The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
had given him life) kneeling near Erona: ‘Divine soul,’ said he, ‘if
confidence in thy Plangus’s constancy makes thee hover near this
sacred mansion of thine to see the end of his sufferings, O stay
awhile, and bear me with thee; thy presence, when I appear before
Radamanth, will be a countenance to my cause.’ Then turning himself to
me, ‘Amphialus, revenge, Amphialus, Erona’s death upon the wicked
Plexirtus; his blood will be the best sacrifice to my ghost. Lead the
army to Byzantium and restore the Amasian hostage.’ Then putting his
trembling lips to the pale lips of Erona, he coldly kissed away his
life.
“What my sorrow was, to be a looker on these tragedies, these tears,
even at the remembrance of that time, may testify; yet leaving the
bodies to be embalmed with the nobleman, who, in her life-time, had
been faithful to Erona, dissembling the death of Plangus, lest it
should work an innovation among the soldiers, with some choice troops
of light horsemen, I followed Plexirtus, who, posting to court, had
received advertisement from thence, how Arguto (the admirable engine
by whom he wrought much mischief) being lately fallen from the faith
vowed to his practices, had revealed to Artaxia the purpose his master
had to dispatch her out of his way, since now he had a son by her to
whom he might be guardian, esteeming it more content to be great alone
than to share the royalties of her own kingdom with Artaxia. These
news made his flight as dangerous as would be his stay; but when he
understood (for the heavens had made this the rendezvous where his
misfortunes should meet) that the Princes of Thessaly and Macedon, of
whom his treacheries were to expect their just reward, did live, and
should be happy in the addition of Arcadia to their greatness; that
Leonatus had seized upon his seigniories in Trebizond for his treason
to Pyrocles and Musidorus, of which not long before he had gloriously
boasted; that there was no new form of dissimulation left, to which,
in this extremity, he might have recourse: O then the ugliness of his
guilty conscience, that until this time had made peace with his
wickedness, presented before him the progress of his ill-spent days,
drawn to life in the colours of despair: now his father, now his
friends, Tydeus and Telenor were summoned by his soul to make party
against him. In this fright he continued all that day, {670} which
scarce was time sufficient for him to read over his misdeeds, and when
the silent night, drawn in her ebon chariot, had spread her curtains
to hide her brother’s face, Plexirtus, glad to see her flatter his
mind in this likeness of darkness, resolved, by despair, that the gods
wanted mercy for his faults, and well-assured men had less, he
secretly went into a garden, to which a back-door from his chamber led
him; where, loathing as much to die, as wishing he were dead, he spent
some time in execrations on himself. At length, tying a cord (newly
taken out of his bed) to the stump of an elder tree that stood with
such convenience as if it would invite him to that exercise, he
slipped into his death, easing the earth until morning of the burden
of so detestable a wretch.
“But when the day appeared, and made known his death, the magistrates
of the town, striving who could be best-sighted in the discovery of
the murder, hoping to have the reward of their diligence from the
Queen Artaxia, soon found out, as a man to be most suspected, the
messenger come from court, whom Plexirtus had, till late in the night,
kept in his chamber, to know of him the particulars of Arguto’s
revolt. This fellow, because none more likely in the wild form of
their popular justice, was to die a thousand manner of deaths; but he
making just protestations of his innocency, being questioned what
occasion he had so long to stay the last night with the king if not
for that end, he plainly let them know what Arguto discovered, which
he then reported to Plexirtus. The many-headed multitude called not
the truth much in question of what they heard, but with the same
violence as before, everyone, in this also thinking to gratify the
queen, ran to as uncertain a form of execution on the dead as they did
before to a judgment of the living; first they stripped the body
naked, then dragged it through the streets; now they open his belly
and suffer his guts to mark forth his progress, doing many more
indignities to him who had deserved many more. I much rejoiced to hear
Plexirtus had been so just to himself; yet I determined to join
Erona’s revenge on Artaxia to Plexirtus’s judgment on himself; but her
an untimely death had freed from my revenge, for taking to the heart
Plexirtus’s treacheries, and her brother Tyridates’s unrevenged death,
she calmly gave herself over to a life-oppressing grief, leaving her
kingdom and young son to the care of Salindor, whom she appointed
protector during the minority.
“Returning, therefore, somewhat grieved that both Plangus and Erona’s
death without my help had been revenged, I conveyed the bodies to
Lycia, where the sumptuousness of their tombs shows their estates, and
their everlasting fame their ever-living virtues. {671} From hence I
would have parted private, but remembering Plangus’s last will, I
passed through Amasia, restoring his son to the Duke, and coming to
Byzantium, I gave up my charge into the hands of Lisantus a
Macedonian, leaving the soldiers full of hearty sorrow for the death
of Plangus their general.
“Soon after, hearing of your death, and resolved to sacrifice my blood
to your memory, to disengage myself of some part of my faultiness,
leaving Fidutio in Thrace, lest by him I should be discovered,
disguising myself in an armour, fitly, as I thought, presenting the
massacre of my naked heart; passing the court of Elis and Argos, and,
lastly, coming hither, I met (what should I more say?) with thee my
Helen, reserved to be a blessing beyond what most I could desire.”
And so, with a sincere servency, kissing her hand, they both walked
towards the palace, where, having ended supper, where Basilius and
Euarchus, with the rest, expected a mask prepared for them; the Queen
of Corinth let them know what she had heard of Plangus and Erona,
together with Plexirtus’s deserved end, and the death of Artaxia. The
audience greatly pitied their fortunes, especially Pyrocles, who much
grieved to hear of Plangus’s death, for the love he bore his virtues,
and was no less troubled at Plexirtus’s mischance, for his dear
servant Zelmane’s sake. But the entry of the maskers caused him to put
over those thoughts to more solitariness, his eye being fed with
dainty variety of representations, and his ears with most harmonious
well-agreeing music, to which the footing kept so good time, that
doubtful it was whether the music conformed itself to the life of
their motion, or the masters their motion to the music’s liveliness.
But night (masked in these sports) crept on undiscovered; and though
Pyrocles and Musidorus at other times would dispense with the length
of the sports, yet now, in respect of the armfuls of joy they were to
expect in bed, they thought them tedious; which once perceived, their
dances were sooner at an end than was intended.
Thus days and nights passed over, as if they had no other sphere than
delight to move in; and the appointed time for Amphialus’s marriage
was at hand, to which Basilius invited the shepherds, both to change
their daily pleasures, as also to show Euarchus that though a greater
cause had moved him to the solitary course of life by him embraced,
yet the wits of Arcadia, and the pleasantness of their harmless life,
might have drawn him to that retiredness.
THE ECLOGUES
{672}
Kalodulus now minded to marry his daughter, and uncertain whether he
should bestow her on the contended young Arcadian Menalcas, or the
much having, much wanting Thessalian Corydon, who both were then
present, hearing of this summons; puts over their cause to be
determined by Basilius; and Strephon and Claius, no less desirous to
bring Urania’s name to court, joined themselves to the rest. Nor was
Agelastus wanting, who, not for a mistress, but, Heraclitus-like,
thinking man was made to mourn, and repining at the vanity of
greatness, had maintained a religious sorrow. No sooner was the
company set, and that their silence began to proclaim their
expectation, but Strephon, who, before his coming, had prepared an
Epithalamium, began thus to sing.
STREPHON
Sweet link of hearts, joy’s surest anchor-hold,
Love’s peaceful crown, the harbour of desires,
Hymen, approach, but think not Pan too bold,
If to invoke thy name our love aspires.
Dwell here for ever, that this couple may
Renew the blessings of their marriage-day.
Firm be their root of love, and cause a bliss,
From forth this royal happy stock to spring;
That all the world may justly say, he is
Worthy to be, and to succeed a king.
But shorten not their days; for ’tis decreed,
The best can be but worthy to succeed.
Amphialus thanked Strephon for his hearty wishes; but he had scarce
ended, when Claius, looking upon him with as sour a countenance as
their friendship could allow, thus said:
CLAIUS
I pray thee, Strephon, if these glorious shows
Of court’s admired greatness, do not close
Thy mind from former thoughts, where can thy lays
Find other subject than Urania’s praise?
Or, dost thou fondly think, thou wert to blame
To breathe among these lords Urania’s name?
Or, is it certain that her flames in thee
Are quench’d, that lately doubled were in me?
{673}
STREPHON
Nor so, nor thus; that verse I last day made,
As with my flock I sat in Hestar’s shade:
I studied it, yet all my study was,
I vow, to strive to let Urania pass.
For ’twas the only name my pen would write,
My thoughts imagine, or my lips indite.
Am I not bold when night’s vast stage is set,
And all the stars and heavenly audience met,
To speak my mind, while their bright twinkling flame
Seems to rejoice to hear Urania’s name?
And shall I fear that what the heaven’s approv’d,
By men (though great men) should be disallow’d?
But where you think that I have check’d mine eye,
And freed your Strephon from their treachery:
O no, mine is the giant Titius’s maw,
That doth increase to feel a vulture’s paw.
CLAIUS
No day runs over, but my love’s deep sore
Renews his pain, and festers more and more:
Alas! where’s pity then? belike it flies
The place we come to, frighted with our cries.
STREPHON
Pity! why friend, ’tis certain that their eyes,
Who know they can o’ercome, learn to despise:
Yet, Claius, why should we repine? our saint
Is pleas’d sometime to hear our love’s complaint.
And if mine eyes, to ease my inward pain,
Become not flatterers, she doth not disdain.
CLAIUS
Disdain! that were a bliss, so great a weight
Might lift our sorrows to their utmost height;
And then, perhaps, our own despair would mend
Our ling’ring hopes, that must or break, or bend.
O no, ours is a worse calamity,
A heedless care, and careless courtesy.
Then Claius pausing a while, with crossed arms and a downcast look,
began again these following verses to Strephon, whom he spoke to as
representing the person of sorrow.
CLAIUS
Foul Sorrow, wilt thou alway build thy nest
In the wild mountains of thy care-swollen breast?
{674}
STREPHON
O yes, I find it happy for my breed,
And near your heart, whereon I use to feed.
CLAIUS
But, gentle grief, if not for pity, spare
Me for Urania’s sake: she hath a share
In these my wounds, and she must feel the smart,
Whose image’s carv’d so lively in my heart.
STREPHON
O no, she shares no pain, from whose fair eyes