The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
country’s government, and in the place any murder was committed, the
judgment should be given there, before the body was buried, both
concurring in this matter, and already great part of the nobility
being arrived, he delivered the queen to a gentleman of great trust;
and as for Dametas, taking from him the keys of both the lodges,
calling him the moth of his king’s estate, and only spot of his
judgment, he caused him, with his wife and daughter, to be fettered up
in as many chains and clogs as they could bear, and every third hour
to be cruelly whipped, till the determinate judgment should be given
of all these matters. That done, having sent already at his coming, to
all the quarters of the country to seek Pamela, although with small
hope of overtaking them, he himself went well accompanied to the
lodge, where the two unfortunate lovers were attending a cruel
conclusion of their long, painful, and late most painful affection.
Dametas’s clownish eyes, having been the only discoverers of
Pyrocles’s stratagem, had no sooner taken a full view of them, which
in some sights would rather have bred anything, than an accusing mind,
and locked the door upon these two young folks, now made prisoners for
love, as before they had been prisoners to love; but that immediately
upon his going down, whether with noise Dametas made, or with the
creeping in of the light, or rather that as extreme grief had procured
his sleep, so extreme care had measured his sleep, giving his senses
very early salve to come to themselves, Pyrocles awaked, and being up,
the first evil handful he had of the ill case wherein he was, was the
seeing himself deprived of his sword, from which he had never
separated himself in any occasion, and even that night first by the
king’s bed, and then there had laid it, as he thought safe: putting
great part of the trust of his well-doing in his own courage so armed.
For indeed the confidence in one’s self is the chief nurse of
magnanimity, which confidence notwithstanding doth not leave the care
of necessary furnitures for it: and therefore of all the Grecians,
Homer doth ever make Achilles the best armed. But that, as I say, was
the first ill token: but by and by he perceived he was a prisoner
before any arrest: for the door which he had left open was made so
fast of the outside, that for all the force he could employ unto it,
he could not undo Dametas’s doing; then {541} went he to the windows,
to see if that way there were any escape for him and his dear lady.
But as vain he found all his employment there, not having might to
break out but only one bar; wherein notwithstanding he strained his
sinews to the uttermost: and that he rather took out to use for other
service, than for any possibility he had to escape; for even then it
was that Dametas having gathered together the first coming shepherds,
did blabber out what he had found in the lady Philoclea’s chamber.
Pyrocles markingly hearkened to all that Dametas said, whose voice and
mind acquaintance had taught him sufficiently to know. But when he
assuredly perceived that his being with the Lady Philoclea was fully
discovered: and by the folly or malice, or rather malicious folly of
Dametas, her honour therein touched in the highest degree: remembering
withal the cruelty of the Arcadian laws, which without exception did
condemn all to death who were found, as Dametas reported of them, in
act of marriage, without solemnity of marriage, assuring himself,
besides the law, the king and the queen would use so much the more
hate against their daughter, as they had found themselves sotted by
him in the pursuit of their love. Lastly, seeing they were not only in
the way of death, but fitly incaged for death, looking with a hearty
grief upon the honour of love, the fellowless Philoclea, whose
innocent soul now enjoying his own goodness did little know the danger
of his ever fair, then sleeping harbour, his excellent wit
strengthened with virtue, but guided by love, had soon described to
himself a perfect vision of their present condition, wherein having
presently cast a resolute reckoning of his own part of the misery, not
only the chief but sole burden of his anguish consisted in the
unworthy case, which was like to fall upon the best deserving
Philoclea. He saw the misfortune, not the mismeaning of his work, was
like to bring that creature to end, in whom the world, as he thought,
did begin to receive honour: he saw the weak judgment of man would
condemn that as death deserving vice in her, which had in troth never
broken the bonds of a true living virtue: and how oft his eye turned
to his attractive adamant, so often did an unspeakable horror strike
his noble heart to consider so unripe years, so faultless a beauty,
the mansion of so pure goodness, should have her youth so untimely cut
off, her natural perfections so unnaturally consumed, her virtue
rewarded with shame: sometimes he would accuse himself of negligence,
that had not more curiously looked to all the house-entries, and yet
could he not imagine the way Dametas was gotten in: and to call back
what might have been, to a man of wisdom and courage, carries but a
vain shadow of discourse; sometimes he could not choose but with a
dissolution of his inward might lamentably {542} consider with what
face he might look upon his, till then, joy Philoclea, when the next
light waking should deliver unto her, should perchance be the last of
her hurtless life. And that the first time she should bend her
excellent eyes upon him, she should see the accursed author of her
dreadful end, and even this consideration more than any other, did so
set itself in his well-disposed mind, that dispersing his thoughts to
all the ways that might be of her safety, finding a very small
discourse in so narrow limits of time and place, at length in many
difficulties he saw none bear any likelihood for her life, but his
death. For then he thought it would fall out, that when they found his
body dead, having no accuser but Dametas, as by his speech he found
there was not, it might justly appear that either Philoclea in
defending her honour, or else he himself in despairing of achieving,
had left his carcass proof of his intent, but witness of her
clearness. Having a small while stayed upon the greatness of his
resolution, and looked to the furthest of it: “Be it so,” said the
valiant Pyrocles, “never life for better cause, nor to better end was
bestowed; for if death be to follow this doing, which no death of mine
could make me leave undone, who is to die so justly as myself? and if
I must die, who can be so fit executioners as mine own hands, which as
they were accessories to the doing, so in killing me they shall suffer
their own punishment?” but then arose there a new impediment; for
Dametas having carried away anything which he thought might hurt as
tender a man as himself, he could find no fit instrument which might
give him a final dispatch: at length making the more haste, least his
lady should awake, taking the iron bar, which being sharper somewhat
at the one end than the other, he hoped, joined to his willing
strength, might break off the feeble thread of mortality. “Truly,”
said he, “fortune thou hast well preserved mine enemy, that will grant
me no fortune but to be unfortunate, nor let me have an easy passage
now I am to trouble thee no more. But,” said he, “O bar blessed in
that thou hast done service to the chamber of the paragon of life,
since thou couldst not help me to make a perfecter escape, yet serve
my turn I pray thee, that I may escape from myself,” therewithal yet
once looking to fetch the last repass of his eyes, and now again
transported with the pitiful case he left her in, kneeling down he
thus prayed.
“O great maker and great ruler of this world,” said he, “to Thee do I
sacrifice this blood of mine, and suffer, Lord, the errors of my youth
to pass away therein, and let not the soul by Thee made, and ever
bending unto Thee, be now rejected of Thee, neither be offended that I
do abandon this body, to the government of which Thou hadst placed me,
without Thy leave; since how can I know {543} but that Thy
unsearchable mind is I should so do, since Thou hast taken from me all
means longer to abide in it? and since the difference stands but in a
short time of dying, Thou that hast taken from me all means longer to
abide in it? and since the difference stands but in a short time of
dying, Thou that hast framed my soul inclined to do good, how can I in
this small space of mine benefit so much all the human kind, as in
preserving Thy perfectest workmanship, their chiefest honour? O
justice itself, howsoever thou determinest of me, let this excellent
innocency not be oppressed? let my life pay her loss, O Lord give me
some sign that I may die with this comfort.” (And paused a little as
if he had hoped for some token) “and whensoever to the eternal
darkness of the earth she doth follow me, let our spirits possess one
place, and let them be more happy in that uniting.” With that word
striking the bar upon his heart-side, with all the force he had, and
falling withal upon it to give the thorougher passage, the bar in
troth was too blunt to do the effect, although it pierced his skin,
and bruised his ribs very sore, so that his breath was almost past
him. But the noise of his fall drove away sleep from the quiet senses
of the dear Philoclea, whose sweet soul had an early salutation of a
deadly spectacle unto her, with so much more astonishment, as the
falling asleep but a little before she had retired herself from the
utmost point of woefulness, and saw now again before her eyes the most
cruel enterprise that human nature can undertake, without discerning
any cause thereof. But the lively print of her affection had soon
taught her not to stay long upon deliberation in so urgent a
necessity; therefore getting with speed her weak, though well accorded
limbs, out of her sweetened bed, as when jewels are hastily pulled out
of some rich coffer, she spared not the nakedness of her tender feet,
but I think borne as fast with desire as fear carried Daphne, she came
running to Pyrocles, and finding his spirits something troubled with
the fall, she put by the bar that lay close to him, and straining him
in her most beloved embracements: “My comfort, my joy, my life,” said
she, “what haste have you to kill your Philoclea with the most cruel
torment that ever lady suffered? Do you not yet persuade yourself that
any hurt of yours is a death unto me; and that your death should be my
hell. Alas! if any sudden mislike of me, for other cause I see none,
have caused you to loathe yourself; if any fault or defect of mine
hath bred this terrible rage in you, rather let me suffer the
bitterness of it, for so shall the deserver be punished, mankind
preserved from such a ruin, and I for my part shall have that comfort,
that I die by the noblest hand that ever drew sword.” Pyrocles,
grieved with his fortune, that he had not in one instant cut off all
such deliberation, thinking his life only reserved to be bound to be
the {544} unhappy newsteller: “Alas,” said he, “my only star, why do
you this wrong to God, yourself, and me, to speak of faults in you?
No, no, most faultless, most perfect lady, it is your excellency that
makes me hasten my desired end; it is the right I owe to the general
nature, that, though against private nature, makes me seek the
preservation of all that she hath done in this age, let me, let me
die. There is no way to save life, most worthy to be conserved, than
that my death be your clearing.” Then did he with far more pain and
backward loathness, than the so near killing himself was, but yet
driven with necessity to make her yield to that he thought was her