The Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia

by Philip Sidney

In this place while Gynecia walked hard by them, carrying many unquiet contentions about her, the ladies sat them down, enquiring divers questions of the shepherd Dorus; who keeping his eye still upon Pamela, answered with such a trembling voice, and abashed countenance, and oftentimes so far from the matter, that it was some sport to the young ladies, thinking it want of education which made him so discountenanced with unwonted presence. But Zelmane that saw in him the glass of her own misery, taking the hand of Philoclea, and with burning kisses setting it close to her lips (as if it should stand there like a hand in the margin of a book, to note some saying worthy to be marked) began to speak those words: “O love, since thou art so changeable in men’s estates, how art thou so constant in their torments?” when suddenly there came out of a wood a monstrous lion, with a she-bear not far from him, of a little less fierceness, which, as they guessed, having been hunted in forests far off, were by chance come thither, where before such beast had never been seen. Then care, not fear, or fear, not for themselves, altered something the countenances of the two lovers; but so, as any man might perceive, was rather an assembling of powers, than dismayedness of courage. Philoclea no sooner espied the lion, but, that obeying the commandment of fear, she leaped up, and ran to the lodge-ward, as fast as her delicate legs could carry her, while Dorus drew Pamela behind a tree, where she stood quaking like a partridge on which the hawk is even ready to seize. But the lion, seeing Philoclea run away, bent his race to her-ward, and was ready to seize himself on the prey when Zelmane (to whom danger then was a cause of dreadlessness, all the composition of her elements being nothing but fiery) with swiftness of desire crossed him, and with force of affection struck him such a blow upon his chine, that she opened all his body: wherewith the valiant beast turning her with open jaws, she gave him such a thrust through his breast, that all the lion could do, was with his paw to tear off the mantle and sleeve of Zelmane with a little scratch, rather than a wound, his death-blow having taken away the effect of his force: but therewithal he fell down, and gave Zelmane leisure to take off his head, to carry it for a present to her lady Philoclea, who all this while, not knowing what was done behind her, kept on her course like Arethusa when she ran from Alpheus; her light apparel being carried up with the wind, that much of those beauties she would at another time have willingly hidden, was presented to the sight of the twice wounded Zelmane. Which made Zelmane not follow her over-hastily, lest she should too soon deprive herself of that pleasure, but carrying the lion’s head in her hand, did not fully overtake her till they came to the presence of Basilius. Neither were they long there, but that Gynecia came thither also, who had been in such a trance of musing that Zelmane was fighting with the lion, before she knew of any lion’s coming: but then affection resisting, and the soon ending of the fight preventing all extremity of fear she marked Zelmane’s fighting: and when the lion’s head was off, as Zelmane ran after Philoclea, so she could not find in her heart but run after Zelmane: so that it was a new sight Fortune had prepared to those woods, to see those great personages thus run one after the other, each carried forward with an inward violence; Philoclea with such fear that she thought she was still in the lion’s mouth; Zelmane with an eager and impatient delight; Gynecia with wings of love, flying she neither knew nor cared to know whither. But now being all come before Basilius, amazed with this sight, and fear having such possession in the fair Philoclea that her blood durst not yet come to her face to take away the name of paleness from her most pure whiteness, Zelmane kneeled down and presented the lion’s head unto her: “Only lady,” said she, “here see you the punishment of that unnatural beast, which contrary to his own kind would have wronged prince’s blood, guided with such traitorous eyes, as durst rebel against your beauty.” “Happy am I, and my beauty both (answered the sweet Philoclea then blushing, for fear had bequeathed his room to his kinsman bashfulness) that you, excellent Amazon, were there to teach him good manners.” “And even thanks to that beauty,” answered Zelmane, “which can give an edge to the bluntest swords.”

There Philoclea told her father how it had happened; but as she had turned her eyes in her tale to Zelmane she perceived some blood upon Zelmane’s shoulder, so that starting with the lovely grace and pity she showed it to her father and mother, who, as the nurse sometimes with over-much kissing may forget to give the babe suck, so had they with too much delighting, in beholding and praising Zelmane, left off to mark whether she needed succour. But then they ran both unto her, like a father and mother to an only child, and, though Zelmane assured them it was nothing, would needs see it, Gynecia having skill in chirurgery, an art in those days much esteemed because it served to virtuous courage, which even ladies would, ever with the contempt of cowards, seem to cherish. But looking upon it (which gave more inward bleeding wounds to Zelmane, for she might sometimes feel Philoclea’s touch while she helped her mother) she found it was indeed of no importance; yet applied she a precious balm unto it of power to heal a greater grief.

But even then, and not before, they remembered Pamela, and therefore Zelmane, thinking of her friend Dorus, was running back to be satisfied, when they might all see Pamela coming between Dorus and Dametas, having in her hand the paw of a bear, which the shepherd Dorus had newly presented unto her, desiring her to accept it, as of such a beast, which though she deserved death for her presumption, yet was her wit to be esteemed, since she could make so sweet a choice. Dametas for his part came piping and dancing, the merriest man in a parish: but when he came so near as he might be heard of Basilius, he would needs break through his ears with this joyful song of their good success.

Now thanked be the great god Pan,

Which thus preserves my loved life:

Thanked be I that keep a man,

Who ended hath this bloody strife:

For if my Man must praises have,

What then must I, that keep the knave?

For as the Moon the eye doth please,

With gentle beams not hurting sight:

Yet hath sir Sun the greatest praise,

Because from him doth come her light:

So if my man must praises have,

What then must I, that keep the knave?

Being all now come together, and all desirous to know each other’s adventures, Pamela’s noble heart would needs gratefully make known the valiant means of her safety, which, directing her speech to her mother, she did in this manner: “As soon,” said she, “as ye were all run away, and that I hoped to be in safety, there came out of the same woods a horrible foul bear, which (fearing belike to deal while the lion was present as soon as he was gone) came furiously towards the place where I was, and this young shepherd left alone by me, I truly (not guilty of any wisdom, which since they lay to my charge, because they say it is the best refuge against that beast, but even pure fear bringing forth that effect of wisdom) fell down flat on my face, needing not counterfeit being dead, for indeed I was little better. But this young shepherd with a wonderful courage, having no other weapon but that knife you see, standing before the place where I lay, so behaved himself that the first sight I had, when I thought myself already near Charon’s ferry, was the shepherd showing me his bloody knife in token of victory.” “I pray you (said Zelmane speaking to Dorus, whose valour she was careful to have manifested) in what sort, so ill weaponed, could you achieve this enterprise?” “Noble lady,” said Dorus, “the manner of those beasts fighting with any man, is to stand up upon their hinder feet, and so this did, and being ready to give me a shrewd embracement, I think the god Pan, ever careful of the chief blessing of Arcadia, guided my hand so just to the heart of the beast that neither she could once touch me nor (which is the only matter in this worthy remembrance) breed any danger to the princess. For my part, I am rather, with all subjected humbleness, to thank her excellencies, since the duty thereunto gave me heart to save myself than to receive thanks for a deed which was her only aspiring.” And this Dorus spoke, keeping affection as much as he could back from coming into his eyes and gestures. But Zelmane, that had the same character in her heart, could easily decipher it, and therefore to keep him the longer in speech, desired to understand the conclusion of the matter, and how the honest Dametas was escaped. “Nay,” said Pamela, “none shall take that office from myself, being so much bound to him as I am for my education.” And with that word, scorn borrowing the countenance of mirth, somewhat she smiled, and thus spoke on: “When,” said she, “Dorus made me assuredly perceive that all cause of fear was passed, the truth is, I was ashamed to find myself alone with this shepherd, and therefore looking about me, if I could see anybody, at length we both perceived the gentle Dametas, lying with his head and breast as far as he could thrust himself into a bush, drawing up his legs as close unto him as he could: for, like a man of a very kind nature, soon to take pity on himself, he was fully resolved not to see his own death. And when this shepherd pushed him, bidding him to be of good cheer, it was a great while ere we could persuade him that Dorus was not the bear, so that he was fain to pull him out by the heels, and show him the beast as dead as he could wish it: which, you may believe me, was a very joyful sight unto him. But then he forgot all courtesy, for he fell upon the beast, giving it many a manful wound, swearing by much, it was not well such beasts should be suffered in a commonwealth. And then my governor, as full of joy, as before of fear, came dancing and singing before, as even now you saw him.” “Well, well,” said Basilius, “I have not chosen Dametas for his fighting, nor for his discoursing but for his plainness and honesty, and therein I know he will not deceive me.” But then he told Pamela (not so much because she should know it, as because he would tell it) the wonderful act Zelmane had performed, which Gynecia likewise spoke of, both in such extremity of praising, as was easy to be seen, the construction of their speech might best be made by the grammar rules of affection. Basilius told with what a gallant grace she ran with the lion’s head in her hand, like another Pallas with the spoils of Gorgon. Gynecia swore she saw the very face of the young Hercules killing the Nemean lion; and all with a grateful assent confirmed the same praises; only poor Dorus (though of equal desert, yet not proceeding of equal estate) should have been less forgotten, had not Zelmane again with great admiration begun to speak of him; asking whether it were the fashion or no in Arcadia that shepherds should perform such valorous enterprises.

This Basilius, having the quick sense of a lover, took, as though his mistress had given him a secret reprehension, that he had not showed more gratefulness to Dorus; and therefore as nimbly as he could, enquired of his estate, adding promise of great rewards, among the rest, offering to him, if he would exercise his courage in soldiery, he would commit some charge unto him under his lieutenant Philanax. But Dorus, whose ambition climbed by another stair, having first answered touching his estate that he was brother to the shepherd Menalcas, who among other was wont to resort to the prince’s presence, and excused his going to soldiery by the unaptness he found in himself that way, he told Basilius that his brother in his last testament had willed him to serve Dametas, and therefore, for due obedience thereunto, he would think his service greatly rewarded if he might obtain by that means to live in the sight of the prince and yet practice his own chosen vocation. Basilius, liking well his goodly shape and handsome manner, charged Dametas to receive him like a son into his house, saying, that his valour, and Dametas’s truth would be good bulwarks against such mischiefs, as, he sticked not to say, were threatened to his daughter Pamela.

Dametas, no whit out of countenance with all that had been said, because he had no worse to fall into than his own, accepted Dorus; and withal telling Basilius that some of the shepherds were come, demanded in what place he would see their sports, who first was curious to know whether it were not more requisite for Zelmane’s hurt to rest than sit up at those pastimes: and she, that felt no wound but one, earnestly desired to have the pastorals. Basilius commanded it should be at the gate of the lodge, where the throne of the prince being, according to the ancient manner, he made Zelmane sit between him and his wife therein, who thought herself between drowning and burning, and the two young ladies of either side the throne, and so prepared their eyes and ears to be delighted by the shepherds.

But, before all of them were assembled to begin their sports, there came a fellow who being out of breath, or seeming so to be for haste, with humble hastiness told Basilius, that his mistress, the lady Cecropia, had sent him to excuse the mischance of her beast ranging in that dangerous sort, being happened by the folly of the keeper, who thinking himself able to rule them, had carried them abroad, and so was deceived: whom yet, if Basilius would punish for it, she was ready to deliver. Basilius made no other answer, but that his mistress, if she had any more such beasts, should cause them to be killed: and then he told his wife and Zelmane of it, because they should not fear those woods, as though they harboured such beasts where the like had never been seen. But Gynecia took a further conceit of it, mistrusting greatly Cecropia, because she had heard much of the devilish wickedness of her heart, and that particularly she did her best to bring up her son Amphialus, being brother’s son to Basilius, to aspire to the crown as next heir male after Basilius, and therefore saw no reason but that she might conjecture, it proceeded rather of some mischievous practice, than of misfortune. Yet did she only utter her doubt to her daughters, thinking, since the worst was past, she would attend a further occasion, lest overmuch haste might seem to proceed of the ordinary mislike between sisters-in-law only they marvelled that Basilius looked no further into it, who, good man, thought so much of his late conceived commonwealth, that all other matters were but digressions unto him. But the shepherds were ready, and with well handling themselves, called their senses to attend their pastimes.

Basilius, because Zelmane so would have it, used the artificial day of torches, to lighten the sports their invention could minister: and because many of the shepherds were but newly come, he did in a gentle manner chastise their negligence, with making them, for that night the torch bearers; and the others he willed with all freedom of speech and behaviour to keep their accustomed method, which while they prepared to do, Dametas, who much disdained, since his late authority, all his old companions, brought his servant Dorus in good acquaintance and allowance of them, and himself stood like a director over them, with nodding, gaping, winking, or stamping, showing how he did like or mislike those things he did not understand. The first sports the shepherds showed were full of such leaps and gambols as being according to the pipe which they bore in their mouths, even as they danced, made a right picture of their chief god Pan, and his companions the Satyrs. Then would they cast away their pipes, and holding hand in hand dance as it were in a brawl, by the only cadence of their voices, which they would use in singing some short couplets, whereto the one half beginning, the other half should answer as the one half, saying:

We love, and have our loves rewarded.