The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
ingraffed singular confidence. For how could they choose but love him,
whom they found so truly to love them? he even in reason disdaining,
that they that have charge of beasts, should love their charge and
care for them; and that he that was to govern the most excellent
creature, should not love so noble a charge. And, therefore, where
most princes, seduced by flattery to build upon false grounds of
government, make themselves, as it were, another thing from the
people, and so count it gain what they get from them and, as it were
two counter-balances, that their estate goes highest when the people
goes lowest, by a fallacy of argument thinking themselves most kings
when the subject is most basely subjected, he contrariwise, virtuously
and wisely acknowledging that he with his people made all but one
politic body, whereof himself was the head, even so cared for them as
he would for his own limbs, never restraining their liberty, without
it stretched to licentiousness, nor pulling from them their goods,
which they found were not employed to the purchase of a greater good;
but in all his actions showing a delight in their welfare, brought
that to pass, that, while by force he took nothing, by their love he
had all. In sum, peerless princess, I might as easily set down the
whole art of government as to lay before your eyes the picture of his
proceedings. But in such sort he flourished in the sweet comfort of
doing much good, when, by an occasion of leaving his country, he was
forced to bring forth his virtue of magnanimity, as before he had done
of justice.
“He had only one sister, a lady, least I should too easily all to
partial praises of her, of whom it may be justly said, that she was no
unfit branch to the noble stock whereof she was come. Her he had given
in marriage to Dorilaus prince of Thessalia, not so much to make a
friendship, as to confirm the friendship between their posterity,
which between them, by the likeness of virtue, had been long before
made: for certainly, Dorilaus could need no amplifier’s mouth for the
highest point of praise.” “Who hath not heard,” said Pamela, “of the
valiant, wise, and just Dorilaus, whose unripe death doth yet, so many
years since, draw tears from virtuous eyes; and indeed, my father is
wont to speak of nothing with greater admiration, than of the notable
friendship, a rare thing {156} in princes, more rare between princes,
that so holily was observed to the last of those two excellent men.
But,” said she, “go on I pray you.”
“Dorilaus,” said he, “having married his sister, had his marriage in
short time blest, for so are folk wont to say, how unhappy soever the
children after grow, with a son, whom they named Musidorus, of whom I
must needs first speak before I come to Pyrocles, because as he was
born first, so upon his occasion grew, as I may say accidentally, the
other’s birth. For scarcely was Musidorus made partaker of this
oft-blinding light, when there were found numbers of soothsayers who
affirmed strange and incredible things should be performed by that
child; whether the heavens at that time listed to play with ignorant
mankind, or that flattery be so presumptuous as even at times to
borrow the face of divinity. But certainly, so did the boldness of
their affirmation accompany the greatness of what they did affirm,
even descending to particularities, what kingdoms he should overcome,
that the king of Phrygia, who over-superstitiously thought himself
touched in the matter, sought by force to destroy the infant, to
prevent his after expectations: because a skilful man, having compared
his nativity with the child, so told him. Foolish man, either vainly
fearing what was not to be feared, or not considering that if it were
a work of the superior powers, the heavens at length are never
children. But so he did, and by the aid of the kings of Lydia and
Crete, joining together their armies, invaded Thessalia, and brought
Dorilaus to some behind-hand of fortune, when his faithful friend and
brother Euarchus came so mightily to his succour, that with some
interchanging changes of fortune, they begat of a just war, the best
child, Peace. In which time Euarchus made a cross marriage also with
Dorilaus’s sister, and shortly left her with child of the famous
Pyrocles, driven to return to the defence of his own country, which in
his absence, helped with some of the ill-contented nobility, the
mighty king of Thrace, and his brother king of Pannonia, had invaded.
The success of those wars was too notable to be unknown to your ears,
to which it seems all worthy fame hath glory to come unto. But there
was Dorilaus, valiantly requiring his friend’s help, in a great battle
deprived of life, his obsequies being no more solemnized by the tears
of his partakers than the blood of his enemies; with so piercing a
sorrow to the constant heart of Euarchus that the news of his son’s
birth could lighten his countenance with no show of comfort, although
all the comfort that might be in a child, truth itself in him
forthwith delivered. For what fortune only soothsayers foretold of
Musidorus, that all men might see prognosticated in Pyrocles, both
heavens and earth giving tokens of the coming forth of an heroical
virtue. The {157} senate house of the planets was at no time so set
for the decreeing of perfection in a man, as at that time all folks
skilful therein did acknowledge: only love was threatened, and
promised to him, and so to his cousin, as both the tempest and haven
of his best years. But as death may have prevented Pyrocles, so
unworthiness must be the death of Musidorus.
“But the mother of Pyrocles, shortly after her childbirth dying, was
cause that Euarchus recommended the care of his only son to his
sister, doing it the rather because the war continued in cruel heat,
betwixt him and those ill neighbours of his. In which meantime those
young princes, the only comforters of that virtuous widow, grew on so
that Pyrocles taught admiration to the hardest conceits: Musidorus,
perchance because among his subjects, exceedingly beloved; and by the
good order of Euarchus, well performed by his sister, they were so
brought up that all the sparks of virtue which nature had kindled in
them were so blown to give forth their uttermost heat, that, justly it
may be affirmed, they inflamed the affections of all that knew them.
For almost before they could perfectly speak, they began to receive
conceits not unworthy of the best speakers; excellent devices being
used, to make even their sports profitable; images of battles and
fortifications being then delivered to their memory, which after,
their stronger judgments might dispense, the delight of tales being
converted to the knowledge of all the stories of worthy princes, both
to move them to do nobly, and teach them how to do nobly; the beauty
of virtue still being set before their eyes, and that taught them with
far more diligent care than grammatical rules, their bodies exercised
in all abilities, both of doing and suffering, and their minds
acquainted by degrees with dangers; and in sum, all bent to the making
up of princely minds: no servile fear used towards them, nor any other
violent restraint, but still as to princes: so that a habit of
commanding was naturalized in them, and therefore the further from
tyranny: nature having done so much for them in nothing, as that it
made them lords of truth, whereon all the other goods were builded.
“Among which nothing I so much delight to recount, as the memorable
friendship that grew betwixt the two princes, such as made them more
like than the likeness of all other virtues, and made them more near
one to the other than the nearness of their blood could aspire unto;
which I think grew the faster, and the faster was tied between them by
reason that Musidorus being older by three or four years, it was
neither so great a difference in age as did take away the delight in
society, and yet by the difference there was taken away the occasion
of childish contentions, till they had both passed over the humour of
such contentions. For {158} Pyrocles bare reverence full of love to
Musidorus, and Musidorus had a delight full of love in Pyrocles.
Musidorus, what he had learned either for body or mind, would teach it
to Pyrocles; and Pyrocles was so glad to learn of none as of
Musidorus: till Pyrocles, being come to sixteen years of age, he
seemed so to over-run his age in growth, strength, and all things
following it, that not Musidorus, no nor any man living, I think,
could perform any action, either on horse, or foot, more strongly, or
deliver that strength more nimbly, or become the delivery more
gracefully, or employ all more virtuously. Which may well seem
wonderful: but wonders are no wonders in a wonderful subject.
“At which time, understanding that the king Euarchus, after so many
years of war, and the conquest of all Pannonia, and almost Thrace, had
now brought the conclusion of all to the siege of Byzantium, to the
raising of which siege, great forces were made, they would needs fall
to the practice of those virtues which they before learned. And
therefore the mother of Musidorus nobly yielding over her own affects
to her children’s good, for a mother she was in affect to them both,
the rather that they might help her beloved brother, they break off
all delays, which Musidorus for his part thought already had devoured
too much of his good time, but that he had once granted a boon, before
he knew what it was, to his dear friend Pyrocles, that he would never
seek the adventures of arms until he might go with him, which having
fast bound his heart, a true slave to faith, he had bid a tedious
delay of following his own humour for his friend’s sake, till now
being both sent for by Euarchus, and finding Pyrocles able every way
to go through with that kind of life, he was as desirous for his sake
as for his own, to enter into it. So therefore preparing a navy, that
they might go like themselves, and not only bring the comfort of their
presence, but of their power, to their dear parent Euarchus, they
recommended themselves to the sea, leaving the shore of Thessalia full
of tears and vows, and were received thereon with so smooth and
smiling a face, as if Neptune had as then learned falsely to fawn on
princes. The wind was like a servant, waiting behind them so just,
that they might fill the sails as they listed; and the best sailors
showing themselves less covetous of his liberality, so tempered it
that they all kept together like a beautiful flock, which so well
could obey their master’s pipe: without sometimes, to delight the
princes’ eyes, some two or three of them would strive, who could,
either by the cunning of well spending the wind’s breath, or by the
advantageous building of their moving houses, leave their fellows
behind them in the honour of speed: while the two princes had leisure
to see the practice of that, which before they had learned by books:
to consider the art of catching the {159} wind prisoner, to no other
end, but to run away with it; to see how beauty and use can so well
agree together, that of all the trinkets, wherewith they are attired,
there is not one but serves to some necessary purpose. And, O lord! to
see the admirable power and noble effects of love, whereby the seeming
insensible loadstone, with a secret beauty, holding the spirit of iron
in it, can draw that hard-hearted thing unto it, and like a virtuous
mistress, not only make it bow itself, but with it make it aspire to
so high a love as of the heavenly poles, and thereby to bring forth
the noblest deeds that the children of the earth can boast of. And so
the princes delighting their conceits with confirming their knowledge,
seeing wherein the sea-discipline differed from land-service, they had