The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia

by Philip Sidney

“Stay, stay, Philanax,” said she, “do not defile thy honest mouth with those dishonourable speeches thou art about to utter against a woman, now most wretched, lately thy mistress. Let either the remembrance how great she was move thy heart to some reverence, or the seeing how low she is, stir in thee some pity. It may be truth doth make thee deal untruly, and love of justice frames injustice in thee, do not therefore, neither shalt thou need, tread upon my desolate ruins. Thou shalt have what thou seekest; and yet shalt not be oppressor of her, who cannot choose but love thee for thy singular faith to thy master. I do not speak this to procure mercy, or to prolong my life, no, no, I say unto you I will not live, but I am only loth, my death should be engrieved with any wrong thou shouldst do unto me. I have been too painful a judge over myself to desire pardon in others’ judgment. I have been too cruel an executioner of my own soul to desire that execution of justice should be staid for me. Alas, they that know how sorrow can rend the spirits, they that know what fiery hells are contained in a self-condemning mind, need not fear that fear can keep such an one from desiring to be separated from that which nothing but death can separate. I therefore say to thee, O just judge, that I, and only I, was the worker of Basilius’s death. They were these hands that gave unto him the poisonous potion that hath brought death to him, and loss to Arcadia; it was I, and none but I, that hastened his aged years to an unnatural end, and that have made all his people orphans of their royal father. I am the subject that have killed my prince, I am the wife that have murdered my husband, I am a degenerate woman, an undoer of this country, a shame of my children. What wouldst thou have said more, O Philanax! and all this I grant, there resteth then nothing else to say but that I desire you, you will appoint quickly some to rid me of my life, rather than these hands, which else are destined unto it, and that indeed it may be done with such speed as I may not long die in this life, which I have in so great horror.” With that she crossed her arms, and sat down upon the ground, attending the judge’s answer. But a great while it was, before anybody could be heard speak, the whole people concurring in a lamentable cry, so much had Gynecia’s words and behaviour stirred their hearts to a doleful compassion, neither in troth could most of them in their judgments tell whether they should be more sorry for her fault, or her misery; for the loss of her estate, or loss of her virtue. But most were most moved with that which was under their eyes, the sense most subject to pity. But at length the reverent awe they stood in of Euarchus brought them to a silent waiting his determination, who, having well considered the abomination of the fact, attending more the manifest proof of so horrible a trespass, confessed by herself, and proved by others, than anything relenting to those tragical phrases of hers, apter to stir a vulgar pity than his mind, which hated evil in what colours soever he found it, having considered a while with the principal men of the country, and demanded their allowance, he definitively gave this sentence: “That whereas, both in private and public respects, this woman had most heinously offended, in private, because marriage being the most holy conjunction that falls to mankind, out of which all families, and so consequently all societies do proceed, which not only by community of goods, but community of children, is to knit the minds in a most perfect union, which whoso breaks, dissolves all humanity, no man living free from the danger of so near a neighbour, she had not only broken it, but broken it with death, and the most pretended death that might be: in public respect, the princes’ persons, being in all monarchal governments the very knot of the people’s welfare, and light of all her doings, to which they are not only in conscience, but in necessity bound to be loyal, she had traitorously empoisoned him, neither regarding her country’s profit, her own duty, nor the rigour of the laws. That therefore, as well for the due satisfaction to eternal justice, and accomplishment of the Arcadian statutes, as for the everlasting example to all wives and subjects, she should presently be conveyed to close prison, and there kept with such food as might serve to sustain her life, until the day of her husband’s burial, at which time she should be buried quick, in the same tomb with him: that so his murder might be a murder to herself, and she forced to keep company with the body from which she had made so detestable a severance; and lastly, death might redress their disjoined conjunction of marriage.” His judgment was received of the whole assembly, as not with disliking, so with great astonishment, the greatness of the matter and person as it were overpressing the might of their conceits. But when they did set it to the beam, with the monstrousness of her ugly misdeed, they could not but yield in their hearts, there was no over-balancing. As for Gynecia, who had already settled her thoughts, not only to look but long for this event, having, in this time of her vexation, found a sweetness in the rest she hoped by death, with a countenance witnessing she had before-hand so passed through all the degrees of sorrow, that she had no new look to figure forth any more, rose up, and offered forth her fair hands to be bound or led as they would, being indeed troubled with no part of this judgment, but that her death was as she thought long delayed. They that were appointed for it, conveyed her to the place she was in before, where the guard was relieved, and the number increased to keep her more sure for the time of her execution: none of them all that led her, though most of them were such whose hearts had been long hardened with the often exercising such offices, being able to bar tears from their eyes, and other manifest tokens of compassionate sorrow. So goodly a virtue is a resolute constancy, that even in evil deservers, it seems that party might have been notably well deserving. Thus the excellent lady Gynecia, having passed five and thirty years of her age, even to the admiration of a beautiful mind and body, and having not in her own knowledge ever spotted her soul with any wilful vice, but her immoderate love of Zelmane, was brought first by that ill-answered passion, and then by the despairing conceit she took of the judgment of God in her husband’s death and her own fortune, purposely to overthrow herself, and confirm by a wrong confession, that abominable shame, which with her wisdom, joined to the truth, perhaps she might have repelled.

Then did Euarchus ask Philanax, whether it were he that would charge the two young prisoners, or that some other should do it, and he sit, according to his estate, as an assistant in the judgment. Philanax told him as before he had done, that he thought no man could say manifest the naughtiness of those two young men with so much either truth or zeal as himself, and therefore he desired he might do this last service to his faithfully beloved master, as to prosecute the traitorous causers of his death and dishonour, which being done, for his part he meant to give up all dealing in public affairs, since that man was gone who had made him love them. Philanax thus being ready to speak, the two princes were commanded to tell their names, who answered, according to their agreements, that they were Daiphantus of Lycia, and Palladius Prince of Iberia. Which when they had said, they demanded to know by what authority they could judge of them, since they were not only foreigners, and so not born under their laws, but absolute princes, and therefore not to be touched by laws. But answer was presently made them that Arcadian laws were to have their force upon any found in Arcadia: since strangers have scope to know the customs of a country, before they put themselves in it: and when they once are entered, they must know that what by many was made must not for one be broken. And so much less for a stranger, as he is to look for no privilege in that place, to which in time of need his service is not to be expected. As for their being princes, whether they were so or no, the belief stood in their own words, which they had so diversly falsified, as they did not deserve belief. But whatsoever they were, Arcadia was to acknowledge them but as private men, since they were neither by magistracy nor alliance to the princely blood, to claim anything in that region. Therefore if they had offended, which now by the plaintiff and their defence was to be judged, against the laws of nations, by the laws of nations they were to be chastised: if against the peculiar ordinances of the province, those peculiar ordinances were to lay hold of them.

The princes stood a while upon that, demanding leisure to give perfect knowledge of their greatness; but when they were answered, that in a case of the prince’s death, the law of that country had ever been that immediate trial should be had, they were forced to yield, resolved that in those names they would as much as they could cover the shame of their royal parentage, and keep as long as might be, if evil were determined against them, the evil news from their careful kinsfolks, wherein the chief man they considered was Euarchus: whom the strange and secret working of justice had brought to be the judge over them. In such a shadow, or rather pit of darkness, the wormish mankind lives, that neither they know how to foresee, nor what to fear, and are but like tennis balls, tossed by the racket of the higher powers. Thus both sides ready, it was determined, because their cases were separated, first Philanax should be heard against Pyrocles, whom they termed Daiphantus, and that heard, the other’s cause should follow, and so receive together such judgment as they should be found to have deserved.

But Philanax that was even short-breathed at the first, with the extreme vehemency he had to speak against them, stroking once or twice his forehead, and wiping his eyes, which either wept, or he would at that time have them seem to weep, looking first upon Pyrocles, as if he had proclaimed all hatefulness against him, humbly turning to Euarchus, who with quiet gravity showed great attention, he thus began his oration: “That which all men, who take upon them to accuse another, are wont to desire, most worthy protector, to have many proofs of faults in them they seek to have condemned, that is to me in this present action my greatest cumber and annoyance. For the number is so great, and the quality so monstrous of the enormities this wretched young man hath committed, that neither I in myself can tell where to begin, my thoughts being confused with the horrible multitude of them, neither do I think your virtuous ears will be able to endure the report, but will rather imagine you hear some tragedy invented of the extremity of wickedness, than a just recital of a wickedness indeed committed: for such is the disposition of the most sincere judgments, that as they can believe mean faults, and such as man’s nature may slide into, so when they pass to a certain degree, nay, when they pass all degrees of unspeakable naughtiness, then find they in themselves a hardness to give credit that human creatures can so from all humanity be transformed. But in myself the strength of my faith to my dead master will help the weakness of my memory; in you, your excellent love of justice will force you to vouchsafe attention: and as for the matter, it is so manifest, so pitiful evidences lie before your eyes of it, that I shall need to be but a brief recounter, and no rhetorical enlarger of this most harmful mischief. I will therefore, in as few words as so huge a trespass can be obtained, deliver unto you the sum of this miserable fact: leaving out a great number of particular tokens of his naughtiness, and only touching the essential points of this doleful case. This man, whom to begin withal I know not how to name, since being come into this country, unaccompanied like a lost pilgrim, from a man grew a woman, from a woman a ravisher of women, thence a prisoner, and now a prince: but this Zelmane, this Daiphantus, this what you will, for any shape or title he can take upon him, that hath no restraint of shame, having understood the solitary life my late master lived, and considering how open he had laid himself to any traitorous attempt, for the first mask of his falsehood, disguised himself like a woman, which being the more simple and hurtless sex, might easier hide his subtle harmfulness. And presenting himself to my master, the most courteous prince that lived, was received of him with so great graciousness that might have bound not only any grateful mind, but might have mollified any enemy’s rancour. But this venomous serpent, admitted thus into his bosom, as contagion will easily find a fit body for it, so had he quickly fallen into so near acquaintance with this naughty woman, whom even now you have most justly condemned, that this was her right hand, she saw with no eyes but his, nor seemed to have any life but in him, so glad she was to find one more cunning than herself in covering wickedness with a modest veil. What is to be thought passed betwixt two such virtuous creatures, whereof the one hath confessed murder, and the other rape, I leave to your wise consideration. For my heart hastens to the miserable point of Basilius’s murder, for the executing of which with more facility, this young nymph of Diana’s bringing up, feigned certain rites she had to perform, so furious an impiety had carried him from all remembrance of goodness that he did not only not fear the gods, as the beholders and punishers of so ungodly a villainy, but did blasphemously use their sacred holy name as a minister unto it. And forsooth a cave hereby was chosen for the temple of his devotions, a cave of such darkness, as did prognosticate he meant to please the infernal powers; for there this accursed caitiff, upon the altar of falsehood, sacrificed the life of the virtuous Basilius. By what means he trained him thither, alas I know not, for if I might have known it, either my life had accompanied my master, or this fellow’s death had preserved him. But this may suffice that in the mouth of this cave, where this traitor had his lodging and chapel, when already master shepherd, his companion, had conveyed away the undoubted inheritrix of this country, was Gynecia found by the dead corpse of her husband, newly empoisoned, apparelled in the garments of the young lady, and ready no question to have fled to some place, according to their consort, but that she was by certain honest shepherds arrested: while in the meantime, because there should be left no revenger of this bloody mischief, this noble Amazon was violently gotten into the chamber of the Lady Philoclea, where by the mingling, as much as in him lay, of her shame with his misdeed, he might enforce her to be accessory to her father’s death, and under the countenance of her and her sister, against whom they knew we would not rebel, seize as it were with one grip into their treacherous hands, the regiment of this mighty province. But the Almighty Eye prevented him of the end of his mischief, by using a villain Dametas’s hand to inclose him in there, where with as much fortification as in a house could be made, he thought himself in most security. Thus see you most just judge, a short and simple story of the infamous misery fallen upon this country; indeed infamous, since by an effeminate man we should suffer a greater overthrow than our mightiest enemies have been ever able to lay upon us. And that all this, which I have said is most manifest, as well of the murdering of Basilius, as the ravishing of Philoclea, for those two parts I establish of my accusation, who is of so incredulous a mind, or rather who will so stop his eyes from seeing a thing clearer than the light, as not to hold for assured so palpable a matter? For to begin with his most cruel misdeed, is it to be imagined that Gynecia, a woman though wicked, yet witty, would have attempted and achieved an enterprise, no less hazardous than horrible, without having some counsellor in the beginning, and some comforter in the performing? had she, who showed her thoughts were so over-ruled with some strange desire, as in despite of God, nature, and womanhood, to execute that in deeds, which in words we cannot hear without trembling? Had she, I say, no practice to lead her unto it? or had she a practice without conspiracy? or could she conspire without somebody to conspire with? and if one were, who so likely as this, to whom she communicated I am sure her mind, the world thinks her body? neither let her words, taking the whole fault upon herself, be herein anything available. For to those persons who have vomited out of their souls all remnants of goodness, there rests a certain pride in evil, and having else no shadow of glory left them, they glory to be constant in iniquity, and that, God knows, must be held out to the last gasp, without revealing their accomplices; as thinking great courage is declared in being neither afraid of the heavens, nor ashamed of the world. But let Gynecia’s action die with herself, what can all the earth answer for his coming hither? Why alone, if he be a prince? How so richly jewelled if he be not a prince? Why then a woman if now a man? Why now Daiphantus, if then Zelmane? Was all this play for nothing, or if it had an end, what end but the end of my dear master? Shall we doubt so many secret conferences with Gynecia, such feigned favour to the over-soon beguiled Basilius, a cave made a lodging, and the same lodging made a temple of his religion, lastly, such changes and traverses, as a quiet poet could scarce fill a poem withal, were directed to any less scope than to this monstrous murderer? O snaky ambition, which can wind thyself in so many figures, to slide thither thou desirest to come! O corrupted reason of mankind, that can yield to deform thyself with so filthy desires? and O hopeless be those minds whom so unnatural desires do not with their own ugliness sufficiently terrify! But yet even of favour let us grant him thus much more, as to fancy that in these foretold things, fortune might be a great actor, perchance to an evil end, yet to a less evil end all these entangled devices were intended. But I beseech your ladyship, my Lady Daiphantus, tell me what excuse can you find for the changing your lodging with the queen that very instant she was to finish her execrable practice? how can you cloak the lending of your cloak unto her. Was all that by chance too? Had the stars sent such an influence unto you, as you should be just weary of your lodging and garments when our prince was destined to the slaughter? What say you to this, O shameful and shameless creature? fit indeed to be the dishonour of both sexes. But alas! I spend too many words in so manifest and so miserable a matter. They must be four wild horses, which according to our laws are the executioners of men which murder our prince, which must decide this question with you. Yet see so far had my zeal to my beloved prince transported me that I had almost forgotten my second part, and his second abomination, I mean his violence offered to the Lady Philoclea: wherewith as if it had well become his womanhood, he came braving to the judgment-seat: indeed our laws appoint not so cruel a death, although death too, for this fact as for the other. But whosoever well weighs it shall find it sprung out of the same fountain of mischievous naughtiness, the killing of the father, dishonouring the mother, and ravishing the child. Alas, could not so many benefits received of my prince, the justice of nature, the sign of hospitality be a bridle to thy lust, if not to thy cruelty? or if thou hadst, as surely thou hast, a heart recompensing goodness with hatred, could not his death, which is the last of revenges, satisfy thy malice, but thou must heap upon it the shame of his daughter? Were thy eyes so stony, thy breast so tigerish, that the sweet and beautiful shows of Philoclea’s virtue did not astonish thee? O woeful Arcadia, to whom the name of this mankind courtesan shall ever be remembered as a procurer of thy greatest loss! But too far I find my passion, yet honest passion hath guided me; the cause is every way too, too much unanswerable. It resteth in you, O excellent protector, to pronounce judgment, which if there be hope that such a young man may prove profitable to the world, who in the first exercise of his own determination, far passed the arrantest strumpet in luxuriousness, the cunningest forger in falsehood, a player in disguising, a tiger in cruelty, a dragon in ungratefulness, let him be preserved like a jewel to do greater mischief. If his youth be not more defiled with treachery than the eldest man’s age, let, I say, his youth be some cause of compassion. If he have not every way sought the overthrow of human society, if he have done anything like a prince, let his naming himself a prince breed a reverence of his base wickedness. If he have not broken all the laws of hospitality, and broken them in the most detestable degree that can be, let his being a guest be a sacred protection of his more than savage doings: or if his whorish beauty, have not been as the high way of his wickedness, let the picture drawn upon so poisonous a wood, be reserved to show how greatly colours can please us. But if it is as it is, what should I say more, a very spirit of hellish naughtiness; if his act be to be punished, and his defiled person not to be pitied, then restore unto us our prince by duly punishing his murderers, for then we shall think him and his name to live when we shall see his killers to die. Restore to the excellent Philoclea her honour, by taking out of the world her dishonour, and think that at this day, in this matter, are the eyes of the world upon you, whether anything can sway your mind from a true administration of justice. Alas! though I have much more to say, I can say no more, for my tears and sighs interrupt my speech, and force me to give myself over to my private sorrow.”

Thus when Philanax had uttered the uttermost of his malice, he made sorrow the cause of his conclusion. But while Philanax was in the course of his speech, and did with such bitter reproaches defame the princely Pyrocles, it was well to be seen, his heart was unused to bear such injuries, and his thoughts such as could arm themselves better against anything than shame. For sometimes blushing, his blood with divers motions coming and going, sometimes closing his eyes, and laying his hand over them, sometimes giving such a look to Philanax, as might show he assured himself he durst not so have spoken if they had been in an indifferent place: with some impatiency he bare the length of his oration; which being ended, with as much modest humbleness to the judge, as despiteful scorn to the accuser, with words to this purpose he defended his honour.

“My accuser’s tale may well bear witness with me, most rightful judge, in how hard a case, and environed with how many troubles, I may esteem myself. For if he who shows his tongue is not unacquainted with railing, was in an agony in the beginning of his speech with the multitude of the matters he had to lay unto me, wherein notwithstanding the most evil could fall unto him was that he should not do so much evil as he would, how cumbered do you think may I acknowledge myself, who, in things no less importing than my life, must be mine own advocate, without leisure to answer, or foreknowledge what should be objected? in things, I say, promoted with so cunning confusion, as having mingled truths with falsehoods, surmises with certainties, causes of no moment with matters capital, scolding with complaining, I can absolutely neither grant nor deny, neither can I tell whether I come hither to be judged, or before judgment to be punished, being compelled to hear such unworthy words, far more grievous than any death unto me. But since the form of this government allows such tongue-liberty unto him, I will pick as well as I can out of his invective speech those few points which may seem of some purpose in the touching of me, hoping that by your easy hearing of me, you will show that though you hate evil, yet you wish men may prove themselves not evil; so in that he hath said, you will not weigh so much what he hath said as what he hath proved, remembering that truth is simple and naked, and that if he had guided himself under that banner, he needed not out of the way have sought so vile and false disgracing of me, enough to make the untruest accusation believed. I will therefore, using truth as my best eloquence, repeat unto you as much as I know in this matter, and then, by the only clearness of the discourse, your wisdom I know will find the difference between cavilling supposition, and direct declaration. This Prince Palladius and I being inflamed with love, a passion far more easily reprehended than refrained, to the two peerless daughters of Basilius, and understanding how he had secluded himself from the world, that, like princes, there was no access unto him, we disguised ourselves, in such forms as might soonest bring us to the revealing our affections. The Prince Palladius had such event of his doings that, with Pamela’s consent, he was to convey her out of the thraldom she lived in, to receive the subjection of a greater people than her own, until her father’s consent might be obtained. My fortune was more hard, for I bare no more love to the chaste Philoclea, than Basilius, deceived in my sex, showed to me, insomuch that by his importunacy, I could have no time to obtain the like favour of the pure Philoclea, till this policy I found, taking under colour of some devotions, my lodging, to draw Basilius thither, with hope to enjoy me; which likewise I revealed to the queen, that she might keep my place, and so make her husband see his error. While I in the meantime, being delivered of them both, and having locked so the doors as I hoped, if the immaculate Philoclea would condescend to go with me, there should be none to hinder our going, I was made prisoner there, I know not by what means, when being repelled by her divine virtue, I would fainest have escaped. Here you have the thread to guide you in the labyrinth, this man of his tongue, had made so monstrous. Here you see the true discourse, which he mountebank-fashion doth make so wide a mouth over. Here may you conceive the reason why the queen had my garment, because in her going to the cave, in the moon-shine night, she might be taken for me, which he useth as the knot of all his wise assertions: so that as this double-minded fellow’s accusation was double, double likewise my answer must perforce be, to the murder of Basilius, and violence offered to the inviolate Philoclea. For the first, O heavenly gods, who would have thought any mouth could have been found so mercenary as to have opened so slight proofs of so horrible matters! His first argument is a question, who would imagine that Gynecia would accomplish such an act, without some accessories? and if any, who but I? truly I am so far from imagining anything, that till I saw these mourning tokens, and heard Gynecia’s confession, I never imagined the king was dead. And for my part so vehemently, and more like the manner of passionate than guilty folk, I see the queen persecute herself, that I think condemnation may go too hastily over her, considering the unlikelihood, if not impossibility, her wisdom and virtue so long nourished, should in one moment throw down itself to the uttermost end of wickedness. But whatsoever she hath done, which, as I say, I never believed, yet how unjustly should that aggravate my fault? she found abroad, I within doors, for as for the wearing my garment I have told you the cause, she seeking, as you say, to escape, I locking myself in a house: without perchance the conspiracy of one poor stranger, might greatly enable her attempt, or the fortification of the lodge, as the trim man alleged, might make me hope to resist all Arcadia. And see how treacherously he seeks to draw from me my chiefest clearing, by preventing the credit of her words, wherewith she had wholly taken the fault upon herself. An honest and impartial examiner: her words may condemn her, but may not absolve me. Thus, void of all probable allegation, the craven crows upon my affliction, not leaving out any evil that ever he hath felt in his own soul, to charge my youth withal. But who can look for a sweet breath out of such a stomach? or for honey from so filthy a spider? What should I say more? if in so inhuman a matter, which he himself confesseth, sincerest judgments are lothest to believe, and in the severest laws proofs clearer than the sun are required, his reasons are only the scum of a base malice, my answers most manifest, shining in their own truth, there remain any doubt of it, because it stands betwixt his affirming and my denial, I offer, nay I desire, and humbly desire I may be granted the trial by combat, wherein let him be armed, and me in my shirt, I doubt not justice will be my shield, and his heart will show itself as faint as it is false.

“Now come I to the second part of my offence towards the young lady, which, howsoever you term it, so far forth as I have told you, I confess, and for her sake heartily lament. But if herein I offered force to her, love offered more force to me. Let her beauty be compared to my years, and such effects will be found no miracles. But since it is thus as it is, and that justice teacheth us not to love punishment, but to fly to it for necessity: the salve of her honour, I mean as the world will take it, for else in truth it is most untouched, must be my marriage and not my death, since the one stops all mouths, the other becomes a doubtful fable. This matter requires no more words, and your experience, I hope, in these cases shall need no more; for myself methinks I have showed already too much love of my life to bestow so many. But certainly it hath been love of truth, which could not bear so unworthy falsehood, and love of justice that would brook no wrong to myself nor other, and makes me now, even in that respect to desire you to be moved rather with pity at a just cause of tears, than with the bloody tears this crocodile spends, who weeps to procure death, and not to lament death. It will be no honour to Basilius’s tomb to have guiltless blood sprinkled upon it, and much more may a judge over-weigh himself in cruelty than in clemency. It is hard, but it is excellent where it is found, a right knowledge when correction is necessary, when grace doth more avail. For mine own respect, if I thought in wisdom I had deserved death, I would not desire life: for I know nature will condemn me to die though you do not; and longer I would not wish to draw this breath, than I may keep myself unspotted of any horrible crime; only I cannot, nor ever will deny the love of Philoclea, whose violence wrought violent effects in me.”

With that he finished his speech, casting up his eyes to the judge, and crossing his hands, which he held in their length before him declaring a resolute patience in whatsoever should be done with him. Philanax, like a watchful adversary, curiously marked all that he said, saving that in the beginning he was interrupted by two letters which were brought him from the Princess Pamela, and the Lady Philoclea, who having all that night considered and bewailed their estate, careful for their mother likewise, of whom they could never think so much evil, but considering with themselves that she assuredly should have so due trial by the laws, as either she should not need their help, or should be past their help; they looked to that which nearliest touched them, and each wrote in this sort for him, in whom their lives’ joy consisted.

The humble hearted Philoclea wrote much after this manner:

My Lords, what you will determine of me, it is to me uncertain, but what I have determined of myself, I am most certain, which is no longer to enjoy my life, than I may enjoy him for my husband, whom the heavens for my highest glory have bestowed upon me. Those that judge him, let them execute me. Let my throat satisfy their hunger of murder. For alas what hath he done, that had not its original in me? Look upon him I beseech you with indifferency, and see whether in those eyes all virtue shines not. See whether that face could hide a murder. Take leisure to know him, and then yourselves will say, it hath been too great an inhumanity to suspect such excellency. Are the gods think you deceived in their workmanship? artificers will not use marble but to noble uses. Should those powers be so overshot, as to frame so precious an image of their own, but to honourable purposes? O speak with him, O hear him, O know him, and become not the putters-out of the world’s light. Hope you to joy my father’s soul with hurting him he loved above all the world? shall a wrong suspicion make you forget the certain knowledge of those benefits this house hath received by him? Alas, alas, let not Arcadia for his loss be accursed of the whole earth and of all posterity. He is a great prince, I speak unto you that which I know, for I have seen most evident testimonies. Why should you hinder my advancement? who if I have passed my childhood hurtless to any of you, if I have refused nobody to do what good I could, if I have often mitigated my father’s anger, ever sought to maintain his favour towards you, nay, if I have held you all as fathers and brothers unto me, rob me not of more than my life comes unto. Tear not that which is inseparably joined to my soul; but if he rest misliked of you, which, O God, how can it be, yet give him to me, let me have him, you know I pretend no right to your state. Therefore it is but a private petition I make unto you. Or if you be hard-heartedly bent to appoint otherwise, which, oh, sooner let me die than know, then, to end as I began, let me by you be ordered to the same end: without, for more cruelty, you mean to force Philoclea to use her own hands to kill one of your king’s children.