The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
But still although we fail of perfect rightfulness,
Seek we to tame those childish superfluities:
Let us not wink though void of purest sightfulness
For what can breed more peevish incongruities,
Than man to yield to female lamentations:
Let us some grammar learn of more congruities.
PLANGUS
If through mine ears pierce any consolations,
By wise discourse, sweet tunes, or poets’ fiction;
If aught I cease those hideous exclamations;
While that my soul, she, lives in affliction;
Then let my life long time on earth maintained be,
To wretched me, the last worst malediction.
Can I that knew her sacred parts, restrained be
From any joy? know fortunes vile displacing her,
In mortal rules let raging woes contained be?
Can I forget, when they in prison placing her,
With swelling heart in spite and due disdainfulness
She lay for dead, till I help’d with unlacing her?
Can I forget from how much mourning painfulness
With diamond in window-glass she grav’d
“Erona die, and end this ugly painfulness”?
Can I forget in how strange phrase she crav’d
That quickly they would her burn, drown or smother,
As if by death she only might be sav’d?
Then let me eke forget one hand from other:
Let me forget that Plangus I am called:
Let me forget I am son to my mother:
But if my memory must thus be thralled
To that strange stroke which conquered all my senses.
Can thoughts still thinking, so rest unappalled?
BASILIUS
Who still doth seek against himself offences,
What pardon can avail? or who employs him
To hurt himself, what shields can be defences?
{191}
Woe to poor man; each outward thing annoys him
In divers kinds; yet as he were not filled,
He heaps in outward grief, that most destroys him.
Thus is our thought with pain for thistles tilled:
Thus be our noblest parts dried up with sorrow:
Thus is our mind with too much minding spilled.
One day lays up store of grief for the morrow:
And whose good haps do leave him unprovided,
Condoling cause of friendship he will borrow:
Betwixt the good and shade of good divided,
We pity deem that which but weakness is:
So are we from our high creation slided.
But Plangus, lest I may your sickness miss,
Or rubbing, hurt the sore, I here do end.
The ass did hurt when he did think to kiss.
When Zelmane had read it over, marvelling very much of the speech of
Erona’s death, and therefore desirous to know further of it, but more
desirous to hear Philoclea speak, “Most excellent lady,” said she,
“one may be little the wiser for reading this dialogue, since it
neither sets forth what this Plangus is, nor what Erona is, nor what
the cause should be which threatens her with death, and him with
sorrow; therefore I would humbly crave to understand the particular
discourse thereof, because, I must confess, something in my travel I
have heard of this strange matter, which I would be glad to find by so
sweet an authority confirmed.” “The truth is,” answered Philoclea,
“that after he knew my father to be prince of this country, while he
hoped to prevail something with him in a great request he made unto
him, he was content to open fully the estate both of himself, and of
that lady; which with my sister’s help,” said she, “who remembers it
better than I, I will declare unto you. And first of Erona, being the
chief subject of this discourse, this story, with more tears and
exclamations than I list to spend about it, he recounted.”
“Of late there reigned a king in Lydia, who had, for the blessing of
his marriage, this only daughter of his, Erona, a princess worthy for
her beauty, as much praise, as beauty may be praise-worthy. This
princess Erona, being nineteen years of age, seeing the country of
Lydia so much devoted to Cupid, as that in every place his naked
pictures and images were superstitiously adored (either moved
thereunto by the esteeming that it could be no god-head, which could
breed wickedness, or the shamefaced consideration of such nakedness)
procured so much of her father, as utterly to pull down, and deface
all those statutes and pictures: which how terribly he punished, for
to that the Lydians impute it, quickly after appeared.
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“For she had not lived a year longer, when she was stricken with most
obstinate love to a young man but of mean parentage, in her father’s
court, named Antiphilus: so mean, as that he was but the son of her
nurse, and by that means, without other desert, became known of her.
Now so evil could she conceal her fire, and so wilfully persevered she
in it that her father offering her the marriage of the great
Tiridates, king of Armenia, who desired her more than the joys of
heaven, she for Antiphilus’s sake refused it. Many ways her father
sought to withdraw her from it, sometimes by persuasions, sometimes by
threatenings; once, hiding Antiphilus, and giving her to understand
that he was fled the country, lastly, making a solemn execution to be
done of another under the name of Antiphilus, whom he kept in prison.
But neither she liked persuasions, nor feared threatenings, nor
changed for absence: and when she thought him dead, she sought all
means, as well by poison as knife, to send her soul, at least to be
married in the eternal church with him. This so broke the tender
father’s heart, that, leaving things as he found them, he shortly
after died. Then forthwith Erona, being seized of the crown, and
arming her will with authority, sought to advance her affection to the
holy title of matrimony.
“But before she could accomplish all the solemnities, she was
overtaken with a war the King Tiridates made upon her, only for her
person, towards whom, for her ruin, love had kindled his cruel heart,
indeed cruel and tyrannous; for being far too strong in the field, he
spared no man, woman, nor child; but, as though there could be found
no foil to set forth the extremity of his love, but extremity of
hatred, wrote, as it were, the sonnets of his love in the blood, and
turned them in the cries of her subjects; although his fair sister
Artaxia, who would accompany him in the army, sought all means to
appease his fury: till lastly, he besieged Erona in her best city,
vowing to win her, or lose his life. And now had he brought her to the
point either of a woeful consent, or a ruinous denial, when there came
thither, following the course which virtue and fortune led them, two
excellent young princes, Pyrocles and Musidorus, the one prince of
Macedon, the other of Thessalia: two princes as Plangus said, and he
witnessed his saying with sighs and tears, the most accomplished both
in body and mind that the sun ever looked upon.” While Philoclea spoke
those words; O sweet words, thought Zelmane to herself, which are not
only a praise to me, but a praise to praise herself, which out of that
mouth issueth.
“Those two princes,” said Philoclea, “as well to help the weaker,
especially being a lady as to save a Greek people from being ruined by
such whom we call and count barbarous, gathering {193} together such
of the honestest Lycians as would venture their lives to succour their
princess; giving order by a secret message, they sent into the city
that they should issue with all force at an appointed time: they set
upon Tiridates’s camp with so well guided a fierceness that being on
both sides assaulted, he was like to be overthrown, but that this
Plangus, being general of Tiridates’s horsemen, especially aided by
the two mighty men Euardes and Barzanes, rescued the footmen, even
almost defeated: but yet could not bar the princes, with their
succours both of men and victual, to enter the city.
“Which when Tiridates found would make the war long, which length
seemed to him worse than a languishing consumption, he made a
challenge of three princes in his retinue, against those two princes
and Antiphilus: and that thereupon the quarrel should be decided, with
compact that neither side should help his fellow, but of whose side
the more overcame, with him the victory should remain. Antiphilus
(though Erona chose rather to bide the brunt of war, than venture him,
yet) could not for shame refuse the offer, especially since the two
strangers that had no interest in it, did willingly accept it: besides
that, he saw it like enough, that the people, weary of the miseries of
war, would rather give him up, if they saw him shrink, than for his
sake venture their ruin, considering that the challengers were of far
greater worthiness than himself. So it was agreed upon; and against
Pyrocles was Euardes king of Bithynia; Barzanes of Hyrcania against
Musidorus, two men, that thought the world scarce able to resist them;
and against Antiphilus he placed this same Plangus, being his own
cousin-german, and son to the king of Iberia. Now so it fell out, that
Musidorus slew Barzanes, and Pyrocles Euardes, which victory those
princes esteemed above all that ever they had: but of the other side
Plangus took Antiphilus prisoner: under which colour, as if the matter
had been equal, though indeed it was not, the greater part being
overcome of his side, Tiridates continued his war: and to bring Erona
to a compelled yielding, sent her word that he would the third morrow
after, before the walls of the town, strike off Antiphilus’s head,
without his suit in that space were granted, adding, withal, because
he had heard of her desperate affection, that, if in the meantime she
did herself any hurt, what tortures could be devised should be lain
upon Antiphilus.
“Then lo, if Cupid be a god, or that the tyranny of our own thoughts
seem as a god unto us: but whatsoever it was then it did set forth the
miserableness of his effects; she being drawn to two contraries by one
cause (for the love of him commanded her to yield to no other; the
love of him commanded her to {194} preserve his life); which knot
might well be cut, but untied it could not be. So that love in her
passions, like a right make-bate, whispered to both sides arguments of
quarrel. ‘What,’ said he, ‘of the one side, dost thou love Antiphilus,
O Erona! and shall Tiridates enjoy thy body? With what eyes wilt thou
look upon Antiphilus, when he shall know that another possesseth thee?
but if thou wilt do it, canst thou do it? canst thou force thy heart?
think with thyself, if this man have thee, thou shalt never have more
part of Antiphilus than if he were dead. But thus much more, that the
affectation shall be still gnawing, and the remorse still present.
Death perhaps will cool the rage of thy affection: where thus, thou
shalt ever love, and ever lack. Think this beside, if thou marry
Tiridates, Antiphilus is so excellent a man that long he cannot be
from being in some high place married; can’st thou suffer that too? if
another kill him, he doth him the wrong; if thou abuse thy body, thou
dost him the wrong. His death is a work of nature, and either now, or
at another time he shall die. But it shall be thy work, thy shameful
work, which is in thy power to shun, to make him live to see thy faith
falsified, and his bed defiled.’ But when love had well kindled that
party of her thoughts, then went he to the other side. ‘What,’ said
he, ‘O Erona, and is thy love of Antiphilus come to that point, as
thou dost now make it a question whether he shall die, or no? O
excellent affection, which for too much love will see his head off.
Mark well the reasons of the other side, and thou shalt see it is but
love of thyself which so disputeth. Thou can’st not abide Tiridates:
this is but love of thyself; thou shalt be ashamed to look upon him
afterwards; this is but fear of shame, and love of thyself; thou shalt
want him as much then; this is but love of thyself: he shall be