The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
arms”; Basilius told her that he had had occasion by one very inward
with him to know in part the discourse of his life, which was, that he
was a bastard brother to the fair Helen queen of Corinth, and dearly
esteemed of her for his exceeding good parts, being honourably
courteous, and wronglessly valiant, considerately pleasant in
conversation, and an excellent courtier without unfaithfulness, who,
finding his sister’s unpersuadable melancholy, through the love of
Amphialus, had for a time left her court, and gone into Laconia,
where, in the war against the Helots, he had gotten the reputation of
one that both durst and knew. But as it was rather choice than nature
that led him to matters of arms, so as soon as the spur of honour
ceased, he willingly rested in peaceable delights, being beloved in
all companies for his lovely qualities, and, as a man may term it,
winning cheerfulness; whereby to the prince and court of Laconia, none
was more agreeable than Phalantus: and he not given greatly to
struggle with his own disposition, followed the gentle current of it,
having a fortune sufficient to content, and he content with a
sufficient fortune. But in that court he saw, and was acquainted with
this Artesia, whose beauty he now defends, became her servant, said
himself, and perchance thought himself her lover. “But certainly,”
said Basilius, “many times it falls out that these young companions
make themselves believe they love at their first liking of a likely
beauty; loving, because they will love for want of other business, not
because they feel indeed that divine power which makes the heart find
a reason in passion, and so, God knows, as inconstantly leave upon the
next chance that beauty casts before them. So {76} therefore taking
love upon him like a fashion, he courted this lady Artesia, who was as
fit to pay him in his own money as might be: for she thinketh she did
wrong to her beauty if she were not proud of it, called her disdain of
him chastity, and placed her honour in little setting by his honouring
her, determining never to marry but him whom she thought worthy of
her, and that was one in whom all worthinesses were harboured. And to
this conceit not only nature had bent her, but the bringing-up she
received at by her sister-in-law Cecropia had confirmed her, who
having in her widowhood taken this young Artesia into her charge,
because her father had been a dear friend of her dear husband’s, had
taught her to think that there is no wisdom but in including both
heaven and earth in oneself; and that love, courtesy, gratefulness,
friendship, and all other virtues are rather to be taken on than taken
in oneself. And so good a disciple she found of her that, liking the
fruits of her own planting, she was content if so her son could have
liked of it, to have wished her in marriage to my nephew Amphialus.
But I think that desire hath lost some of his heat since she hath
known that such a queen as Helen is, doth offer so great a price as a
kingdom, to buy his favour; for, if I be not deceived in my good
sister Cecropia, she thinks no face so beautiful, as that which looks
under a crown. But Artesia indeed liked well of my nephew Amphialus:
For I can never deem that love, which in haughty hearts proceeds of a
desire only to please, and, as it were, peacock themselves; but yet
she hath showed vehemency of desire that way, I think because all her
desires be vehement, insomuch that she hath both placed her only
brother, a fine youth, called Ismenus, to be his ’squire, and herself
is content to wait upon my sister till she may see the uttermost what
she may work in Amphialus; who being of a melancholy (though, I must
say, truly courteous and noble) mind, seems to love nothing less than
love, and of late, having through some adventure, or inward
miscontentment, withdrawn himself from anybody’s knowledge, where he
is; Artesia the easier condescended to go to the court of Laconia,
whither she was sent for by the king’s wife, to whom she is somewhat
allied.
“And there, after the war of the Helots, this knight Phalantus, at
least for tongue-delight, made himself her servant, and she, so little
caring as not to show mislike thereof, was content only to be noted to
have a notable servant. For truly one in my court, nearly acquainted
with him, within these few days made me a pleasant description of
their love, while he with cheerful looks would speak sorrowful words,
using the phrase of his affection in so high a style, that Mercury
would not have wooed Venus with more magnificent eloquence; but else,
neither in behaviour, nor action, accusing in himself any great
trouble in mind whether he sped or no. And {77} she, on the other
side, well finding how little it was, and not caring for more, yet
taught him that often it falleth out but a foolish witness to speak
more than one thinks.
“For she made earnest benefit of his jest, forcing him in respect of
his profession to her such services as were both cumbersome and costly
unto him, while he still thought he went beyond her because his heart
did not commit the idolatry. So that lastly, she, I think, having mind
to make the fame of her beauty an orator for her to Amphialus
(persuading herself, perhaps, that it might fall out in him as it doth
in some that have delightful meat before them, and have no stomach to
it, before other folks praise it) she took the advantage one day, upon
Phalantus’s unconscionable praising of her, and certain cast-away vows
how much he would do for her sake, to arrest his word as soon as it
was out of his mouth, and by the virtue thereof to charge him to go
with her thro’ all the courts of Greece, and with the challenge now
made to give her beauty the principality over all other. Phalantus was
entrapped, and saw round about him, but could not get out. Exceedingly
perplexed he was, as he confessed to him that told me the tale, not
for doubt he had of himself (for indeed he had little cause, being
accounted, with his lance especially, whereupon the challenge is to be
tried as perfect as any that Greece knoweth) but because he feared to
offend his sister Helen, and withal, as he said, he could not so much
believe his love but that he must think in his heart, whatsoever his
mouth affirmed, that both she, my daughters, and the fair Parthenia
(wife to a most noble gentleman, my wife’s near kinsman) might far
better put in their claim for that prerogative. But his promise had
bound him prentice, and therefore it was now better with willingness
to purchase thanks than with a discontented doing to have the pain and
not the reward; and therefore went on as his faith, rather than love,
did lead him. And now hath he already passed the courts of Laconia,
Elis, Argos, and Corinth: And, as many times it happens that a good
pleader makes a bad cause to prevail, so hath his lance brought
captives to the triumph of Artesia’s beauty, such, as though Artesia
be among the fairest, yet in that company were to have the
pre-eminence: For in those courts many knights that had been in other
far countries defended such as they had seen and liked in their
travel: But their defence had been such that they had forfeited the
pictures of their ladies to give a forced false testimony to Artesia’s
excellency. And now, lastly, is he come hither, where he hath leave to
try his fortune. But I assure you, if I thought it not in due and true
consideration an injurious service and churlish courtesy to put the
danger of so noble a title in the deciding of such a dangerless
combat, I would make young master {78} Phalantus know that your eyes
can sharpen a blunt lance, and that age, which my gray hairs, only
gotten by the loving care of others, makes seem more than it is, hath
not diminished in me the power to protect an undeniable verity.” With
that he bustled up himself, as though his heart would fain have walked
abroad. Zelmane with an inward smiling gave him outward thanks,
desiring him to reserve his force for worthier causes.
So passing their time according to their wont, they waited for the
coming of Phalantus, who the next morning having already caused his
tents to be pitched near to a fair tree hard by the lodge, had upon
the tree made a shield to be hanged up, which the defendant should
strike that would call him to the maintaining his challenge. The
impresa in the shield was a heaven full of stars, with a speech
signifying that it was the beauty which gave the praise. Himself came
in next after a triumphant chariot made of carnation-velvet, enriched
with purple and pearl, wherein Artesia sat, drawn by four winged
horses with artificial flaming mouths and fiery wings, as if she had
newly borrowed them of Phoebus. Before her marched, two after two,
certain footmen pleasantly attired, who between them held one picture
after another of them, that by Phalantus’ well running had lost the
prize in the race of beauty, and at every pace they stayed, turned the
pictures to each side so leisurely that with perfect judgment they
might be discerned. The first that came in, following the order of the
time wherein they had been won, was the picture of Andromana, queen of
Iberia, whom a Laconian knight, having some time, and with special
favour, served, though some years since returned home, with more
gratefulness than good fortune defended. But therein Fortune had
borrowed wit; for indeed she was not comparable to Artesia, not
because she was a good deal older, for time had not yet been able to
impoverish her store thereof, but an exceeding red hair with small
eyes, did, like ill companions, disgrace the other assembly of most
commendable beauties.
Next after her was borne the counterfeit of the Princess of Elis, a
lady that taught the beholders no other point of beauty, but this:
That as liking is not always the child of beauty, so whatsoever liketh
is beautiful; for in that visage there was neither majesty, grace,
favour, nor fairness; yet she wanted not a servant that would have
made her fairer than the fair Artesia. But he wrote her praises with
his helmet in the dust, and left her picture to be a true witness of
his overthrow, as his running was of her beauty.
After her was the goodly Artaxia, great queen of Armenia, a lady upon
whom nature bestowed and well placed her most delightful colours, and,
withal, had proportioned her without any fault, quickly to be
discovered by the senses, yet altogether seemed not to make {79} up
that harmony that Cupid delights in, the reason whereof might seem a
mannish countenance, which overthrew that lovely sweetness, the
noblest power of womankind, far fitter to prevail by parley than by
battle.
Of a far contrary consideration was the representation of her that
next followed, which was Erona queen of Lycia, who though of so brown
a hair as no man should have injured it to have called it black, and
that in the mixture of her cheeks the white did so much overcome the
red, tho’ what was, was very pure, that it came near to paleness, and
that her face was a thought longer than the exact Symetrians perhaps
would allow; yet love played his part so well in every part that it
caught hold of the judgment before it could judge, making it first
love, and after acknowledge it fair; for there was a certain delicacy,
which in yielding conquered, and with a pitiful look made one find
cause to crave help himself.
After her came two ladies, of noble, but not of royal birth: The
former was named Baccha, who though very fair, and of a fatness rather
to allure, than to mislike, yet her breasts overfamiliarly laid open,
with a made countenance about her mouth, between simpering and
smiling, her head bowed somewhat down, seemed to languish with
over-much idleness, and with an inviting look cast upward, dissuaded