The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
him a perfect good opinion of her, and then as she should learn how
things had passed, to take into herself new devised counsel: but this
being her first action, having given unlooked for attendance to the
king, she heard with what partiality he did prefer her to herself, she
saw in him how much fancy doth {532} not only darken reason, but
beguile sense, she found opinion mistress of the lover’s judgment,
which serving as a good lesson to her good conceit, she went out to
Basilius, setting herself in a grave behaviour and stately silence
before him; until he (who at the first thinking her by so much shadow
as he could see to be Zelmane, was beginning his loving ceremonies)
did now being helped by the peeping light wherewith the morning did
overcome the night’s darkness, know her face and his error, which
acknowledging in himself with starting back from her, she thus with a
modest bitterness spoke unto him: “Alas! my Lord, well did your words
decipher your mind, and well be those words confirmed with this
gesture. Very loathsome must that woman be from whom a man hath cause
to go back; and little better liked is that wife, before whom the
husband prefers them he never knew. Alas! hath my faithful observing
my part of duty made you think yourself ever a whit the more exempted?
hath that which should claim gratefulness, been a cause of contempt?
Is the being mother of Pamela become an odious name unto you? if my
life hitherto led have not avoided suspicion, if my violated truth to
you be deserving of any punishment, I refuse not to be chastised with
the most cruel torment of your displeasure; I refuse not misery,
purchased by mine own merit. Hard I must needs say (although till now
I never thought I should have had cause to say) is the destiny of
womankind, the trial of whose virtue must stand upon the loving of
them that employ all their industry not to be beloved. If Zelmane’s
young years had not had so much gravity hidden under a youthful face,
as your gray hairs have been but the vizor of unfitting youthfulness,
your vicious mind had brought some fruits of repentance, and Gynecia
might then have been with much more right so basely despised.”
Basilius, that was more ashamed to see himself overtaken, than Vulcan
was, when with much cunning he proved himself a cuckold, began to make
certain extravagant excuses: but the matter in itself hardly brooking
any purgation, with the suddenness of the time, which barred any good
conjoined invention, made him sometimes allege one thing, to which by
and by, he would bring in a contrary, one time with flat denial,
another time with mitigating the fault; now brave, then humble, use
such a stammering defensive that Gynecia, the violence of whose sore
indeed ran another way, was content thus to fasten up the last stitch
of her anger. “Well, well, my Lord,” said she, “it shall well become
you to govern yourself, as you may be fit rather to direct me than to
be judged of me, and rather to be a wise master of me, that an
unskilful pleader before me. Remember the wrong you have done, is not
only to me, but to your children whom you {533} had of me: to your
country, when they shall find they are commanded by him that cannot
command his own indecent appetites: lastly, to yourself, since with
these pains you do but build up a house of shame to dwell in: if from
those movable goods of nature (wherewith, in my first youth my royal
parents bestowed me upon you) bearing you children, and increase of
years have withdrawn me, consider I pray you that as you are the cause
of the one, so in the other, time hath not left to work his
never-failing effects in you. Truly, truly, Sir, very untimely are
these fires in you; it is time for us both to let reason enjoy his due
sovereignty. Let us not plant anew those weeds, which by nature’s
course are content to fade.”
Basilius that would rather than his life the matter had been ended,
the best rhetoric he had, was flat demanding pardon of her, swearing
it was the very force of Apollo’s destiny which had carried him thus
from his own bias; but that now like as far travellers were taught to
love their own country, he had such a lesson without book, of
affection unto her, as he would repay the debt of this error with the
interest of a great deal more true honour than ever before he had done
her. “Neither am I to give pardon to you, my Lord,” said she, “nor you
to bear honour to me. I have taken this boldness for the unfeigned
love I owe unto you, to deliver my sorrow unto you; much more for the
care I have of your well-doing, than for any other self-fancy. For
well I know that by your good estate my life is maintained, neither,
if I would, can I separate myself from your fortune. For my part
therefore I claim nothing but that which may be safest for yourself;
my life, will, honour, and whatsoever else, shall be but a shadow of
that body.” How much Basilius’s own shame had found him culpable, and
had already even in soul read his own condemnation, so much did this
unexpected mildness of Gynecia captive his heart unto her, which
otherwise perchance would have grown to a desperate carelessness.
Therefore embracing her, and confessing that her virtue shined in his
vice, he did even with a true resolved mind vow unto her, that as long
as he, unworthy of her, did live, she should be the furthest and only
limit of his affection. He thanked the destinies that had wrought her
honour out of his shame, and that made his own striving to go amiss,
to be the best means ever after to hold him in the right path. Thus
reconciled to Basilius’s great contentation, who began something to
mark himself in his own doings his hard hap guided his eye to the cup
of gold wherein Gynecia had put the liquor meant for Zelmane, and
having failed of that guest, was now carrying it home again. But he
whom perchance sorrow, perchance some long disaccustomed pains, had
made extremely thirsty, took it out of her hands, although she {534}
directly told him both of whom she had it, what the effect of it was,
and the little proof she had seen thereof: hiding nothing from him,
but that she meant to minister it to another patient. But the king,
whose belly had no ears, and much drought kept from the desiring a
taster, finding it not unpleasant to his palate, drank it almost off,
leaving very little to cover the cup’s bottom. But within a while that
from his stomach the drink had delivered to his principal veins his
noisome vapours, first with a painful stretching, and forced yawning,
then with a dark yellowness dying his skin, and a cold deadly sweat
principally about his temples, his body by natural course longing to
deliver his heavy burden to his earthly dam, wanting force in his
knees, which utterly abandoned him, with a heavy fall gave some proof
whether the operation of that unknown potion tended. For, with
pang-like groans, and ghastly turning of his eyes, immediately all his
limbs stiffened, and his eyes fixed, he having had time to declare his
case only in these words: “O Gynecia, I die; have care.” Of what, or
how much further he would have spoken, no man can tell: For Gynecia
having well perceived the changing of his colour, and those other evil
signs, yet had not looked for such a sudden overthrow, but rather had
bethought herself what was best for him, when she suddenly saw the
matter come to that period, coming to him, and neither with any cries
getting a word of him, nor with any other possible means, able to
bring any living action from him; the height of all ugly sorrows did
so horribly appear before her amazed mind, that at the first it did
not only distract all power of speech from her, but almost wit to
consider, remaining as it were quick buried in a grave of miseries.
Her painful memory had straight filled her with the true shapes of all
the fore-past mischiefs; her reason began to cry out against the
filthy rebellion of sinful sense, and to tear itself with anguish for
having made so weak a resistance, her conscience a terrible witness of
the inward wickedness, still nourishing this debateful fire; her
complaint now not having an end to be directed unto, from something to
disburthen sorrow, but a necessary downfall of inward wretchedness.
She saw the rigour of the laws was like to lay a shameful death upon
her, which being for that action undeserved, made it the more
insupportable, and yet in depth of her soul most deserved, made it
more miserable. At length, letting her tongue go as dolorous thoughts
guided it, she thus with lamentable demeanour spoke:
“O bottomless pit of sorrow, in which I cannot contain myself, having
the firebrands of all furies within me, still falling, and yet by the
infiniteness of it never fallen. Neither can I rid myself, being
fettered with the everlasting consideration of it. For {535} whither
should I recommend the protection of my dishonored fall? to the earth?
it hath no life, and waits to be increased by the relics of my shamed
carcass: to men? who are always cruel in their neighbour’s faults, and
make others’ overthrow become the badge of their ill-masked virtue? to
the heavens? O unspeakable torment of conscience, which dare not look
unto them. No sin can enter there, O there is no receipt for polluted
minds. Whither then wilt thou lead this captive of thine, O snaky
despair! Alas, alas, was this the free-holding power that accursed
poison hath granted unto me, that to be held the surer it should
deprive life? was this the folding in mine arms promised, that I
should fold nothing but a dead body, O mother of mine what a dreadful
suck have you given me? O Philoclea, Philoclea, well hath my mother
revenged upon me my unmotherly hating of thee. O Zelmane, to whom yet,
lest any misery should fail me, remain some sparks of my detestable
love, if thou hast, as now alas! now my mind assures me thou hast,
deceived me, there is a fair stage prepared for thee, to see the
tragical end of thy hated lover.” With that word there flowed out two
rivers of tears out of her fair eyes, which before were dry, the
remembrance of her other mischiefs being dried up in a furious fire of
self detestation, love only, according to the tempter of it, melting
itself into those briny tokens of passion. Then turning her eyes again
upon the body, she remembered a dream she had had some nights before,
wherein thinking herself called by Zelmane, passing a troublesome
passage; she found a dead body which told her there should be her only
rest: This no sooner caught hold of her remembrance, than she
determined with herself, it was a direct vision of her fore-appointed
end, took a certain resolution to embrace death, as soon as it should
be offered unto her, and no way seek the prolonging of her annoyed
life. And therefore kissing the cold face of Basilius; “And even so
will I rest,” said she, “and join this faulty soul of mine to thee, if
so much the angry gods will grant me.”
As she was in this plight, the sun now climbing over the horizon; the
first shepherds came by, who seeing the king in that case, and hearing
the noise Dametas made of the Lady Philoclea, ran with the doleful
tidings of Basilius’s death unto him, who presently with all his
company came to the cave’s entry, where the king’s body lay; Dametas
for his part more glad for the hope he had of his private escape, than
sorry for the public loss of his country received for a prince not to
be misliked. But in Gynecia nature prevailed above judgment, and the
shame she conceived to be taken in that order, overcame for that
instant the former resolution; so that as soon as she saw the foremost
of the pastoral troop, the wretched princess ran to have hid her face
in the next woods; but with such {536} a mind, that she knew not
almost herself what she could wish to be the ground of her safety.