The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
Now the black knight, purposing to depart before Philanax arrived,
brought his companion, the knight of the pole, as a partner of his
victory, to kiss the ladies’ hands extenuating his own part, and
preferring his: Those who have true worth in themselves, can never
envy it in another. Thereafter advising him privately to have their
little company in a readiness, he went with an uncounterfeited {448}
reverence, humbling himself before the idol of his soul, to know her
will: telling her what he had done, being only done for her, he would
attend thanks from no other; neither would he be known till he might
be known for hers: and she, her countenance rather lightening courtesy
than affection, desired him to return to his old master, and he should
be restored to the estate which by his fault he had before justly
forfeited; wishing that he would carry himself more moderately
hereafter, if he would not incur her indignation, and raise all regard
of him out of her memory.
Then Musidorus, as contented as one who had been brought from hell to
heaven, with many vehement attestations to win trust with her, and
imprecations against himself in case of perjury, wished, if ever his
mind were so unhappy as to be surprised by any purpose tending in the
least degree to grieve her, that he might never live till it took
effect, but die ere it were discovered. And like a wary gamester, who
having once advantage is loth to adventure again, willing to seal up
his ears with the acceptable sounds which they had received, he took
leave, leaving his heart with her, and taking hers with him. Then went
he towards Pyrocles, the joy of his heart shining through his face,
and acquainted him with his unwilling absenting himself, referring all
further conference till their meeting at the arbour. And having in a
complimental manner craved, but not desired employment from Philoclea,
in any service after the funerals were performed, he marched with his
troop away, the most part thinking that he went to meet Philanax:
whilst Pamela from a window followed with her eyes, till clouds of
dust did bury their object in the air.
Soon after their departure from the castle, about this time, Philanax
arrived, who, immediately after he had received the castle in the
king’s name, sought for the knight, whose gift, though not given by
him, he esteemed it to be. For he, being generously judicious, thought
it more fit that princes should defray obligations by rewards, every
man being inferior to him to whom he stands indebted, than to be
behind with any by being beholden; and hearing that he was gone by
public enquiry for him, and praises of him, he witnessed to the world
how highly his valour was valued. After he had saluted the princesses,
he visited Zelmane, and told her how careful his master was to have
those wounds cured, which in his service had been procured, that
thereafter he might otherwise express his gratefulness. But Zelmane
affirmed that though that blood which was shed had been followed by
all the rest of her body; with the king’s former courtesies towards
her, the deserving by the recompense was both preceded and exceeded.
Then Philanax, loth to strive with deeds in words, {449} desired her,
if her health might serve, to provide for her removing with the rest
to-morrow, otherwise, that should be done for her which she herself
would direct.
Immediately after his departure Zelmane arose; and having apparelled
herself, began to walk, not so much to try how she might comport with
the intended journey, as that she might pretend any means which might
afford her the satisfaction of Philoclea’s presence; where, violently
carried by her thoughts, she came soon, but not so soon as she wished,
and was wished: where Pamela apart entertaining her thoughts, she thus
entered with Philoclea: “Dear love, Oh in what an ocean of troubles
doth our estate continually float, yet hath never so much as attained
the sight of any secure port. I see that this freedom will but bring
us to a greater bondage: we are led from captivity, only to become
captives. For where before those senseless walls were thought
sufficient to guard us, we shall be watched now by one more jealous
than Juno, with more eyes than ever Argus had. I would willingly
convey you where I might enjoy you, and you a kingdom: but this, my
infirmity first hindered, and the coming of Philanax hath altogether
prevented. In the meantime, till for performing of that, a longed for
occasion come, I must arm myself against your father’s folly, and your
mother’s fury. The one’s might easily be deluded, but the other’s
cannot be resisted, but by a show of yielding, which I must cunningly
counterfeit: and therefore trust no external show; for whoever have my
countenance, you have my heart.” Philoclea’s words were, that she
cared not where she went, so it were with him, nor what she did, so it
were warranted by his direction, as bent rather to burn her breast,
than to let it lodge any thought which durst but doubt of the
sufficiency of his intentions, since whatever circle they made, having
always for their centre the excellency of his own worth. So parting,
as if they had been to go to live in sundry kingdoms; though going to
live in one company, night invited them to repose.
The next morning being saluted by the trumpet’s sounds, and all ready
to remove, they were quickly transported over the lake; and as
quickly, when landed, mounted by the provident care of Philanax, to
finish their journey. But ere they came two or three miles off the
lodges, Basilius met them, who embraced his daughters; not that he
would go first to them, but that he would be last with Zelmane, whom
he had kissed with his eyes, ere his lips were drawn from his
daughters. And as soon as he had shown as much affection, encountering
her, as his state before so many would permit: he said, that
notwithstanding her countenance was the treasure in the world whereof
he was most covetous, {450} yet it grieved him that another should be
so happy as to have procured her liberty rather than himself; and that
it was his purpose, as a private adventurer, to have manifested his
affection, fighting as a knight, not as a king, for her delivery.
Zelmane replying, that it had been against all reason, that so great a
prince, on whom the lives of so many did depend, should have been
hazarded for the life of one whose fall could extend no further than
to her own ruin: “Your ruin,” said he, “I wish that mine were first;
for it could not but follow after. And do not think that the black
knight, or any other durst do more for you than I: yet such is the
miserable estate of us kings, that we cannot prove men, but are
compelled to move in our own sphere.”
The journey’s end cutting off their discourse, Gynecia was waiting on
their alighting, and having first duty--tyrannizing over
affection--carelessly kissed Pamela, disdainfully Philoclea, and
vehemently Zelmane, thereafter enquiring of her wounds, thanks (though
bestowing nothing defraying much) were courteously returned for the
balm which was sent; she protesting that if no other thing could help,
she would pull out her own heart, when Basilius interrupted them,
coming to have lightened his heart, by burdening his body with his
mistress’s alighting.
Dametas came starting and leaping like a giddy kid to meet with
Pamela; and as soon as she was alighted, for the first salutation,
told her how much she was beholden to him, having shown his manhood
and goodwill as much as the best fellow in these bounds could have
done, swearing that he had ventured more for her than he would do for
all the world again, and for his own life too; “Aye,” quoth he, “and
when my man Dorus durst not be seen, who was thought a brave fellow,
yet he feigned a business far from the noise of war, to seek sheep;
but the truth is, to hide himself, whilst my deeds made all our army
laugh for joy: so that during all that time of trouble, which I
tremble yet to think upon, I never heard of him, till even now he sent
me word by a shepherd, whom he met on the way, that he had found the
ewes which had strayed, with great difficulty, and was driving them at
leisure, for fear they should miscarry. But when he comes, I promise I
will make his cowardice be known for leaving me, when I would fain
have left myself for fear.” “O but,” said Pamela, “you must not be
offended, though every man be not so stout as you are; he may be an
evil soldier, but yet a good shepherd: and I hope you keep him that he
may keep sheep, not that he may kill men.” “Now in good faith,” said
he, “I see you are not changed, for you were ever wise, and so you do
continue still. I may well chide the fellow, but I will not beat him.”
{451}
Then all entering the lodge with Basilius, though the supper was
ready, Gynecia would dress Zelmane’s wounds first, and Basilius would
see them dressed; so by his despised importunateness restraining the
torrent of Gynecia’s passions, which would but burst forth more
furiously thereafter. This freeing Zelmane’s ears at that time, was
but a relief to her, as they find who expel poison by counterpoison,
she being as weary of him, as afraid of the other.
Then sitting down to the supper, more curious of a surfeit to their
eyes, than for their sustenance to the rest of the body: the eyes of
Basilius were ever feeding on the face of Zelmane with a fearful
earnestness, save sometimes when they were constrained to retire by
the violence of his wife’s looks, thinking that they with a jealous
anger had upbraided his error, which she, otherwise busied, had never
so much as observed. The one of her eyes was settled like a fixed star
on Zelmane, the other like a wandering comet threatening confusion
where it shined, strayed betwixt Zelmane, and her daughter Philoclea,
watching and chastising with her look her stolen looks. Zelmane’s
languishing lights made the table envied, whilst her dejected looks
did only bless it, as scorning to look on any, since she might not
look where she liked. Philoclea chained by thoughts to Zelmane, did
imitate her being pensive, because she was pensive: yet like a cunning
painter, who having fully fed his eyes with the affected object, turns
back within himself, that his imagination may engrave it the more
exactly within his memory, she would sometimes with a thievishly
adventurous look spy Zelmane’s gesture, that she might the better
counterfeit it in her countenance. As for Pamela, she kept her
accustomed majesty, being absent where she was, and present where she
was not. Then, the supper being ended, after some ambiguous speeches,
which might, for fear of being mistaken, be taken in two senses, or
else were altogether estranged from the speaker’s mind; speaking as in
a dream, not what they thought, but what they would be thought to
think: everyone retired to the lodge where they had used afore to lie;
Basilius having first invited them the next morning to see a pastoral
represented by the ordinary shepherds, to congratulate their
prosperous return.
* * *[b3-09]
{452}
After that Basilius, according to the oracle’s promise, had received
home his daughters, and settled himself again in his solitary course
and accustomed company, there passed not many days ere the now fully
recomforted Dorus, having waited a time of Zelmane’s walking alone
towards her little arbour took leave of his master Dametas’s husbandry
to follow her. Near whereunto overtaking her, and sitting down
together among the sweet flowers, whereof that place was very
plentiful, under the pleasant shade of a broad leaved sycamore, they
recounted one to another their strange pilgrimage of passions,
omitting nothing which open hearted friendship is wont to lay forth,
where there is cause to communicate both joys and sorrows, for indeed