The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
for a day, and almost a whole night, as pleasing entertainment as the
falsest heart could give to him he means worst to.
“But by that the next morning began a little to make a gilded show of
a good meaning, there arose even with the sun, a veil of dark clouds
before his face, which, shortly, like ink poured into water, had
blacked over all the face of heaven, preparing as it were a mournful
stage for a tragedy to be played on. For forthwith the winds began to
speak louder, and, as in a tumultuous kingdom, to think themselves
fittest instruments of commandment; and blowing whole storms of hail
and rain upon them, they were sooner in danger, than they could almost
bethink themselves of change. For then the traitorous sea began to
swell in pride against the afflicted navy, under which, while the
heaven favoured them, it had lain so calmly, making mountains of
itself, over which the tossed and tottering ship should climb, to be
straight carried down again to a pit of hellish darkness; with such
cruel blows against the sides of the ship that, which way soever it
went, was still in his malice, that there was left neither power to
stay nor way to escape. And shortly had it so dissevered the loving
company, which the day before had tarried together, that most of them
never met again, but were swallowed up in his never satisfied mouth.
Some indeed, as since was known, after long wandering, returned into
Thessalia, others recovered Byzantium, and served Euarchus in his war.
But in the ship wherein the princes were, now left as much alone as
proud lords be when fortune fails them, though they employed all
industry to save themselves, yet what they did was rather for duty to
nature than hope to escape so ugly a darkness as if it would prevent
the night’s coming, usurped the day’s right: which accompanied
sometimes with thunders, always with horrible noises of the chafing
winds, made the masters and pilots so astonished that they knew not
how to direct, and if they knew, they could scarcely, when they
directed, hear their own whistle. For the sea strove with the winds
which should be louder, {160} and the shrouds of the ship, with a
ghastful noise to them that were in it, witnessed that their ruin was
the wager of the others’ contention, and the heaven roaring out
thunders the more amazed them, as having those powers for enemies.
Certainly there is no danger carries with it more horror than that
which grows in those floating kingdoms. For that dwelling place is
unnatural to mankind, and then the terribleness of the continual
motion, the desolation of the far-being from comfort, the eye and the
ear having ugly images ever before it, doth still vex the mind, even
when it is best armed against it. But thus the day passed, if that
might be called day, while the cunningest mariners were so conquered
by the storm that they thought it best with stricken sails to yield to
be governed by it: the valiantest feeling inward dismayedness, and yet
the fearfullest ashamed fully to show it, seeing that the princes, who
were to part from the greatest fortunes, did in their countenances
accuse no point of fear, but encouraging them to do what might be
done, putting their hands to every most painful office, taught them at
one instant to promise themselves the best, and yet to despise the
worst. But so were they carried by the tyranny of the wind, and the
treason of the sea all that night, which the older it was, the more
wayward it showed itself towards them: till the next morning, known to
be a morning better by the hour-glass than by the day’s clearness,
having run fortune so blindly, as itself ever was painted, lest the
conclusion should not answer to the rest of the play, they were driven
upon a rock, which, hidden with those outrageous waves, did, as it
were, closely dissemble his cruel mind, till with an unbelieved
violence, but to them that have tried it, the ship ran upon it, and
seeming willinger to perish than to have her course stayed, redoubled
her blows, till she had broken herself in pieces, and as it were,
tearing out her own bowels to feed the sea’s greediness, lest nothing
within it but despair of safety and expectation of a loathsome end.
There was to be seen the divers manner of minds in distress: some sat
upon the top of the poop weeping and wailing, till the sea swallowed
them; some one more able to abide death than fear of death, cut his
own throat to prevent drowning; some prayed: and there wanted not of
them which cursed, as if the heavens could not be more angry than they
were. But a monstrous cry begotten of many roaring voices, was able to
infect with fear a mind that had not prevented it with the power of
reason.
“But the princes, using the passions of fearing evil, and desiring to
escape only to serve the rule of virtue, not to abandon one’s self,
leaped to a rib of the ship, which broken from his fellows, floated
with more likelihood to do service than any other limb of that ruinous
body; upon which they had gotten already two brethren {161} well known
servants of theirs; and straight they four were carried out of sight,
in that huge rising of the sea, from the rest of the ship. But the
piece they were on sinking by little and little under them, not able
to support the weight of so many, the brethren, the elder whereof was
Leucippus, the younger Nelsus, showed themselves right faithful and
grateful servants unto them: grateful, I say, for this cause: those
two gentlemen had been taken prisoners in the great war the king of
Phrygia made upon Thessalia, in the time of Musidorus’s infancy, and
having been sold into another country, though peace fell after between
those realms, could not be delivered because of their valour known,
but for a far greater sum than either all their friends were able, or
the dowager willing to make, in respect of the great expenses herself
and people had been put to in those wars, and so had they remained in
prison about thirteen years, when the two young princes, hearing
speeches of their good deserts, found means both by selling all the
jewels they had of a great price, and by giving under their hands
great estates when they should come to be kings, which promises their
virtue promised for them should be kept, to get so much treasure as
redeemed them from captivity. This remembered, and kindly remembered
by those two brothers, perchance helped by a natural duty to their
princes’ blood, they willingly left hold of the board, committing
themselves to the sea’s rage, and even when they meant to die,
themselves praying for the princes’ lives. It is true, that neither
the pain nor danger, so moved the princes’ hearts as the tenderness of
that loving part, far from glory, having so few lookers on; far from
hope of reward, since themselves were sure to perish.
“But now of all the royal navy they lately had, they had left but one
little piece of one ship, whereon they kept themselves, in all truth
having interchanged their cares, while either cared for other, each
comforting and counselling how to labour for the better, and to abide
the worse. But so fell it out, that as they were carried by the tide
which there, seconded by the storm, ran exceeding swiftly, Musidorus
seeing, as he thought, Pyrocles not well upon the board, as he would
with his right hand have helped him on better, he had no sooner
unfastened his hold but that a wave forcibly spoiled his weaker hand
of hold, and so for a time parted those friends, each crying to the
other; but the noise of the sea drowned their farewell. But Pyrocles,
then careless of death, if it had come by any means but his own, was
shortly brought out of the sea’s fury to the land’s comfort, when in
my conscience I know that comfort was but bitter unto him: and bitter
indeed it fell out even in itself to be unto him.
“For being cast on land much bruised and beaten both with the {162}
sea’s hard farewell, and the shore’s rude welcome; and even almost
deadly tired with the length of his uncomfortable labour, as he was
walking up to discover somebody, to whom he might go for relief, there
came straight running unto him certain, who, as it was after known, by
appointment watched, with many others, in divers places along the
coast, who laid hands on him, and without either questioning with him,
or showing will to hear him, like men fearful to appear curious, or
which was worse, having no regard to the hard plight he was in, being
so wet and weak, they carried him some miles thence to a house of a
principal officer of that country. Who with no more civility (though
with much more business than those under fellows had showed) began in
captious manner to put interrogatories unto him. To which, he unused
to such entertainment, did shortly and plainly answer, what he was and
how he came thither. But that no sooner known, with numbers of armed
men to guard him (for mischief, not from mischief) he was sent to the
king’s court, which as then was not above a day’s journey off, with
letters from that officer, containing his own serviceable diligence in
discovering so great a personage, adding withal more than was true of
his conjectures, because he would endear his own service.
“This country whereon he fell was Phrygia, and it was to the king
thereof to whom he was sent, a prince of a melancholy constitution
both of body and mind; wickedly sad, ever musing of horrible matters,
suspecting, or rather condemning all men of evil, because his mind had
no eye to spy goodness: and therefore accusing Sycophants, of all men,
did best sort to his nature; but therefore not seeming Sycophants,
because of no evil they said, they could bring any new or doubtful
thing unto him, but such as already he had been apt to determine, so
as they came but as proofs of his wisdom: fearful, and never secure,
while the fear he had figured in his own mind had any possibility of
event. A toad-like retiredness, and closeness of mind; nature teaching
the odiousness of poison, and the danger of odiousness. Yet while
youth lasted in him, the exercises of that age, and his humour, not
yet fully discovered, made him something the more frequentable, and
less dangerous. But after that years began to come on with some,
though more seldom, shows of a bloody nature, and that the prophecy of
Musidorus’s destiny came to his ears (delivered unto him, and received
of him with the hardest interpretation, as though his subjects did
delight in the hearing thereof). Then gave he himself indeed to the
full current of his disposition, especially after the war of
Thessalia, wherein, though in truth wrongly, he deemed his unsuccess
proceeded of their unwillingness to have him prosper: and then
thinking himself contemned {163} (knowing no countermine against
contempt, but terror) began to let nothing pass which might bear the
colour of a fault without sharp punishment: and when he wanted faults,
excellency grew a fault! and it was sufficient to make one guilty,
that he had power to be guilty. And as there is no humour, to which
impudent poverty cannot make itself serviceable, so were there enough
of those of desperate ambition, who would build their houses upon
others’ ruins, which after should fall by like practices. So as a
servitude came mainly upon that poor people, whose deeds were not only
punished, but words corrected, and even thoughts by some mean or other
pulled out of them; while suspicion bred the mind of cruelty, and the
effects of cruelty stirred up a new cause of suspicion. And in this
plight, full of watchful fearfulness, did the storm deliver sweet
Pyrocles to the stormy mind of that tyrant; all men that did such
wrong to so rare a stranger, whose countenance deserved both pity and
admiration, condemning themselves as much in their hearts, as they did
brag in their faces.