The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
bring him to destruction, thought better by humbleness to creep, where
by pride he could not march. For certainly so had Nature formed him,
and the exercise of craft conformed him to all turningness of flights,
that, though no man had less goodness in his soul than he, no man
could better find the places whence arguments might grow of goodness
to another; though no man felt less pity, no man could tell better how
to stir pity; no man more impudent to deny, where proofs were not
manifest; no man more ready to confess with a repenting manner of
aggravating his own evil, where denial would but make the fault
fouler. Now he took this way, that having gotten a passport for one,
that pretended he {176} would put Plexirtus alive into his hands, to
speak with the king his brother, he himself (though much against the
minds of the valiant brothers, who rather wished to die in brave
defence) with a rope about his neck, bare-footed, came to offer
himself to the discretion of Leonatus. Where what submission he used,
how cunningly in making greater the fault, he made the faultiness the
less, how artificially he could set out the torments of his own
conscience, with the burdensome cumber he had found of his ambitious
desires, how finely seeming to desire nothing but death, as ashamed to
live, he begged life in the refusing it, I am not cunning enough to be
able to express; but so fell out of it, that though at first sight
Leonatus saw him with no other eye than as the murderer of his father,
and anger already began to paint revenge in many colours, ere long he
had not only gotten pity but pardon; and if not an excuse of the fault
past, yet an opinion of a future amendment: while the poor villains
(chief ministers of his wickedness, now betrayed by the author
thereof) were delivered to many cruel sorts of death; he so handling
it, that it rather seemed he had more come into the defence of an
unremediable mischief already committed than that they had done it at
first by his consent.
“In such sort the princes left these reconciled brothers (Plexirtus in
all his behaviour carrying him in far lower degree of service than the
ever-noble nature of Leonatus would suffer him) and taking likewise
their leaves of their good friend the king of Pontus, who returned to
enjoy some benefit, both of his wife and kingdom, they privately went
thence, having only with them the two valiant brothers, who would
needs accompany them through divers places, they four doing acts more
dangerous, though less famous, because they were but private
chivalries; till hearing of the fair and virtuous queen Erona of
Lycia, besieged by the puissant king of Armenia, they bent themselves
to her succour, both because the weaker, and weaker as being a lady,
and partly because they heard the king of Armenia had in his company
three of the most famous men living, for matters of arms, that were
known to be in the world. Whereof one was the prince Plangus whose
name was sweetened by your breath, peerless lady, when the last day it
pleased you to mention him unto me, the other two were two great
princes, though holding of him, Barzanes and Euardes, men of
giant-like both hugeness and force; in which two especially, the trust
the king had of victory was reposed. And of them, those brothers
Tydeus and Telenor, sufficient judges in warlike matters, spoke so
high commendations, that the two princes had even a youthful longing
to have some trial of their virtue. And therefore as soon as they were
entered into Lycia, they joined themselves with them that faithfully
served the poor queen, at that time besieged; and ere {177} long
animated in such sort their almost overthrown hearts, that they went
by force to relieve the town, though they were deprived of a great
part of their strength by the parting of the two brothers, who were
sent for in all haste to return to their old friend and master
Plexirtus, who, willingly hoodwinking themselves from seeing his
faults, and binding themselves to believe what he said, often abused
the virtue of courage to defend his foul vice of injustice. But now
they were sent for to advance a conquest he was about; while Pyrocles
and Musidorus pursued the delivery of the queen Erona.”
“I have heard,” said Pamela, “that part of the story of Plangus, when
he passed through this country, therefore you may, if you list, pass
over that war of Erona’s quarrel, lest if you speak too much of war
matters, you should wake Mopsa, which might happily breed a great
broil.” He looked, and saw that Mopsa indeed sat swallowing the sleep
with open mouth, making such a noise withal, as nobody could lay the
stealing of a nap to her charge. Whereupon, willing to use that
occasion, he kneeled down, and with humble heartedness, and hearty
earnestness printed in his graces; “Alas!” said he, “divine lady, who
have wrought such miracles in me, as to make a prince, none of the
basest, to think all principalities base in respect of the sheephook
which may hold him up in your sight; vouchsafe now at last to hear in
direct words my humble suit, while this dragon sleeps that keeps the
golden fruit. If in my desire I wish, or in my hopes aspire, or in my
imagination fain to myself anything which may be the least spot to
that heavenly virtue which shines in all your doings, I pray the
eternal powers, that the words I speak may be deadly poisons, while
they are in my mouth, and that all my hopes, all my desires, all my
imaginations may only work their own confusion. But if love, love of
you, love of your virtues, seek only that favour of you, which
becometh that gratefulness which cannot misbecome your excellency, O
do not--” He would have said further, but Pamela calling aloud Mopsa,
she suddenly started up, staggering, and rubbing her eyes, ran first
out of the door, and then back to them, before she knew how she went
out, or why she came in again: till at length, being fully come to her
little self, she asked Pamela why she had called her. For nothing said
Pamela, but that ye might hear some tales of your servant’s telling:
“and therefore now,” said she, “Dorus go on.”
But as he, who found no so good sacrifice as obedience, was returning
to the story of himself, Philoclea came in, and by and by after her,
Miso, so as for that time they were fain to let Dorus depart. But
Pamela delighted even to preserve in her memory the words of so well a
beloved speaker, repeated the whole {178} substance to her sister,
till their sober dinner being come and gone, to recreate themselves
something, even tired with the noisomeness of Miso’s conversation,
they determined to go, while the heat of the day lasted, to bathe
themselves, such being the manner of the Arcadian nymphs often to do,
in the river of Ladon, and take with them a lute, meaning to delight
them under some shadow. But they could not stir, but that Miso, with
her daughter Mopsa was after them: and as it lay in their way to pass
by the other lodge, Zelmane out of her window espied them, and so
stole down after them, which she might the better do, because that
Gynecia was sick, and Basilius, that day being his birth-day,
according to his manner, was busy about his devotions; and therefore
she went after, hoping to find some time to speak with Philoclea: but
not a word could she begin, but that Miso would be one of the
audience, so that she was driven to recommend thinking, speaking, and
all, to her eyes, who diligently performed her trust, till they came
to the river’s side, which of all the rivers of Greece had the praise
for excellent pureness and sweetness, insomuch as the very bathing in
it was accounted exceeding healthful. It ran upon so fine and delicate
a ground, as one could not easily judge whether the river did more
wash the gravel, or the gravel did purify the river; the river not
running forthright, but almost continually winding, as if the lower
streams would return to their spring, or that the river had a delight
to play with itself. The banks of either side seeming arms of the
loving earth that fain would embrace it, and the river a wanton nymph
which still would slip from it; either side of the bank being fringed
with most beautiful trees, which resisted the sun’s darts from
overmuch piercing the natural coldness of the river. There was among
the rest a goodly cypress, who bowing her fair head over the water, it
seemed she looked into it, and dressed her green locks by that running
river.
There the princesses determining to bathe themselves, though it was so
privileged a place, upon pain of death, as nobody durst presume to
come hither; yet for the more surety, they looked round about, and
could see nothing but a water-spaniel, who came down the river,
showing that he hunted for a duck, and with a snuffling grace,
disdaining that his smelling force could not as well prevail through
the water as through the air; and therefore waiting with his eye to
see whether he could espy the ducks getting up again, but then a
little below them failing of his purpose, he got out of the river, and
shaking off the water (as great men do their friends) now he had no
further cause to use it, inweeded himself so that the ladies lost the
further marking his sportfulness: and inviting Zelmane also to wash
herself with them, and she excusing {179} herself with having taken a
late cold, they began by piecemeal to take away the eclipsing of their
apparel.
Zelmane would have put to her helping hand, but she was taken with
such a quivering, that she thought it more wisdom to lean herself to a
tree, and look on, while Miso and Mopsa, like a couple of foreswat
melters, were getting the pure silver of their bodies out of the ure
of their garments. But as the raiments went off to receive kisses of
the ground, Zelmane envied the happiness of all, but of the smock was
even jealous, and when that was taken away too, and that Philoclea
remained, for her Zelmane only marked, like a diamond taken from out
of the rock, or rather like the sun getting from under a cloud, and
showing his naked beams to the full view, then was the beauty too much
for a patient sight, the delight too strong for a stayed conceit, so
that Zelmane could not choose but run, to touch, embrace and kiss her.
But conscience made her come to herself, and leave Philoclea, who
blushing, and withal smiling, making shamefacedness pleasant, and
pleasure shamefaced, tenderly moved her feet, unwonted to feel the
naked ground, till the touch of the cold water made a pretty kind of
shrugging come over her body, like the twinkling of the fairest among
the fixed stars. But the river itself gave way unto her, so that she
was straight breast high, which was the deepest that thereabout she
could be: and when cold Ladon had once fully embraced them, himself
was no more so cold to those ladies, but as if his cold complexion had
been heated with love, so seemed he to play about every part he could
touch.
“Ah sweet, now sweetest Ladon,” said Zelmane, “why dost thou not stay
thy course to have more full taste of thy happiness? but the reason is
manifest, the upper streams make such haste to have their part of
embracing, that the nether, though lothly, must needs give place unto
them. O happy Ladon, within whom she is, upon whom her beauty falls,
through whom her eye pierceth. O happy Ladon, which art now an
unperfect mirror of all perfection, can’st thou ever forget the
blessedness of this impression? if thou do, then let thy bed be turned
from fine gravel to weeds and mud; if thou do, let some unjust
niggards make wares to spoil thy beauty; if thou do, let some greater
river fall into thee, to take away the name of Ladon, O! Ladon, happy
Ladon, rather slide than run by her, lest thou should’st make her legs
slip from her, and then, O happy Ladon, who would then call thee, but