The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia
the cold mercy of the sea than to abide the hot cruelty of the fire;
and that therefore, though they both had abandoned the ship, that he
was (if any were) in that course to be met withal. They steered
therefore as near thitherward as they could: but when they came so
near that their eyes were full masters of the object, they saw a sight
full of piteous strangeness: a ship, or rather the carcase of the
ship, or rather some few bones of the carcase hulling there, part
broken, part burned, part drowned: death having used more than one
dart to that destruction. About it floated great store of very rich
things and many chests which might promise no less. And amidst the
precious things were a number of dead bodies, which likewise did not
only testify both elements’ violence, but that the chief violence was
grown of human inhumanity: for their bodies were full of grisly
wounds, and their blood had (as it were) filled the wrinkles of the
sea’s visage; which it seemed the sea would not wash away, that it
might witness that it is not always its fault when we do condemn its
cruelty. In sum, a defeat where the conquered kept both field and
spoil: a shipwreck without storm or ill-footing: and a waste of fire
in the midst of the water.
But a little way off they saw the mast, whose proud height now lay
along; like a widow having lost her mate of whom she held her honour:
but upon the mast they saw a young man (at least if he were a man)
bearing show of about eighteen years of age, who sat (as on
horse-back) having nothing upon him but his shirt, which being wrought
with blue silk and gold had a kind of resemblance to the sea: on which
the sun (then near his western home) did shoot some of his beams. His
hair (which the young men of Greece used to wear very long) was
stirred up and down with the wind, which seemed to have a sport to
play with it, as the sea had to kiss his feet; himself full of
admirable beauty, set forth by the strangeness both of his seat and
gesture. For, holding his head up full of unmoved majesty he held a
sword aloft with his fair arm, which often he waved about his crown,
as though he would threaten the world in that extremity. But the
fishermen, when they came so near him that it was time to throw out a
rope by which hold they might draw him, their simplicity bred such
amazement, and their amazement such superstition that (assuredly
thinking it was some God begotten between Neptune and Venus that had
made all this terrible slaughter), as they went under sail by him,
held up their hands and made their prayers. Which when Musidorus saw,
though he were almost as much ravished with joy as they with
astonishment, he leaped to the mariner, and took the cord out of his
hand, and (saying, “Dost thou live, and art thou well,” who answered,
“Thou canst tell best, {6} since most of my well-being stands in
thee,”) threw it out, but already the ship was passed beyond Pyrocles:
and therefore Musidorus could do no more but persuade the mariners to
cast about again, assuring them that he was but a man, although of
most divine excellencies, and promising great rewards for their pains.
And now they were already come upon the stays; when one of the sailors
descried a galley which came with sails and oars directly in the chase
of them; and straight perceived it was a well-known pirate who hunted
not only for goods but for bodies of men, which he employed either to
be his galley-slaves or to sell at the best market. Which when the
matter understood, he commanded forthwith to set on all the canvas he
could and fly homeward, leaving in that fort poor Pyrocles so near to
be rescued. But what did not Musidorus say, what did he not offer to
persuade them to venture to fight; but fear standing at the gates of
their ears, put back all persuasions: so that he had nothing whatever
to accompany Pyrocles but his eyes, nought to succour him but his
wishes. Therefore praying for him, and casting a long look that way,
he saw the galley leave the pursuit of them and turn to take up the
spoils of the other wreck: and lastly he might well see them lift up
the young man; and “alas,” said he to himself, “dear Pyrocles, shall
that body of thine be enchained, shall those victorious hands of thine
be commanded to base offices, shall virtue become a slave to those
that be slaves to viciousness, alas, better had it been thou hadst
ended nobly thy noble days: what death is so evil as unworthy
servitude?”
But that opinion soon ceased when he saw the galley setting upon
another ship, which held long and strong fight with her: for then he
began afresh to fear the life of his friend, and to wish well to the
pirates whom before he hated, lest in their ruin he might perish. But
the fishermen made such speed into the haven, that they absented his
eyes from beholding the issue: where being entered, he could not
procure neither them, or any other as then, to put themselves into the
sea: so that being so full of sorrow for being unable to do anything
as void of counsel how to do anything, besides that sickness grew
something upon him, the honest shepherds Strephon and Claius (who
being themselves true friends did the more perfectly judge the
justness of his sorrow) advise him that he should mitigate somewhat of
his woe, since he had gotten an amendment in fortune, being come from
assured persuasion of his death to have no cause to despair of his
life: as one that had lamented the death of his sheep should after
know they were but strayed would receive pleasure, though readily he
knew not where to find them.
{7}
“Now, Sir,” said they, “thus for ourselves it is; we are in profession
but shepherds, and in this country of Laconia little better than
strangers, and therefore neither in skill nor ability of power greatly
to stead you. But what we can present unto you is this: Arcadia, of
which country we are, is but a little way hence; and even upon the
next confines there dwelleth a gentleman, by name Kalander, who
vouchsafest much favour unto us: a man who for his hospitality is so
much haunted that no news stir but comes to his ears; for his upright
dealings so beloved of his neighbours, that he hath many ever ready to
do him their uttermost service; and by the great goodwill our prince
bears him may soon obtain the use of his name and credit, which hath
a principal sway, not only in his own Arcadia, but in all these
countries of Peloponnesus: and (which is worth all) all these things
give him not so much power, as his nature gives him will to benefit:
so that it seems no music is so sweet to his ears as deserved thanks.
To him we will bring you, and there you may recover again your health,
without which you cannot be able to make any diligent search for your
friend; and therefore you must labour for it. Besides, we are sure the
comfort of courtesy and ease of wise counsel shall not be wanting.”
Musidorus (who, besides he was merely unacquainted in the country, had
his wits astonished with sorrow) gave easy consent to that from which
he saw no reason to disagree: and therefore (defraying the mariners
with a ring bestowed upon them) they took their journey together
through Laconia; Claius and Strephon by course carrying his chest for
him, Musidorus only bearing in his countenance evident marks of a
sorrowful mind, supported with a weak body; which they perceiving, and
knowing that the violence of sorrow is not, at the first, to be
striven withal (being like a mighty beast, sooner tamed with following
than overthrown by withstanding), they gave way unto it, for that day
and the next; never troubling him, either with asking questions or
finding fault with his melancholy; but rather fitting to his dolour,
dolorous discourses of their own and other folks’ misfortunes. Which
speeches, though they had not a lively entrance to his senses shut up
in sorrow, yet like one half asleep he took hold of much of the matter
spoken unto him, for that a man may say, ere sorrow was aware, they
made his thoughts bear away something else beside his own sorrow,
which wrought so in him, that at length he grew content to mark their
speeches, then to marvel at such wit in shepherds, after to like their
company, and lastly to vouchsafe conference: so that the third day
after, in the time that the morning did strew roses and violets in the
heavenly floor against the coming of the sun, the nightingales
(striving one with the other {8} which could in most dainty variety
recount their wrong-caused sorrow) made them put off their sleep, and
rising from under a tree (which that night had been their pavilion)
they went on their journey, which by and by welcomed Musidorus’s eyes
(wearied with the wasted soil of Laconia) with delightful prospects.
There were hills which garnished their proud heights with stately
trees; humble valleys whose base estate seemed comforted with the
refreshing of silver rivers; meadows, enamelled with all sorts of
eye-pleasing flowers; thickets, which, being lined with most pleasant
shade, were witnessed so too by the cheerful disposition of many
well-tuned birds; each pasture stored with sheep feeding with sober
security, while the pretty lambs with bleating oratory craved the
dams’ comfort; here a shepherd’s boy piping, as though he should never
be old; there a young shepherdess knitting, and withal singing, and it
seemed that her voice comforted her hands to work and her hands kept
time to her voice-music. As for the houses of the country (for many
houses came under their eye) they were all scattered, no two being one
by the other, and yet not so far off as that it barred mutual succour:
a show, as it were, of an accompanable solitariness and of a civil
wildness. “I pray you,” said Musidorus, then first unsealing his long
silent lips: “what countries be these we pass through, which are so
divers in show, the one wanting no store, the other having no store
but of want?”
“The country,” answered Claius, “where you were cast ashore and now
are passed through is Laconia, not so poor by the barrenness of the
soil (though in itself not passing fertile) as by a civil war, which
being these two years within the bowels of that estate, between the
gentlemen and the peasants (by them named Helots), hath in this fort
as it were disfigured the face of nature, and made it so unhospitable
as now you have found it: the towns neither of the one side nor the
other willingly opening their gates to strangers, nor strangers
willingly entering for fear of being mistaken.
“But this country where now you set your foot is Arcadia: and even
hard by is the house of Kalander, whither we lead you. This country
being thus decked with peace and (the child of peace) good husbandry,
these houses you see so scattered are of men, as we two are, that live
upon the commodity of their sheep; and therefore in the division of
the Arcadian estate are termed shepherds: a happy people, wanting
little, because they desire not much.”
“What cause then,” said Musidorus, “made you venture to leave this
sweet life, and put yourself in yonder unpleasant and dangerous
realm?” “Guarded with poverty,” answered Strephon, “and {9} guided
with love.” “But now,” said Claius, “since it hath pleased you to ask
anything of us, whose baseness is such as the very knowledge is
darkness, give us leave to know something of you, and of the young man
you so much lament, that at least we may be the better instructed to
inform Kalander, and he the better know how to proportion his
entertainment.”
Musidorus, according to the agreement between Pyrocles and him to
alter their names answered that he called himself Palladius and his
friend Daiphantus; “but till I have him again,” said he, “I am indeed
nothing, and therefore my story is of nothing; his entertainment