The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
belief bound to the report of their partial servant: and therefore as
to their words, she and her sister had ever a simple and true
resolution, so against their unjust force, God, they hoped, would
either arm their lives, or take away their lives. “Well, ladies,” said
he, “I will leave my brothers, who by and by will come unto you to be
their own ambassadors: for my part I must now do myself service.” And
with that turning up his mustaches, and marching as if he would begin
a paven[b3-07], he went toward Zelmane. But Zelmane having heard all
this while of the messenger’s being with Basilius, had much to do to
keep these excellent ladies from seeking by the passport of death to
escape these base dangers whereunto they found themselves subject,
still hoping that Musidorus would find some means to deliver them; and
therefore had often, both by her own example and comfortable reasons,
persuaded them to overpass many insolent indignities of their proud
suitors, who thought it was a sufficient favour not to do the
uttermost injury, now come again to the strait she most feared for
them, either of death or dishonour, if heroical courage would have let
her, she had been beyond herself amazed: but that yet held up her wit,
to attend {423} the uttermost occasion, which even then brought his
hairy forehead unto her: for Zoilus smacking his lips, as for the
prologue of a kiss, and something advancing himself, “Darling,” said
he, “let thy heart be full of joy, and let thy fair eyes be of counsel
with it, for this day thou shalt have Zoilus, whom many have longed
for, but none shall have him but Zelmane. And oh! how much glory I
have to think what a race will be between us? The world, by the
heavens, the world will be too little for them.” And with that he
would have put his arm about her neck; but she withdrawing herself
from him, “My lord,” said she, “much good may your thoughts do you:
but that I may not dissemble with you, my nativity being cast by one
that never failed in any of his prognostications, I have been assured
that I should never be apt to bear children; but since you will honour
me with so high a favour, I must only desire that I may perform a vow,
which I made among my countrywomen, the famous Amazons, that I would
marry none, but such one as was able to withstand me in arms:
therefore, before I make mine own desire serviceable to yours, you
must vouchsafe to lend me armour and weapons, that at least with a
blow or two of the sword I may not find myself perjured to myself.”
But Zoilus, laughing with a hearty loudness, went by force to embrace
her; making no other answer, but since she had a mind to try his
knighthood, she should quickly know what a man of arms he was; and so
without reverence to the ladies, began to struggle with her.
But in Zelmane then disdain became wisdom, and anger gave occasion.
For abiding no longer abode in the matter, she that had not put off,
though she had disguised Pyrocles, being far fuller of stronger
nimbleness, tripped up his feet so that he fell down at hers. And
withal, meaning to pursue what she had begun, pulled out his sword
which he wore about him: but before she could strike him withal, he
got up, and ran to a fair chamber, where he had left his two brethren,
preparing themselves to come down to their mistresses. But she
followed at his heels, and even as he came to throw himself into their
arms for succour, she hit him with his own sword such a blow upon the
waist that she almost cut him asunder: once she sundered his soul from
his body, sending it to Proserpina, an angry goddess against
ravishers. But Anaxius, seeing before his eyes the miserable end of
his brother, fuller of despite than wrath, and yet fuller of wrath
than sorrow, looking with a woeful eye upon his brother Lycurgus;
“Brother,” said he, “chastise this vile creature, while I go down and
take order lest further mischief arise:” and so went down to the
ladies, whom he visited, doubting there had been some further practice
than yet he conceived. But finding them only {424} strong in patience,
he went and locked a great iron gate, by which only anybody might
mount to that part of the castle; rather to conceal the shame of his
brother, slain by a woman, than for doubt of any other annoyance: and
then went up to receive some comfort of the execution, he was sure his
brother had done of Zelmane. But Zelmane no sooner saw these brothers,
of whom reason assured her she was to expect revenge, but that she
leaped to a target, as one that well knew the first mark of valour to
be defence. And then accepting the opportunity of Anaxius going away,
she waited not the pleasure of Lycurgus, but without any words, which
she ever thought vain, when resolution took the place of persuasion,
gave her own heart the contentment to be the assailer. Lycurgus, who
was in the disposition of his nature hazardous, and by the lucky
passing through many dangers, grown confident in himself, went toward
her, rather as to a spoil than to fight; so far from fear, that his
assuredness disdained to hope. But when her sword made demonstrations
above all flattery of arguments, and that he found she pressed so upon
him, as showed that her courage sprang not from blind despair, but was
guarded both with cunning and strength; self-love then first in him
divided itself from vainglory, and made him find that the world of
worthiness had not his whole globe comprised in his breast, but that
it was necessary to have strong resistance against so strong
assailing. And so between them, for a few blows, Mars himself might
have been delighted to look on. But Zelmane, who knew that in her
case, slowness of victory was little better than ruin, with the
bellows of hate blew the fire of courage; and he striking a main blow
at her head, she warded it with the shield, but so warded, that the
shield was cut in two pieces while it protected her: and withal she
ran in to him, and thrusting at his breast, which he put by with his
target, as he was lifting up his sword to strike again, she let fall
the piece of her shield, and with her left hand catching his sword on
the inside of the pommel, with nimble and strong slight she had gotten
his sword out of his hand, before his sense could convey to his
imagination what was to be doubted. And having now two swords against
one shield, meaning not foolishly to be ungrateful to good fortune,
while he was no more amazed with his being unweaponed, than with the
suddenness thereof, she gave him such a wound upon his head, in
despite of the shield’s over-weak resistance, that withal he fell to
the ground astonished with the pain, and aghast with fear. But seeing
Zelmane ready to conclude her victory in his death, bowing up his head
to her with a countenance that had forgotten all pride, “Enough,
excellent lady,” said he, “the honour is yours; whereof you shall want
the best witness if you kill me. {425} As you have taken from men the
glory of manhood, return so now again to your own sex for mercy. I
will redeem my life of you with no small services; for I will
undertake to make my brother obey all your commandments. Grant life, I
beseech you, for your own honour, and for the person’s sake that you
love best.”
Zelmane repressed a while her great heart, either disdaining to be
cruel or pitiful, and therefore not cruel; and now the image of the
human condition began to be an orator unto her of compassion, when she
saw, as if he lifted up his arms with a suppliant’s grace about one of
them, unhappily tied a garter with a jewel, which, given to Pyrocles
by his aunt of Thessalia, and greatly esteemed by him, he had
presented to Philoclea, and with inward rage promising extreme hatred,
had seen Lycurgus with a proud force, and not without some hurt to
her, pull away from Philoclea, because at entreaty she would not give
it him. But the sight of that was like a cypher, signifying all the
injuries which Philoclea had of him suffered, and that remembrance
feeding upon wrath, trod down all conceits of mercy. And therefore
saying no more, but, “No, villain, die: it is Philoclea that sends
thee this token for thy love.” With that she made her sword drink the
blood of his heart, though he wresting his body, and with a
countenance prepared to excuse, would fain have delayed the receiving
of death’s ambassadors. But neither stayed Zelmane’s hand, nor yet
Anaxius’s cry unto her; who having made fast the iron gate, even then
came to the top of the stairs, when contrary to all his imaginations,
he saw his brother lie at Zelmane’s mercy. Therefore crying,
promising, and threatening to her to hold her hand: the last groan of
his brother was the only answer he could get to his unrespected
eloquence. But then pity would fain have drawn tears, which fury in
their spring dried; and anger would fain have spoken, but that disdain
sealed up his lips; but in his heart he blasphemed heaven, that it
could have such a power over him, no less ashamed of the victory he
should have of her, than of his brother’s overthrow: and no more
spited that it was yet unrevenged, than that the revenge should be no
greater than a woman’s destruction. Therefore with no speech, but such
a groaning cry as often is the language of sorrowful anger, he came
running at Zelmane; use of fighting then serving instead of patient
consideration what to do. Guided wherewith, though he did not with
knowledge, yet he did according to knowledge, pressing upon Zelmane in
such a well-defended manner, that in all the combats that ever she had
fought, she had never more need of quick senses, and ready virtue. For
being one of the greatest men of stature then living; as he did fully
answer that stature in greatness of might; so did he exceed both in
greatness of {426} courage, which with a countenance formed by the
nature both of his mind and body, to an almost horrible fierceness,
was able to have carried fear to any mind that was not privy to itself
of a true and constant worthiness. But Pyrocles, whose soul might well
be separated from his body, but never alienated from the remembering
of what was comely, if at the first he did a little apprehend the
dangerousness of his adversary, whom once before he had something
tried, and now perfectly saw as the very picture of forcible fury; yet
was that apprehension quickly stayed in him, rather strengthening than
weakening his virtue by that wrestling, like wine growing the stronger
by being moved. So that they both prepared in hearts, and able in
hands, did honour solitariness there with such a combat, as might have
demanded, as a right of fortune, whole armies of beholders. But no
beholders needed there, where manhood blew the trumpet, and
satisfaction did whet as much as glory. There was strength against
nimbleness: rage against resolution; fury against virtue; confidence
against courage; pride against nobleness: love in both breeding mutual
hatred, and desire of revenging the injuries of his brother’s
slaughter, to Anaxius, being like Philoclea’s captivity to Pyrocles.
Who had seen the one, would have thought nothing could have resisted:
who had marked the other, would have marvelled that the other had so
long resisted. But like two contrary tides, either of which are able
to carry worlds of ships and men upon them, with such swiftness that
nothing seems able to withstand them, yet meeting one another, with
mingling their watery forces, and struggling together, it is long to
say, whether stream gets the victory; so between these, if Pallas had
been there, she could scarcely have told, whether she had nursed
better in the feats of arms. The Irish greyhound against the English
mastiff; the sword-fish against the whale; the rhinoceros against the
elephant, might be models, and but models of this combat. Anaxius was