and oft it fals out, that while one thinkes too much of his doing, hee leaves to doe the affect of his thinking. Then spared hee not to remember, how much Arcadia was changed since his youth; activitie and good fellowshippe being nothing in the price it was then held in, but according to the nature of the old-growing world, still worse and worse. Then would he tell them stories of such gallants as he had knowne and so with pleasant company, beguiled the time's haste, and shortned the waie's length, till they came to the side of the wood, where the hounds were in couples, staying their comming, but with a whining accent craving liberty; many of them in colour and markes so resembling, that it shewed they were of one kinde. The huntsmen handsomely attired in their greene liveries, as though they were children of summer, with staves in their hands to beate the guiltlesse earth, when the hounds were at a fault, and with hornes about their neckes, to sound an allarum upon a silly fugitive: the hounds were straight uncoupled, and ere long the stagge thought it better to trust to the nimblenesse of his feet, than to the slender fortification of his lodging: but even his feet betrayed him; for howsoever they went, they themselves uttered themselves to the scent of their enemies; who one taking it of another, and sometimes beleeving the winde's advertisements, sometimes the view of (their faithfull counsellors) the huntsmen, with open mouthes then denounced warre, when the warre was already begunne. Their cry being composed of so well-sorted mouthes, that any man would perceive therein some kind of proportion, but the skilfull woodmen did find a musicke. Then delight and variety of opinion drew the horsemen sundry wayes, yet cheering their hounds with voyce and horne, kept still (as it were) together. The wood seemed to conspire with them against their own citizens, dispersing their noise through all his quarters; and even the nymph, Eccho, left to bewaile the losse of Narcissus, and became a hunter. But the stagge was in the end so hotly pursued, that (leaving his flight) hee was driven to make courage of despaire; and so turning his head, made the hounds, with change of speech, to testifie that he was at a bay as if from hot pursuit of their enemy, they were suddenly come to a parley.”—p. 33, 34. Upon returning to the house of Kalander, Musidorus finds that Pyrocles has disappeared, and that he had left a letter, in which he ascribed his departure to violence of love, and enjoined his friend to leave him to his fate, and return to Thessaly, his native country. Grieved to the heart at the desertion he had experienced from his companion, Musidorus yet determines to follow his fugitive friend; whom, after many vain searches and fruitless enquiries, he finds near the mountain of Mœnalus, in Arcadia, disguised in the attire of an Amazon, and uttering forth to the hills and groves his plaintive and enamoured complaints. The scene which then ensues between the two princes, of accusation on the one side and defence on the other, is exquisitely tender and pathetic. Musidorus, as suming all the authority which his seniority in years and nearness of affinity and affection seemed to entitle him to, remonstrates with his friend on his abandonment of himself, and attempts to reason away the love-sick and effeminate languor which had taken place of his former high-mindedness and heroism. Pyrocles, though conscious of the justice of the charge, yet is angry at experiencing severity from a quarter he so little expected. At length, Musidorus threatens to dissolve the friendship which had subsisted between them. "And herewith the deepe wound of his love, being rubbed a-fresh with this new unkindnesse, began as it were to bleed again, in such sort, that he was unable to beare it any longer, but gushing out abundance of teares, and crossing his armes over his wofull heart, he sunke downe to the ground: which sudden trance went so to the heart of Musidorus, that falling downe by him, and kissing the weeping eyes of his friend, he besought him not to make account of his speech; which, if it had bin over-vehement, yet was it to be borne withall, because it came out of a love much more vehement, that he had not thought fancy could have received so deepe a wound : but now finding in him the force of it, hee would no further contrary it, but employ all his service to medicine it, in such sort as the nature of it. required. But even this kindnesse made Pyrocles the more to melt in the former unkindnesse, which his manlike teares well shewed, with a silent looke upon Musidorus, as who should say, and is it possible that Musidorus should threaten to leave me? And this strooke Musidorus' mind and senses so dumbe too, that for griefe being not able to say any thing, they rested with their eyes placed one upon another, in such sort, as might well point out the true passion of unkindnesse to be never aright, but betwixt them that most dearly love."-p. 47. Musidorus, now finding that harshness only served to embitter the mind of his friend, without recovering it, submits to the disorder which he cannot overcome, and offers to assist Pyrocles in obtaining his desires, who relates the story of his captivation; in order to understand which, we must inform our readers of some circumstances, of which we. perhaps ought previously to have made them acquainted. The country of Arcadia, at the time of the arrival of Pyrocles and Musidorus, was governed by a prince of the name of Basilius, whose gentleness and goodness had universally endeared him to his people. His consort, Gynecia, whom he had married in his old age, was yet a woman of great beauty, and adorning, by her noble and majestical demeanour, the station to which he had advanced her.-Ŏf this marriage, two daughters, Pamela and Philoclea, were the fruit, both endowed with excellencies different in kind, yet equal in degree. "The elder is named Pamela, by many men not deemed inferior to her sister for my part, when I marked them both, mee thought there was (if at least such perfections may receive the word of more) more sweetnesse in Philoclea, but more majesty in Pamela: mee thought love plaid in Philoclea's eies and threatened in Pamela's; mee thought Philoclea's beauty onely perswaded, but so perswaded as all hearts must yeeld: Pamela's beauty used violence, and such violence as no heart could resist. And it seems that such proportion is betweene their mindes: Philoclea so bashfull, as though her excellencies had stolne into her before she was aware; so humble, that she will put all pride out of countenance; in summe, such proceedings as will stirre hope, but teach hope good manners. Pamela of high thoughts, who avoids not pride with not knowing her excellencies, but by making that one of her excellencies to be void of pride; her mother's wisedome, greatnesse, nobility, but (if I can guesse aright) knit with a more constant temper."-p. 10. Enriched with such domestic blessings, and happy in the possession of the love of his people and in the tranquillity of his reign, Basilius still feels a desire to pry into futurity; and, led by curiosity to ascertain the future fortunes of himself and family, he makes a journey to Delphos to consult the oracle, and the answer he receives is this: "Thy elder care shall from thy carefull face Thou with thy wife adultery shalt commit.”—p. 204. Dismayed by this prediction, and in order to prevent its accomplishment, he retires from his court with Gynecia and the two princesses to a habitation which he had built for the purpose, in the midst of a large forest in Arcadia, relinquishing the active government of his affairs to Philanax, a faithful and well-tried servant, who had in vain attempted to persuade his master from a step so useless and absurd. In this seclusion the king buries himself and family, "retaining only, as the companions of his solitude, Dametas, a country clown, and his uncouth and deformed wife and daughter. We will now return to Pyrocles, who, having heard, whilst remaining with Kalander, of the strange retirement of Basilius and of the beauty of his daughter, and in particular of the loveliness of Philoclea, con tracts an insensible passion for an object he had not yet seen, and employs his hours in picturing the charms which were the general theme of admiration. Hence, his musing and love of solitude while he continued at the hospitable abode of Kalander. His desire to behold the perfections of Philoclea becomes soon too violent to be repressed: he therefore determines to leave the habitation of Kalander, and, though with much reluctance, his friend Musidorus, in the furtherance and prosecution of his desire. Attiring himself in the dress of an Amazon, he procures admission, under the disguise and the name of Zelmane, into the country retreat of Basilius. The first glance he obtains of Philoclea confirms the empire she already had gained of his heart; while Philoclea, ignorant of his being other than he appeared to be, conceives for him a tender and innocent affection. The effect which his appearance has upon the king and queen is equally powerful: Basilius, ignorant of his sex, becomes deeply enamoured of Pyrocles, under his character of Zelmane. The penetration of Gynecia, however, sees immediately through his disguise, but she, not less smitten with his beauty and perceiving his love for Philoclea, watches him with unremitting jealousy. Such is the state of things when the meeting between the two young princes takes place, and such is the account which Musidorus receives from Pyrocles of the story of his passion. About this time, Phalantus of Corinth, a valiant and well-proved knight, passing through Arcadia, offers to maintain the supreme beauty of his lady Arteria against all comers, after having been successful in several other courts, and brought with him in triumph the miniatures of the different ladies whose knights he had conquered, and whose various beauties are painted in Sir Philip Sidney's usual felicitous manner. This challenge, of course, appears little less than high treason to the passionate love of Pyrocles, and as an insult to the supremacy of those charms whose force had captivated his heart: indignant in her cause, he immediately puts on armour, and Phalantus quickly falls before the conquering lance of his opponent, not however without the right of priority of combat being first contested by Musidorus, who had in like manner armed himself for the encounter, to defend the rights of Pamela to the palm of beauty and loveliness; and who, not less wounded than his friend Pyrocles by the irresistible shafts of Cupid, now disguises himself in the dress of a shepherd, and procures himself to be taken into the service of Dametas. A fresh occasion soon offers itself to the young princes, of signalizing their valour in the defence of their mistresses. Two wild beasts, suspected to have been let loose by Cecropia, the implacable enemy of the family of Basilius, fall upon the princesses as they are walking in the wood, and they are only preserved from inevitable death by the intervention and courage of their lovers, who each kill one of the beasts, and cutting off their heads present them to their mistresses as trophies of their prowess. The valour of Pyrocles being performed under the character of the Amazon Zelmane, is considered almost supernatural, and he becomes more and more an object of love to Basilius and Gynecia, by both of whom he is tormented by an avowal of their passion. Not less is the heart of Philoclea enamoured; and the following passage, in which the progress of her love is described, will perhaps more completely elucidate the peculiar style of Sidney, than whole pages of laboured analysis. "The sweet-minded Philoclea was in their degree of well-doing, to whom the not knowing of evil serveth for a ground of virtue, and hold their inward powers in better forme, with an unspotted simplicity, than many who rather cunningly seek to know what goodness is, than willingly take into themselves the following of it. But as that sweet and simple breath of heavenly goodness is the easier to be altered, because it hath not passed through the worldly wickedness nor feelingly found the evil that evil carries with it, so now the lady Philoclea whose eies and senses had received nothing but according to the natural course of each thing required, whose tender youth had obediently lived under her parents' behests without framing out of her own will the forechoosing of any thing; when now she came to a point wherein her judgment was to be practised in knowing faultiness by his first tokens; she was like a young fawn, who coming in the wind of the hunters doth not know whether or no it be a thing or no to be eschewed, whereof at the time she began to get a costly experience. For, after that Zelmane had a while lived in the lodge with her, and that her only being a noble stranger had bred a kinde of heedfull attention; her comming to that lonely place, (where she had no body but her parents) a willingnesse of conversation; her wit and behaviour, a liking and silent admiration; at length the excellency of her naturall gifts, joyned with the extream shewes she made of most devout honouring Philoclea, (carrying thus, in one person, the only two bands of good will, lovelinesse and lovingnesse,) brought forth in her heart a yeelding to a most friendly affection; which when it had gotten so full possession of the keyes of her minde, that it would receive no message from her senses, without that affection were the interpreter; then straight grew an exceeding delight stil to be with her, with an unmeasureable liking of all that Zelmane did; matters being so turned in her, that where at first liking her manners did breed good will, now good-will became the chiefe cause of liking her manners: so that within a while Zelmane was not prized for her demeanure, but the demeanure was prized because it was Zelmane's. Then followed that most naturall effect of conforming her selfe to that which she did like, and not onely wishing to be her selfe such another in all things, but to ground an imitation upon so much an esteemed authority: so that the next degree was to marke all Zelmane's doings, speeches, and fashions, and to take |
