The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
tennis-court, where his subjects should be the balls, not in truth
cruelly, but licentiously abusing them, presuming so far upon himself,
that what he did was liked of everybody: nay, that his disgraces were
favours, and all because he was a king. For in nature not able to
conceive the bounds of great matters, suddenly borne into an unknown
ocean of absolute power, he was swayed withal, he knew not how, as
every wind of passion puffed him. Whereto nothing helped him better
than that poisonous sugar of flattery, which some used, out of the
innate baseness of their heart, straight like dogs fawning upon the
greatest; others secretly hating him, and disdaining his great rising
so suddenly, so undeservedly, finding his humour, bent their exalting
him only to his overthrow, like the bird that carries the shell-fish
high, to break him the easier with his fall. But his mind, being an
apt matter to receive what form their amplifying speeches would lay
upon it, danced so pretty a measure to their false music, that he
thought himself the wisest and worthiest and best beloved that ever
gave honour to royal title. And being but obscurely born, he had found
out unblushing pedigrees that made him not only of the blood royal,
but true heir, though unjustly dispossessed by Erona’s ancestors. And
like the foolish bird, that when it so hides the head that it sees not
itself, thinks nobody else sees it, so did he imagine that nobody knew
his baseness, while he himself turned his eyes from it.
“Then vainness, a meagre friend to gratefulness, brought him so to
despise Erona, as of whom he had received no benefit, that within half
a year’s marriage he began to pretend barrenness, and making first an
unlawful law of having more wives than one, he still keeping Erona
under-hand, by messages sought Artaxia; who no less hating him than
loving as unlucky a choice, the naughty king Plexirtus, yet to bring
to pass what she purposed, was content to train him into false hopes,
till already his imagination had crowned him king of Armenia, and had
made that but the foundation of more and more monarchies, as if
fortune had only gotten eyes to cherish him. In which time a great
assembly of most part of all the princes of Asia, being to do honour
to the never sufficiently praised Pyrocles and Musidorus, he would be
one; not to acknowledge his obligation, which was as great as any of
the others, but looking to have been young-mastered among those great
estates as he was among his abusing underlings. But so many valorous
princes, indeed far nearer to disdain him than otherwise, he was
quickly, as standing upon no true ground, inwardly out of countenance
with himself, till his seldom comfortless {271} flatterers, persuading
him it was envy and fear of his expected greatness, made him haste
away from that company, and without further delay, appointed the
meeting with Artaxia, so incredibly blinded with the over-bright
shining of his royalty that he could think such a queen would be
content to be joined-patent with another to have such an husband. Poor
Erona to all this obeyed, either vehemency of affection making her
stoop to so over-base a servitude, or astonished with an unlooked-for
fortune, dull to any behoveful resolution, or, as many times it falls
out even in great hearts when they can accuse none but themselves,
desperately bent to maintain it. For so went she on in that way of her
love, that, poor lady, to be beyond all other examples of ill-set
affection, she was brought to write to Artaxia, that she was content,
for the public good to be a second wife, and yield the first place to
her; nay to extol him, and even woo Artaxia for him.
“But Artaxia, mortally hating them both for her brother’s sake, was
content to hide her hate till she had time to show it: and pretending
that all her grudge was against the two paragons of virtue, Musidorus
and Pyrocles, even met them half way in excusing her brother’s murder,
as not being principal actors; and of the other side, driven to what
they did by the ever-pardonable necessity; and so well handled the
matter, as though she promised nothing, yet Antiphilus promised
himself all that she would have him think. And so a solemn interview
was appointed; but, as the poets say, Hymen had not there his
saffron-coloured coat. For Artaxia laying men secretly, and easily
they might be secret, since Antiphilus thought she over-ran him in
love, when he came even ready to embrace her, showing rather a
countenance of accepting than offering, they came forth, and, having
much advantage both in number, valour, and fore-preparation, put all
his company to the sword, but such as could fly away. As for
Antiphilus, she caused him and Erona both to be put in irons,
hastening back towards her brother’s tomb, upon which she meant to
sacrifice them; making the love of her brother stand between her and
all other motions of grace from which by nature she was alienated.
“But great diversity in those two quickly discovered itself for the
bearing of that affliction: for Antiphilus, who had no greatness but
outward, that taken away, was ready to fall faster than calamity could
thrust him; with fruitless begging of life, where reason might well
assure him his death was resolved, and weak bemoaning his fortune, to
give his enemies a most pleasing music, with many promises and
protestations, to as little purpose as from a little mind. But Erona,
sad indeed, yet like one rather used, than new fallen to sadness, as
who had the joys of her heart already broken {272} seemed rather to
welcome than to shun that end of misery; speaking little, but what she
spoke was for Antiphilus, remembering his guiltiness, being at that
time prisoner to Tiridates, when the valiant princess slew him: to the
disgrace of men, showing that there are women both more wise to judge
what is to be expected, and more constant to bear it when it is
happened.
“But her wit endeared by her youth, her affliction by her birth, and
her sadness by her beauty, made this noble prince Plangus, who, never
almost from his cousin Artaxia, was now present at Erona’s taking, to
perceive the shape of loveliness more perfectly in woe than in
joyfulness, as in a picture which receive greater life by the darkness
of shadows than by more glittering colours, and seeing to like, and
liking to love, and loving straight to feel the most incident effects
of love, to serve and preserve. So borne by the hasty tide of short
leisure, he did hastily deliver together his affection, and
affectionate care. But she, as if he had spoken of a small matter,
when he mentioned her life, to which she had not leisure to attend,
desired him if he loved her, to show it, in finding some way to save
Antiphilus. For her, she found the world but a wearisome stage unto
her, where she played a part against her will: and therefore besought
him not to cast his love in so unfruitful a place, as could not love
itself: but for a testimony of constancy, and a suitableness to his
word, to do so much comfort to her mind, as that for her sake
Antiphilus were saved. He told me how much he argued against her
tendering him who had so ungratefully betrayed her and foolishly cast
away himself. But perceiving she did not only bend her very good wits
to speak for him against herself, but when such a cause could be
allied to no reason, yet love would needs make itself a cause, and bar
her rather from hearing, than yield that she should yield to such
arguments: he likewise, in whom the power of love, as they say of
spirits, was subject to the love in her, with grief consented, and
though backwardly, was diligent to labour the help of Antiphilus, a
man whom he not only hated as a traitor to Erona, but envied as a
possessor of Erona; yet love swore his heart, in spite of his heart,
should make him become a servant to his rival. And so did he, seeking
all the means of persuading Artaxia, which the authority of so near
and so virtuous a kinsman could give unto him. But she, to whom the
eloquence of hatred had given revenge the face of delight, rejected
all such motions: but rather the more closely imprisoning them in her
chief city, where she kept them, with intention at the birthday of
Tiridates, which was very near, to execute Antiphilus, and at the day
of his death, which was about half a year after, to use the same
rigour towards Erona. Plangus much grieved, because much loving,
attempted the {273} humours of the Lycians, to see whether they would
come in with forces to succour their princess. But there the next
inheritor to the crown, with the true play that is used in the game of
kingdoms, had no sooner his mistress in captivity, but he had usurped
her place, and making her odious to her people, because of the unfit
election she had made, and so left no hope there: but, which is worse,
had sent to Artaxia, persuading the justicing her, because that
unjustice might give his title the name of justice. Wanting that way,
Plangus practised with some dear friends of his, to save Antiphilus
out of prison, whose day because it was much nearer than Erona’s, and
that he well found she had twisted her life upon the same thread with
his, he determined first to get him out of prison; and to that end
having prepared all matters, as well as in such case he could, where
Artaxia had set many of Tiridates’s old servants to have well-marking
eyes, he conferred with Antiphilus, as, by the authority he had, he
found means to do, and agreed with him of the time and manner how he
should, by the death of some of his jailors, escape. But all being
well ordered, and Plangus willingly putting himself into the greatest
danger, Antiphilus, who like a bladder, swelled ready to break, while
it was full of the wind of prosperity, that being out, was so
abjected, as apt to be trod on by everybody, when it came to the
point, that with some hazard he might be in apparent likelihood to
avoid the uttermost harm, his heart fainted, and, weak fool, neither
hoping nor fearing as he should, got a conceit, that with betraying
this practice, he might obtain pardon: and therefore even a little
before Plangus should have come unto him, opened the whole practice to
him that had the charge, with unpitied tears idly protesting, he had
rather die by Artaxia’s commandment than against her will escape; yet
begging life upon any the hardest and wretchedest conditions that she
would lay upon him. His keeper provided accordingly, so that when
Plangus came, he was like himself to have been entrapped; but that
finding, with a lucky insight, that it was discovered, he retired;
and, calling his friends about him, stood upon his guard, as he had
good cause. For Artaxia, accounting him most ungrateful, considering
that her brother and she had not only preserved him against the malice
of his father, but ever used him much liker his birth than his
fortune, sent forces to apprehend him. But he among the martial men
had gotten so great love that he could not only keep himself from her
malice, but work in their minds a compassion of Erona’s adversity.
“But for the succour of Antiphilus he could get nobody to join with
him, the contempt of him having not been able to qualify the hatred,
so that Artaxia might easily upon him perform {274} her will, which
was (at the humble suit of all the women of that city) to deliver him
to their censure, who mortally hated him for having made a law of
polygamy, after many tortures, forced him to throw himself from a high
pyramid which was built over Tiridates’s tomb, and so to end his
false-hearted life, which had planted no strong thought in him, but
that he could be unkind.
“But Plangus well perceiving that Artaxia stayed only for the
appointed day that the fair Erona’s body, consumed to ashes, should