The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
be anywhere else than {92} with so good a master) that in the end he
agreed (if that day he behaved himself so to the liking of Basilius,
as he might be contented) that then he would receive him into his
service.
And thus went they to the lodge, where they found Gynecia and her
daughters ready to go to the field, to delight themselves there a
while until the shepherds coming: whither also taking Zelmane with
them, as they went, Dametas told them of Dorus, and desired he might
be accepted there that day instead of his brother Menalcas. As for
Basilius, he stayed behind to bring the shepherds, with whom he meant
to confer, to breed the better Zelmane’s liking, which he only
regarded, while the other beautiful band came to the fair field
appointed for the shepherdish pastimes. It was indeed a place of
delight; for through the midst of it there ran a sweet brook which did
both hold the eye open with her azure streams, and yet seek to close
the eye with the purling noise it made upon the pebble stones it ran
over: the field itself being set in some places with roses, and in all
the rest constantly preserving a flourishing green: the roses, added
such a ruddy show unto it, as though the field were bashful at his own
beauty: about it, as if it had been to enclose a theatre, grew such
sort of trees as either excellency of fruit, stateliness of growth,
continual greenness, or poetical fancies, have made at any time
famous. In most part of which there had been framed by art such
pleasant arbours, that, one answering another, they became a gallery
aloft from tree to tree almost round about, which below gave a perfect
shadow; a pleasant refuge then from the choleric look of Phoebus.
In this place while Gynecia walked hard by them, carrying many unquiet
contentions about her, the ladies sat them down, enquiring divers
questions of the shepherd Dorus; who keeping his eye still upon
Pamela, answered with such a trembling voice, and abashed countenance,
and oftentimes so far from the matter, that it was some sport to the
young ladies, thinking it want of education which made him so
discountenanced with unwonted presence. But Zelmane that saw in him
the glass of her own misery, taking the hand of Philoclea, and with
burning kisses setting it close to her lips (as if it should stand
there like a hand in the margin of a book, to note some saying worthy
to be marked) began to speak those words: “O love, since thou art so
changeable in men’s estates, how art thou so constant in their
torments?” when suddenly there came out of a wood a monstrous lion,
with a she-bear not far from him, of a little less fierceness, which,
as they guessed, having been hunted in forests far off, were by chance
come thither, where before such beast had never been seen. Then care,
not fear, or fear, not for themselves, altered something the
countenances of the two lovers; but so, as any man might perceive, was
rather an {93} assembling of powers, than dismayedness of courage.
Philoclea no sooner espied the lion, but, that obeying the commandment
of fear, she leaped up, and ran to the lodge-ward, as fast as her
delicate legs could carry her, while Dorus drew Pamela behind a tree,
where she stood quaking like a partridge on which the hawk is even
ready to seize. But the lion, seeing Philoclea run away, bent his race
to her-ward, and was ready to seize himself on the prey when Zelmane
(to whom danger then was a cause of dreadlessness, all the composition
of her elements being nothing but fiery) with swiftness of desire
crossed him, and with force of affection struck him such a blow upon
his chine, that she opened all his body: wherewith the valiant beast
turning her with open jaws, she gave him such a thrust through his
breast, that all the lion could do, was with his paw to tear off the
mantle and sleeve of Zelmane with a little scratch, rather than a
wound, his death-blow having taken away the effect of his force: but
therewithal he fell down, and gave Zelmane leisure to take off his
head, to carry it for a present to her lady Philoclea, who all this
while, not knowing what was done behind her, kept on her course like
Arethusa when she ran from Alpheus; her light apparel being carried up
with the wind, that much of those beauties she would at another time
have willingly hidden, was presented to the sight of the twice wounded
Zelmane. Which made Zelmane not follow her over-hastily, lest she
should too soon deprive herself of that pleasure, but carrying the
lion’s head in her hand, did not fully overtake her till they came to
the presence of Basilius. Neither were they long there, but that
Gynecia came thither also, who had been in such a trance of musing
that Zelmane was fighting with the lion, before she knew of any lion’s
coming: but then affection resisting, and the soon ending of the fight
preventing all extremity of fear she marked Zelmane’s fighting: and
when the lion’s head was off, as Zelmane ran after Philoclea, so she
could not find in her heart but run after Zelmane: so that it was a
new sight Fortune had prepared to those woods, to see those great
personages thus run one after the other, each carried forward with an
inward violence; Philoclea with such fear that she thought she was
still in the lion’s mouth; Zelmane with an eager and impatient
delight; Gynecia with wings of love, flying she neither knew nor cared
to know whither. But now being all come before Basilius, amazed with
this sight, and fear having such possession in the fair Philoclea that
her blood durst not yet come to her face to take away the name of
paleness from her most pure whiteness, Zelmane kneeled down and
presented the lion’s head unto her: “Only lady,” said she, “here see
you the punishment of that unnatural beast, which contrary to his own
kind would have wronged prince’s blood, guided with such traitorous
{94} eyes, as durst rebel against your beauty.” “Happy am I, and my
beauty both (answered the sweet Philoclea then blushing, for fear had
bequeathed his room to his kinsman bashfulness) that you, excellent
Amazon, were there to teach him good manners.” “And even thanks to
that beauty,” answered Zelmane, “which can give an edge to the
bluntest swords.”
There Philoclea told her father how it had happened; but as she had
turned her eyes in her tale to Zelmane she perceived some blood upon
Zelmane’s shoulder, so that starting with the lovely grace and pity
she showed it to her father and mother, who, as the nurse sometimes
with over-much kissing may forget to give the babe suck, so had they
with too much delighting, in beholding and praising Zelmane, left off
to mark whether she needed succour. But then they ran both unto her,
like a father and mother to an only child, and, though Zelmane assured
them it was nothing, would needs see it, Gynecia having skill in
chirurgery, an art in those days much esteemed because it served to
virtuous courage, which even ladies would, ever with the contempt of
cowards, seem to cherish. But looking upon it (which gave more inward
bleeding wounds to Zelmane, for she might sometimes feel Philoclea’s
touch while she helped her mother) she found it was indeed of no
importance; yet applied she a precious balm unto it of power to heal a
greater grief.
But even then, and not before, they remembered Pamela, and therefore
Zelmane, thinking of her friend Dorus, was running back to be
satisfied, when they might all see Pamela coming between Dorus and
Dametas, having in her hand the paw of a bear, which the shepherd
Dorus had newly presented unto her, desiring her to accept it, as of
such a beast, which though she deserved death for her presumption, yet
was her wit to be esteemed, since she could make so sweet a choice.
Dametas for his part came piping and dancing, the merriest man in a
parish: but when he came so near as he might be heard of Basilius, he
would needs break through his ears with this joyful song of their good
success.
Now thanked be the great god Pan,
Which thus preserves my loved life:
Thanked be I that keep a man,
Who ended hath this bloody strife:
For if my Man must praises have,
What then must I, that keep the knave?
For as the Moon the eye doth please,
With gentle beams not hurting sight:
Yet hath sir Sun the greatest praise,
Because from him doth come her light:
So if my man must praises have,
What then must I, that keep the knave?
{95}
Being all now come together, and all desirous to know each other’s
adventures, Pamela’s noble heart would needs gratefully make known the
valiant means of her safety, which, directing her speech to her
mother, she did in this manner: “As soon,” said she, “as ye were all
run away, and that I hoped to be in safety, there came out of the same
woods a horrible foul bear, which (fearing belike to deal while the
lion was present as soon as he was gone) came furiously towards the
place where I was, and this young shepherd left alone by me, I truly
(not guilty of any wisdom, which since they lay to my charge, because
they say it is the best refuge against that beast, but even pure fear
bringing forth that effect of wisdom) fell down flat on my face,
needing not counterfeit being dead, for indeed I was little better.
But this young shepherd with a wonderful courage, having no other
weapon but that knife you see, standing before the place where I lay,
so behaved himself that the first sight I had, when I thought myself
already near Charon’s ferry, was the shepherd showing me his bloody
knife in token of victory.” “I pray you (said Zelmane speaking to
Dorus, whose valour she was careful to have manifested) in what sort,
so ill weaponed, could you achieve this enterprise?” “Noble lady,”
said Dorus, “the manner of those beasts fighting with any man, is to
stand up upon their hinder feet, and so this did, and being ready to
give me a shrewd embracement, I think the god Pan, ever careful of the
chief blessing of Arcadia, guided my hand so just to the heart of the
beast that neither she could once touch me nor (which is the only
matter in this worthy remembrance) breed any danger to the princess.
For my part, I am rather, with all subjected humbleness, to thank her
excellencies, since the duty thereunto gave me heart to save myself
than to receive thanks for a deed which was her only aspiring.” And
this Dorus spoke, keeping affection as much as he could back from
coming into his eyes and gestures. But Zelmane, that had the same
character in her heart, could easily decipher it, and therefore to
keep him the longer in speech, desired to understand the conclusion of
the matter, and how the honest Dametas was escaped. “Nay,” said
Pamela, “none shall take that office from myself, being so much bound
to him as I am for my education.” And with that word, scorn borrowing
the countenance of mirth, somewhat she smiled, and thus spoke on:
“When,” said she, “Dorus made me assuredly perceive that all cause of
fear was passed, the truth is, I was ashamed to find myself alone with
this shepherd, and therefore looking about me, if I could see anybody,
at length we both perceived the gentle Dametas, lying with his head
and breast as far as he could thrust himself into a bush, drawing up
his legs as close unto him as he could: for, like a man of a very kind
nature, {96} soon to take pity on himself, he was fully resolved not
to see his own death. And when this shepherd pushed him, bidding him
to be of good cheer, it was a great while ere we could persuade him
that Dorus was not the bear, so that he was fain to pull him out by
the heels, and show him the beast as dead as he could wish it: which,
you may believe me, was a very joyful sight unto him. But then he
forgot all courtesy, for he fell upon the beast, giving it many a