The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
universal case of Greece, deprived by this means of a principal
pillar, he weighed and pitied the pitiful state of the Arcadian
people, who were in worse case than if death had taken away their
prince. For so yet their necessity would have placed someone to the
helm; now, a prince being, and not doing like a prince, keeping and
not exercising the place, they were in so much more evil case, as they
could not provide for their evil.
These rightly wise and virtuous considerations especially moved
Euarchus to take his journey towards the deserts, where arriving
within night, and understanding to his great grief the news of the
{584} prince’s death, he waited for his safe conduct from Philanax; in
the meantime taking his rest under a tree, with no more affected pomps
than as a man that knew, howsoever he was exalted, the beginning and
end of his body was earth. But Philanax as soon as he was in sight of
him, alighting from his horse, presented himself unto him in all those
humble behaviours, which not only the great reverence of the party,
but the conceit of one’s own misery, is wont to frame: Euarchus rose
up unto him, with so gracious a countenance, as the goodness of his
mind had long exercised him unto; careful so much more to descend in
all courtesies, as he saw him bear a low representation of his
afflicted state. But to Philanax, as soon as by near looking on him,
he might perfectly behold him, the gravity of his countenance and
years, not much unlike to his late deceased, but ever beloved master,
brought his form so lively into his memory, and revived so all the
thoughts of his wonted joys within him, that instead of speaking to
Euarchus, he stood a while like a man gone a far journey from himself,
calling as it were with his mind an account of his losses, imagining
that this pain needed not, if nature had not been violently stopped of
her own course; and casting more loving than wise conceits, what a
world would this have been if this sudden accident had not interrupted
it. And so far strayed he into his raving melancholy that his eyes,
nimbler than his tongue, let fall a flood of tears, his voice being
stopped with extremity of sobbing, so much had his friendship carried
him to Basilius that he thought no age was timely for his death. But
at length taking the occasion of his own weeping, he thus did speak to
Euarchus: “Let not my tears, most worthily renowned prince, make my
presence unpleasant, or my speech unmarked of you. For the justice of
the cause takes away the blame of any weakness in me; and the affinity
that the same beareth to your greatness, seems even lawfully to claim
pity in you: a prince of a prince’s fall, a lover of justice, of a
most unjust violence. And give me leave, excellent Euarchus, to say, I
am but the representer of all the late flourishing Arcadia, which now
with mine eyes doth weep, with my tongue doth complain, with my knees
doth lay itself at your feet, which never have been unready to carry
you to the virtuous protecting of innocents. Imagine, vouchsafe to
imagine, most wise and good king, that here is before your eyes the
pitiful spectacle of a most dolorously ending tragedy; wherein I do
but play the part of all the new miserable province, which being
spoiled of their guide, doth lie like a ship without a pilot, tumbling
up and down in the uncertain waves, till it either run itself upon the
rocks of self-division, or be overthrown by the stormy wind of foreign
force. Arcadia finding herself in these desolate terms, doth speak,
and I speak for her, to thee not vainly {585} puissant prince, that
since now she is not only robbed of the natural support of her lord,
but so suddenly robbed that she hath not breathing time to stand for
her safety: so unfortunately, that it doth appall their minds, though
they had leisure; and so mischievously, that it doth exceed both the
suddenness and unfortunateness of it; thou wilt lend thine arm unto
her, and, as a man, take compassion of mankind; as a virtuous man,
chastise most abominable vice; and as a prince protect a people, which
all have with one voice called for thy goodness, thinking that as thou
art only able, so thou art fully able, to redress their imminent
ruins. They do therefore with as much confidence as necessity, fly
unto you for succour, they lay themselves open unto you: to you, I
mean yourself such as you have ever been: that is to say, one that
hath always had his determinations bounded with equity. They only
reserve the right to Basilius’s blood; the manner to the ancient
prescribing of their laws. For the rest without exception they yield
over unto you, as to the elected protector of this kingdom, which name
and office they beseech you, till you have laid a sufficient
foundation of tranquility, to take upon you; the particularity both of
their statutes and demands you shall presently after understand. Now
only I am to say unto you, that this country falls to be a fair field,
to prove whether the goodly tree of your virtue will live in all
soils. Here I say will be seen, whether either fear can make you
short, or the lickerishness of dominion make you beyond justice. And I
can for conclusion say no more but this, you must think upon my words,
and on your answer depends not only the quiet, but the lives of so
many thousands, which for their ancient confederacy, in this their
extreme necessity, desire neither the expense of your treasure, nor
hazard of your subjects, but only the benefit of your wisdom, whose
both glory and increase stands in the exercising of it.”
The sum of this request was utterly unlooked for of Euarchus, which
made him the more diligent in marking his speech, and after his speech
take the greater pause for a perfect resolution. For as of the one
side, he thought nature required nothing more of him than that he
should be a help to them of like creation, and had his heart no wit
commanded with fear, thinking his life well passed, having satisfied
the tyranny of time, with the course of many years, the expectation of
the world with more than expected honour: lastly, the tribute due to
his own mind, with the daily offering of most virtuous actions: so of
the other he weighed the just reproach that followed those who easily
enter into other folk’s business, with the opinion might be conceived,
love of seigniory rather than of justice, had made him embark himself
thus into a matter nothing pertaining to him, especially in a time
when earnest {586} occasion of his own business so greatly required
his presence. But in the end, wisdom being an essential and not an
opinionate thing, made him rather to bend to what was in itself good
than what by evil minds might be judged not good. And therein did see
that though the people did not belong unto him, yet doing good, which
is not enclosed within any terms of people, did belong unto him, and
if necessity forced him for some time to abide in Arcadia, the
necessity of Arcadia might justly demand some fruit of abiding. To
this secret assurance of his own worthiness, which although it be
never so well clothed in modesty, yet always lives in the worthiest
minds, did much push him forward, saying unto himself, the treasure of
those inward gifts he had were bestowed by the heavens upon him to be
beneficial and not idle. On which determination resting, and yet
willing before he waded any further, to examine well the depth of the
other’s proffer; he thus with that well-poised gesture, unpassionate
nature bestoweth upon mankind, made answer to Philanax’s most urgent
petition.
“Although long experience hath made me know all men, and so princes
which be but men, to be subject to infinite casualties, the very
constitution of our lives remaining in continual change: yet the
affairs of this country, or at least my meeting so jumply with them,
makes me abashed with the strangeness of it. With much pain am I come
hither to see my long approved friend, and now I find if I will see
him, I must see him dead: after, for mine own security, I seek to be
warranted mine own life; and there suddenly am I appointed to be a
judge of other men’s lives: though a friend to him, yet am I a
stranger to the country, and now of a stranger you would suddenly make
a director. I might object, to your desire, my weakness, which age
perhaps hath wrought in mind and body: and justly I may pretend the
necessity of mine own affairs, to which as I am by all true rules most
nearly tied, so can they not long bear the delay of my absence. But
though I would and could dispense with these difficulties, what
assurance can I have of the people’s will? which having so many
circles of imaginations can hardly be enclosed in one point. Who knows
a people, that knows not sudden opinion makes them hope, which hope if
it be not answered, they fall into hate, choosing and refusing,
erecting, and overthrowing, according as the presentness of any fancy
carries them. Even this their hasty drawing to me, makes me think they
will be as hastily withdrawn from me; for it is but one ground of
inconstancy, soon to take or soon to leave. It may be they have heard
of Euarchus more than cause: their own eyes will be perhaps more
curious judges, out of hearsay they may have builded many conceits,
which I cannot, perchance will not, perform, then will undeserved
{587} repentance be a greater shame and injury unto me than their
undeserved proffer is honour. And to conclude, I must be fully
informed how the patient is minded, before I can promise to undertake
the cure.”
Philanax was not of the modern minds, who made suitors magistrates;
but did ever think the unwilling worthy man, was fitter than the
undeserving desirer. Therefore the more Euarchus drew back, the more
he found in him, that the cunningest pilot doth most dread the rocks,
the more earnestly he pursued his public request unto him. He desired
him not to make any weak excuses of his weakness, since so many
examples had well proved his mind was strong to overpass the greatest
troubles, and his body strong enough to obey his mind: and that so
long as they were joined together, he knew Euarchus would think it no
wearisome exercise, to make them vessels of virtuous actions. The duty
to his country he acknowledged, which as he had so settled as it was
not to fear any sudden alteration, so since it did want him, as well
it might endure a fruitful as an idle absence. As for the doubt he
conceived of the people’s constancy in this their election, he said it
was such a doubt as all human actions are subject unto; yet as much as
in politic matters, which receive not geometrical certainties, a man
may assure himself there was evident likelihood to be conceived of the
continuance, both in their unanimity, and his worthiness; whereof the
one was apt to be held, and the other to hold, joined to the present
necessity the firmest band of mortal minds. In some he alleged so many
reasons to Euarchus’s mind, already inclined to enter into any
virtuous action, that he yielded to take upon himself the judgment of
the present cause; so as he might find indeed, that such was the
people’s desire out of judgment, and not faction.
Therefore mounting on their horses, they hasted to the lodges, where
they found, though late in the night, the people wakefully watching
for the issue of Philanax’s embassage. No man thinking the matter
would be well done, without he had his voice in it, and each deeming
his own eyes the best guardians of his throat in that unaccustomed
tumult. But when they saw Philanax return, having on his right hand
the King Euarchus, on whom they had now placed the greatest burden of
their fears, with joyful shouts, and applauding acclamations, they
made him and the world quickly know, that one man’s sufficiency is