The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
answered, according to their agreements, that they were Daiphantus of
Lycia, and Palladius Prince of Iberia. Which when they had said, they
demanded to know by what authority they could judge of them, since
they were not only foreigners, and so not born under their laws, but
absolute princes, and therefore not to be touched by laws. But answer
was presently made them that Arcadian laws were to have their force
upon any found in Arcadia: since strangers have scope to know the
customs of a country, before they put themselves in it: and when they
once are entered, they must know that what by many was made must not
for one be broken. And so much less for a stranger, as he is to look
for no privilege in that place, to which in time of need his service
is not to be expected. As for their being princes, whether they were
so or no, the belief stood in their own words, which they had so
diversly falsified, as they did not deserve belief. But whatsoever
they were, Arcadia was to acknowledge them but as private men, since
they were neither by magistracy nor alliance to the princely blood, to
claim anything in that region. Therefore if they had offended, which
now by the plaintiff and their defence was to be judged, against the
laws of nations, by {605} the laws of nations they were to be
chastised: if against the peculiar ordinances of the province, those
peculiar ordinances were to lay hold of them.
The princes stood a while upon that, demanding leisure to give perfect
knowledge of their greatness; but when they were answered, that in a
case of the prince’s death, the law of that country had ever been that
immediate trial should be had, they were forced to yield, resolved
that in those names they would as much as they could cover the shame
of their royal parentage, and keep as long as might be, if evil were
determined against them, the evil news from their careful kinsfolks,
wherein the chief man they considered was Euarchus: whom the strange
and secret working of justice had brought to be the judge over them.
In such a shadow, or rather pit of darkness, the wormish mankind
lives, that neither they know how to foresee, nor what to fear, and
are but like tennis balls, tossed by the racket of the higher powers.
Thus both sides ready, it was determined, because their cases were
separated, first Philanax should be heard against Pyrocles, whom they
termed Daiphantus, and that heard, the other’s cause should follow,
and so receive together such judgment as they should be found to have
deserved.
But Philanax that was even short-breathed at the first, with the
extreme vehemency he had to speak against them, stroking once or twice
his forehead, and wiping his eyes, which either wept, or he would at
that time have them seem to weep, looking first upon Pyrocles, as if
he had proclaimed all hatefulness against him, humbly turning to
Euarchus, who with quiet gravity showed great attention, he thus began
his oration: “That which all men, who take upon them to accuse
another, are wont to desire, most worthy protector, to have many
proofs of faults in them they seek to have condemned, that is to me in
this present action my greatest cumber and annoyance. For the number
is so great, and the quality so monstrous of the enormities this
wretched young man hath committed, that neither I in myself can tell
where to begin, my thoughts being confused with the horrible multitude
of them, neither do I think your virtuous ears will be able to endure
the report, but will rather imagine you hear some tragedy invented of
the extremity of wickedness, than a just recital of a wickedness
indeed committed: for such is the disposition of the most sincere
judgments, that as they can believe mean faults, and such as man’s
nature may slide into, so when they pass to a certain degree, nay,
when they pass all degrees of unspeakable naughtiness, then find they
in themselves a hardness to give credit that human creatures can so
from all humanity be transformed. But in myself the strength of my
faith to my dead master will help the weakness of my memory; in {606}
you, your excellent love of justice will force you to vouchsafe
attention: and as for the matter, it is so manifest, so pitiful
evidences lie before your eyes of it, that I shall need to be but a
brief recounter, and no rhetorical enlarger of this most harmful
mischief. I will therefore, in as few words as so huge a trespass can
be obtained, deliver unto you the sum of this miserable fact: leaving
out a great number of particular tokens of his naughtiness, and only
touching the essential points of this doleful case. This man, whom to
begin withal I know not how to name, since being come into this
country, unaccompanied like a lost pilgrim, from a man grew a woman,
from a woman a ravisher of women, thence a prisoner, and now a prince:
but this Zelmane, this Daiphantus, this what you will, for any shape
or title he can take upon him, that hath no restraint of shame, having
understood the solitary life my late master lived, and considering how
open he had laid himself to any traitorous attempt, for the first mask
of his falsehood, disguised himself like a woman, which being the more
simple and hurtless sex, might easier hide his subtle harmfulness. And
presenting himself to my master, the most courteous prince that lived,
was received of him with so great graciousness that might have bound
not only any grateful mind, but might have mollified any enemy’s
rancour. But this venomous serpent, admitted thus into his bosom, as
contagion will easily find a fit body for it, so had he quickly fallen
into so near acquaintance with this naughty woman, whom even now you
have most justly condemned, that this was her right hand, she saw with
no eyes but his, nor seemed to have any life but in him, so glad she
was to find one more cunning than herself in covering wickedness with
a modest veil. What is to be thought passed betwixt two such virtuous
creatures, whereof the one hath confessed murder, and the other rape,
I leave to your wise consideration. For my heart hastens to the
miserable point of Basilius’s murder, for the executing of which with
more facility, this young nymph of Diana’s bringing up, feigned
certain rites she had to perform, so furious an impiety had carried
him from all remembrance of goodness that he did not only not fear the
gods, as the beholders and punishers of so ungodly a villainy, but did
blasphemously use their sacred holy name as a minister unto it. And
forsooth a cave hereby was chosen for the temple of his devotions, a
cave of such darkness, as did prognosticate he meant to please the
infernal powers; for there this accursed caitiff, upon the altar of
falsehood, sacrificed the life of the virtuous Basilius. By what means
he trained him thither, alas I know not, for if I might have known it,
either my life had accompanied my master, or this fellow’s death had
preserved him. But this may suffice that in {607} the mouth of this
cave, where this traitor had his lodging and chapel, when already
master shepherd, his companion, had conveyed away the undoubted
inheritrix of this country, was Gynecia found by the dead corpse of
her husband, newly empoisoned, apparelled in the garments of the young
lady, and ready no question to have fled to some place, according to
their consort, but that she was by certain honest shepherds arrested:
while in the meantime, because there should be left no revenger of
this bloody mischief, this noble Amazon was violently gotten into the
chamber of the Lady Philoclea, where by the mingling, as much as in
him lay, of her shame with his misdeed, he might enforce her to be
accessory to her father’s death, and under the countenance of her and
her sister, against whom they knew we would not rebel, seize as it
were with one grip into their treacherous hands, the regiment of this
mighty province. But the Almighty Eye prevented him of the end of his
mischief, by using a villain Dametas’s hand to inclose him in there,
where with as much fortification as in a house could be made, he
thought himself in most security. Thus see you most just judge, a
short and simple story of the infamous misery fallen upon this
country; indeed infamous, since by an effeminate man we should suffer
a greater overthrow than our mightiest enemies have been ever able to
lay upon us. And that all this, which I have said is most manifest, as
well of the murdering of Basilius, as the ravishing of Philoclea, for
those two parts I establish of my accusation, who is of so incredulous
a mind, or rather who will so stop his eyes from seeing a thing
clearer than the light, as not to hold for assured so palpable a
matter? For to begin with his most cruel misdeed, is it to be imagined
that Gynecia, a woman though wicked, yet witty, would have attempted
and achieved an enterprise, no less hazardous than horrible, without
having some counsellor in the beginning, and some comforter in the
performing? had she, who showed her thoughts were so over-ruled with
some strange desire, as in despite of God, nature, and womanhood, to
execute that in deeds, which in words we cannot hear without
trembling? Had she, I say, no practice to lead her unto it? or had she
a practice without conspiracy? or could she conspire without somebody
to conspire with? and if one were, who so likely as this, to whom she
communicated I am sure her mind, the world thinks her body? neither
let her words, taking the whole fault upon herself, be herein anything
available. For to those persons who have vomited out of their souls
all remnants of goodness, there rests a certain pride in evil, and
having else no shadow of glory left them, they glory to be constant in
iniquity, and that, God knows, must be held out to the last gasp,
without {608} revealing their accomplices; as thinking great courage
is declared in being neither afraid of the heavens, nor ashamed of the
world. But let Gynecia’s action die with herself, what can all the
earth answer for his coming hither? Why alone, if he be a prince? How
so richly jewelled if he be not a prince? Why then a woman if now a
man? Why now Daiphantus, if then Zelmane? Was all this play for
nothing, or if it had an end, what end but the end of my dear master?
Shall we doubt so many secret conferences with Gynecia, such feigned
favour to the over-soon beguiled Basilius, a cave made a lodging, and
the same lodging made a temple of his religion, lastly, such changes
and traverses, as a quiet poet could scarce fill a poem withal, were
directed to any less scope than to this monstrous murderer? O snaky
ambition, which can wind thyself in so many figures, to slide thither
thou desirest to come! O corrupted reason of mankind, that can yield
to deform thyself with so filthy desires? and O hopeless be those
minds whom so unnatural desires do not with their own ugliness
sufficiently terrify! But yet even of favour let us grant him thus
much more, as to fancy that in these foretold things, fortune might be
a great actor, perchance to an evil end, yet to a less evil end all
these entangled devices were intended. But I beseech your ladyship, my
Lady Daiphantus, tell me what excuse can you find for the changing
your lodging with the queen that very instant she was to finish her
execrable practice? how can you cloak the lending of your cloak unto
her. Was all that by chance too? Had the stars sent such an influence
unto you, as you should be just weary of your lodging and garments
when our prince was destined to the slaughter? What say you to this, O
shameful and shameless creature? fit indeed to be the dishonour of
both sexes. But alas! I spend too many words in so manifest and so
miserable a matter. They must be four wild horses, which according to