember
That sometime they put themself in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range,
Busily seeking with a continual change.
They find it convenient to forget about him now, but he remains stuck in the past, fondly recalling what had been his good fortune to be sought after:
Thanked be fortune it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better;
One young lady in particular seems to have tickled old Tom Wyatt's fancy:
... but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small;
Therewithall sweetly did me kiss
And softly said, “Dear heart, how like you this?”
Now he, poor deer, is like the hart that "panteth after the water brooks" having been left high and dry by the changing affections of his inconstant lady.
The Lamentations of the Inflexible
What follows are the lamentations of the perennially disappointed chap. You know the sort - or perhaps you too are one of those foolish inflexible fellows who stubbornly disparage "change" and who think there is only one way to deal with the ladies, or with our lady Fortuna.
If so, then beware that you do not end up like old Tom, our poet, living in the past all bitter and twisted and resenting change.
The Facade of Gentleness
In the case of our poet, his unwavering mode of procedure is to deploy a facade of "gentleness":
It was no dream: I lay broad waking.
But all is turned through my gentleness
Into a strange fashion of forsaking;
And I have leave to go of her goodness,
And she also, to use newfangleness.
But since that I so kindly am served
I would fain know what she hath deserved.
In the last couplet the facade has slipped somewhat!
The cause of the poet's failure, I suggest, is not so much his "gentleness," but his inability to change in response to the changing sensibility of the ladies.
At first they too were "gentle" like him but now are "wild" while he remains, or claims to remain, "gentle."
Take a Walk on the Wild Side
In short, having succeeded through "gentleness" he boneheadedly persisted to the point where he became a crashing bore and the ladies, having had a gutful of it, legged it in search of rather more stimulating entertainment, rather like Candy who was everybody's darling...
She says, "Hey babe,
Take a walk on the wild side,"
Said, "Hey babe,
Take a walk on the wild side."
For Everything There Is A Season
The point is not to disparage gentle proceeding per se. There is always a time and a season for gentleness, just as there is for rougher or more dynamic modes of proceeding, as for example in the case of Petruchio in his pursuit of Kate (Taming of the Shrew), or Helena in her pursuit of Bertram (All's Well that Ends Well).
The point is that pursuing a SINGLE mode of action in a world of change is sheer folly, yet an all too prevalent human folly, as Niccolo Machiavalli acknowledges in his little treatise, The Prince.
Niccolo Machiavelli (1469-1527)
And so we come to Old Nick, Niccolo Machiavelli, who wrote on the topic of change and fortune in the 25th chapter of The Prince. In one fine sentence he offers this:
"...se si mutassi di natura con li tempi e con le cose, non si muterebbe fortuna."
"...if one could change one's nature with time and circumstance, (one's good) fortune would never change."
That is the ideal for those with any ambition in this life. However, it's a tough one to live up to because of the force of natural disposition and habit.
Machiavelli lays out some cases in which Fortune may favour one but not another. It goes something like this:
If you rely solely on Fortune, you will be ruined when she changes.
If your mode of procedure accords with the times, you will be fortunate.
If your mode of procedure is opposed to the times, you will be unfortunate.
Opposite modes of procedure employed in different times may achieve similar success.
Similar modes of procedure employed in different times may not achieve similar success.
In the end, according to Machiavelli, Fortune controls at least half of our fate, but by taking precautions and adapting to change, we can seek to control the other half and stay on the good side of that feckless goddess. Remember,
"...se si mutassi di natura con li tempi e con le cose, non si muterebbe fortuna."
Be like Nick, not like Tom.
Cheers!
David Hurley
Bibliography
They Flee From Me, Thomas Wyatt: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/They_Flee_from_Me
Walk on the Wild Side, Lou Reed
The Prince, Niccolo Machiavelli, trans. Luigi Ricci, Penguin
Il Principe, Niccolo Machiavelli, Biblioteca Universale Rizzoli...