UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA SAN DIEQO s - CAMBRIDGE ENGLISH CLASSICS The Complete Works of Sir Philip Sidney In Three Volumes Volume II SIR PHILIP SIDNEY Born 1554 Died 1586 C O VNTESSE OF PEMBROKES ARCADIA WRITTEN BY SIR Philip Sidney Knight. NOW SINCE THE. FIRST EDI tion augmented and ended. LONDON. Printed for William Ponfonbie. 593. Title-page of the first Jolio SIR PHILIP SIDNEY THE LAST PART OF THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES ARCADIA ASTROPHEL & STELLA AND OTHER POEMS THE LADY OF MAY EDITED BY ALBERT FEUILLERAT Professor of English Literature in the University of Rennes Cambridge : at the University Press 1922 CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS C. F. CLAY, MANAGER LONDON : FETTER LANE, E.C. 4 NEW YORK : THE MACMILLAN CO. BOMBAY \ CALCUTTA L MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. MADRAS j TORONTO : THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. TOKYO : MARUZEN-KABUSHIK.I-KAISHA ALL RIGHTS RESERVED PREFATORY NOTE THE present volume the second of Sir Philip Sidney T s Complete Works contains the last part of Arcadia , a collection of all the poems that are known to exist, either printed or in manuscript, and the Masque of the Lady of May. In accordance with the method adopted in the first volume, the text given is that of the earliest edition. Thus, the last part of Arcadia and the Poems (from page 208 to page 238) are printed from the folio of 1593 ; the Sonets (from page 301 to page 322) and the Lady of 'May -, from the folio of 1598 ; the Dialogue betweene two Shep- herds, from the folio of 1613; Astrophel and Stella, from the first Newman quarto of 1591. The only exception is that of the 'Two Pastorels (page 325), which are printed from the 1 6 1 1 edition of Davison's Poetical Rhapsody. The text is reproduced without any deviations from the originals in the matter of spelling or punctuation. I have, however, corrected a few evident misprints, a list of which will be found on page 389. As regards Astrophel and Stella, I have also thought it expedient to number the sonnets, and in this I have followed the edition of 1598, even though the omission of the "Rich Sonnet" in Qi involved a little anomaly on page 257, where readers will notice the absence of number xxxvii. But I thought that this irregularity was amply compensated by the advantage of leaving their customary numbering to the following sonnets. I have reserved for the Appendix a certain number of poems, most of them circulated or published after the death of the Countess of Pembroke, whose intrinsic value vii PREFATORY NOTE did not seem sufficient to warrant their attribution to Sidney. These doubtful poems are printed from the originals, with the exception of 'To Queen Elizabeth (page 340), the Answer to the Earl of Oxford (page 341), Sir Philip Sydneis Song (page 342), the manuscripts of which were not accessible to me at the time when I was collecting the material of this volume. My thanks are due to the authorities of Emmanuel College (Cambridge), of the Bodleian Library, of Queen's College (Oxford), for permission to examine some of their treasures ; to Mr A. W. Pollard and to Mr R. F. Sharp, of the British Museum, for valuable help ; lastly to Mr A. R. Waller who, as the volume was passing through the press, assisted me in many ways. A. FEUILLERAT October, 1921 vin CONTENTS PAGE The last part of Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia . . I Poems first printed in the folio of 1593 . . . 208 Poems from the old Arcadia ..... 238 Astrophel and Stella . ,,,,,.. . . . 241 Certaine Sonets . . . . . . . 301 A Dialogue betweene Two Shepherds .... 323 Two Pastorels . . . . . ... 325 The Lady of May 329 Appendix: Poems attributed to Sidney . . . 339 Notes . . . . . . . . . 350 List of Misprints, etc., which have been corrected . 389 List of Misprints, etc., which should have been corrected 390 Index of First Lines of Poems . . . . . 39 1 Corrigenda ........ x CORRIGENDA 196. 24. For " Diaphantus " read " Daiphantus " 209. 5. Add full stop after Zelmane 239. 20. /'br fynde read fyinde. THE LAST PART OF SIR PHILIP SIDNEY'S ARCADIA FROM THE FOLIO OF 1593 A Fter that BasUius (according to the oracles promise) had re- /\. ceived home his daughters, and settled himselfe againe in his solitary course and accustomed company, there passed not many dayes ere the now fully recomforted Dorus having waited a time of Zelmanes walking alone towards her little Arbor, tooke leave of his master Damtetas husbandry to follow her. Neere wher- unto overtaking her, and sitting downe together among the sweet flowers whereof that place was very plentifull, under the pleasant shade of a broad leaved Sycamor, they recounted one to another their strange pilgrimage of passions, omitting nothing which the open harted frendship is wont to lay forth, where there is cause to comunicate both joyes & sorows, for indeed ther is no sweeter tast of frendship, then the coupling of soules in this mutualitie either of condoling or comforting: where the oppressed minde findes itself not altogether miserable, since it is sure of one which is feelingly sory for his misery : and the joy- full spends not his joy, either alone, or there where it may be envyed: but may freely send it to such a well grounded object, from whence he shall be sure to receive a sweete reflection of the same joye, and, as in a cleere mirror of sincere good will, see a lively picture of his owne gladnes. But after much dis- course on eyther parte, Dorm (his hearte scarce serving him to come to the pointe, whereunto his then comming had bene wholie directed, as loth in the kindest sorte to discover to his friend his owne unkindnes) at length, one word emboldening s. A. ii. A I THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES another made knowne to Zelrnane^how Pamela upon his vehement othe to offer no force unto her, till hee had invested her in the Duchie of Thessalia^ had condiscended to his stealing her awaie to the next sea porte. That besides the straunge humors she sawe her father more and more falling into, and unreasonable restraint of her libertie, whereof she knewe no cause but light grounded jealosies, added to the hate of that manner of life, and confidence she had in his vertue, the chiefest reason had wonne her to this, was the late daunger she stoode in of loosing him, the like whereof (not unlike to fall if this course were continued) she chose rather to dye then againe to undergoe. That now they wayted for nothing else, but some fit time for their escape, by the absence of their three lothsome companions, in whome follie ingendred suspicion. And therefore now, sayd Dorus, my deere Cozen, to whome nature began my friendship, education confirmed it, and vertue hath made it eternall, heere have I dis- covered the very foundacion whereupon my life is built : bee you the Judge betwixt mee and my fortune. The violence of love is not unknowne to you : And I knowe my case shall never want pittie in your consideration. How all the joyes of my hearte doo leave mee, in thinking I must for a time be absent from you, the eternall truth is witnesse unto mee, I knowe I should not so sensiblie feele the pangs of my last departure. But this enchantment of my restlesse desire hath such authoritye in my selfe above my selfe, that I am become a slave unto it, I have no more freedome in mine owne determinacions. My thoughtes are now all bent how to carrie awaie my burdenous blisse. Yet, most beloved Cozen, rather then I should thinke I doo heerein violate that holie bande of true friendship, wherein I unworthie am knit unto you, commaund mee stay. Perchaunce the force of your commaundement may worke such impression into my hearte, that no reason of mine owne can imprint into it. For the Gods forbid, the foule word of abandoning Pyrocles, might ever be objected to the faithfull Musidorus. But if you can spare my presence, whose presence no way serves you, and by the division of these two Lodges is not oft with you : nay if you can thinke my absence may, as it shall, stand you in stead, by bringing such an armye hither, as shall make Basilius^ willing or unwilling, to knowe his owne happe in graunting you Philoclea : then I will cheerefullie goe about this my most desired enterprise, ARCADIA. LIB. 3. and shall thinke the better halfe of it alreadie atchieved, beeing begunne in the fortunate houre of my friendes contentment. These wordes, as they were not knitte together with such a constant course of flowing eloquence, as Dorus was woont to use : so was his voice interrupted with sighes,and his countenaunce with enterchanging coulour dismayed. So much his owne hearte did finde him faultie to unbende any way the continuall use of theyr deare friendshippe. But Zelmane, who had all this while gladlie hearkened to the other tydings of her friends happye successe, when this last determination of Dorus strake her attentive eares, she stayed a great while oppressed with a dead amazement. Ther came streight before her mind, made tender with woes, the images of her own fortune. Her tedious longings, her causes to despaire, the combersome follie of Basilius^ the enraged Jealousie of Gynecia^ her selfe a Prince without retinewe ; a man annoyed with the troubles of woman-kinde ; lothsomely loved, and daungerouslie loving; And now for the perfecting of all, her friend to be taken away by himself, to make the losse the greater by the unkindnes. But within a while she resolutely passed over all inwarde objections, and preferring her friends proffitt to her owne desire, with a quiet but hartie looke, she thus aunsweared him. If I bare thee this Love vertuous Musidorus, for mine owne sake, and that our friendshipp grew because I for my parte, might rejoyce to enjoye such a friend : I shoulde nowe so thorowly feele mine owne losse, that I should call the heavens and earth to witnesse, howe cruelly yee robbe mee, of my greatest comforte, measuring the breach of friendshippe by myne owne passion. But because indeede I love thee for thy selfe, and in my judgement judge of thy worthines to be loved, I am content to builde my pleasure uppon thy comforte : And then will I deeme my happe in friendshippe great, when I shall see thee, whome I love happie. Let me be onely sure, thou lovest me still, the onely price of trew afieclion goe therefore on, worthye Musidorus, with the guide of vertue, and service of fortune. Let thy love be loved, thy desires prosperous, thy escape safe, and thy jornye easie. Let every thing yeeld his helpe to thy deserte, for my part absence shall not take thee from mine eyes, nor afflictions shall barre mee from gladding in thy good, nor a possessed harte shall keepe thee from the place it hath for ever allotted unto thee. Dorus would faine have replied againe, to A2 ? THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES have made a liberall confession that Zelmane had of her side the advantage of well performing friendshippe: but partelie his owne griefe of parting from one he loved so dearely, partly the kinde care in what state hee should leave Ze/mane^ bredd such a con- flidle in his minde, that many times he wished, he had either never attempted, or never revealed this secreat enterprise. But Zelmane y who had now looked to the uttermoste of it, and established her minde upon an assured determination, my onely friend said shee since to so good towardnes, your courteous destinies have conducted you, let not a ceremoniall consideration of our mutuall love, be a barre unto it. I joye in your presence, but I joye more in your good, that friendshipp brings foorth the fruites of enmitie, which preferres his owne tendernes, be- fore his friendes domage. For my parte my greatest griefe herein shalbe, I can bee no further serviceable unto you O Zelmane saide Dorus with his eyes even covered with water, I did not think so soone to have displayed my determination unto you, but to have made my way first in your loving judgement. But alas as your sweet disposition drew me so farre : so doth it now strengthen me in it. To you therefore be the due com- mendation given, who can conquere me in Love, and Love in wisedome. As for mee, then shall goodnes turne to evill, and ungratefulnes bee the token of a true harte when Pyrocles shall not possesse a principall seate in my soule, when the name of Pyrocles shall not be helde of me in devout reverence. They would never have come to the cruell instant of parting, nor to the il-faring word of farewell, had not Zelmane sene a farre off the olde Basi/ius, who having perfourmed a sacrifice to Apollo, for his daughters, but principally for his mistresse happy returne, had since bene every where to seeke her. And nowe being come within compasse of discerning her, he beganne to frame the loveliest coutenance he could, stroking up his legges, setting his bearde in due order, and standing bolte upright. Alas said Zelmane, behold an evill fore-token of your sorrowfull departure. Yonder see I one of my furies, which doth daylie vexe me, farewell fare wel my Musidorus^ the Gods make fortune to waite on thy vertues, and make mee wade through this lake of wretchednes. Dorus burst out into a floud of teares wringing her fast by the hande. No, no, said he, I go blindfold, whither the course of my ill happe caries me : for now too late my harte ARCADIA. LIB. 3. gives me this our separating can never be prosperous. But if I live, attend me here shortly with an army. Thus both appalled with the grievous renting of their long Combination, (having first resolved with theselves that, whatsoever fell unto them, they should never upon no occasion utter their names for the coserving the honour of their Royal parentage, but keep the names of Daiphantus & Palladium, as before had ben agreed between the) they tooke diverse waies : Dorm to the lodg-ward, wher his heavy eyes might besomthing refreshed ; Ze/manetowa.rdsBasi/ius : saying to her selfe with a skornefull smiling : yet hath not my friendly fortune deprived me of a pleasant companion. But he having with much searche come to her presence, Doubt & Desire bred a great quarrel in his mind. For his former experience had taught him to doubt : & true feeling of Love made doubts daungerous, but the working of his desire had ere long wonne the fielde. And therefore with the most submissive maner his behaviour could yeeld : O Goddesse, said hee towardes whom I have the greatest feeling of Religion, be not displeased at some shew of devotion I have made to Apollo : since he (if he know any thing) knowes that my harte beares farre more awful reverece to your self then to his, or any other the like Deity. You wil ever be deceaved in me, answered Zelmane: I wil make my selfe no competitor with Apollo, neither can blasphemies to him be duties to me. With that Basilius tooke out of his bosome certaine verses he had written, and kneling downe, pre- sented them to her. They contained this: PHaebus farewell, a sweeter Saint I serve, The high conceits thy heavnly wisedomes breed My thoughts forget : my thoughts, which never swerve From her, in whome is sowne their freedomes seede, And in whose eyes my dayly doome I reede. Phxbus farewe/f, a sweeter Saint I serve. Thou art farre off, thy kingdome is above: She heaven on earth with beauties doth preserve. Thy beames I like, but her cleare rayes I love : Thy force I fear e, her force I still do prove. Phaebus yeelde up thy title in my minde. She doth possesse, thy Image is defaste, But if thy rage some brave revenge will finde, THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES On her^ who hath in me thy temple raste, Employ thy might, that she my fires may taste. And how much more her worth surmounteth tbee, Make her as much more base by loving me. This is my Hymne to you, said he, not left me by my auncestors, but begone in my selfe. The temple wherin it is daylie songe, is my soule : and the sacrifice I offer to you withall is all whatsoever I am. Ze/mane, who ever thought shee founde in his speeches the ill taste of a medecine, and the opera- tion of a poyson, would have suffred a disdainful looke to have bene the onely witnesse of her good acceptation ; but that Basilius began a fresh to lay before her many pittifull prayers, and in the ende to conclude that he was fully of opinion it was onely the unfortunatenes of that place that hindered the pros- perous course of his desires. And therefore since the hatefull influence ; which made him embrace this solitary life, was now past over him (as he doubted not the judgment of Philanax would agree with his) and his late mishapes had taught him how perillous it was to commit a Princes state to a place so weakely guarded : He was now enclined to returne to his pallace in Mantinea, and there he hoped he should be beter able to shew how much he desired to make al he had hers : with many other such honnie wordes which my penne growes almost weary to set downe : This indeede neerely pierced Ze/mane. For the good beginning shee had there obtained of Philoclea made her desire to continue the same trade, till unto the more perfecting of her desires : and to come to any publike place shee did deadly feare, lest her maske by many eyes might the sooner be dis- covered, and so her hopes stopped, and the state of her joyes endaungered. Therefore while shee rested, musing at the dayly chaunging labyrinth of her owne fortune, but in her selfe de- termined it was her onely best to keepe him there : and with favors to make him love the place, where the favors were received, as disgraces had made him apte to chaunge the Soyle. Therefore casting a kinde of corner looke upon him, it is truely saide, (saide she) that age cooleth the bloud. Howe soone goodman you are terrified before you receave any hurte ? Doe you not knowe that daintines is kindly unto us ? And that hard obtayning, is the excuse of womans graunting ? Yet speake I 6 ARCADIA. LIB. 3. not as though you were like to obtaine, or I to graut. But be- cause I would not have you imagin, I am to be wonne by courtely vanities, or esteeme a man the more, because he hath handsome men to waite of him, when he is affraid to live with- out them. You might have scene Basilius humbly swell, and with a lowly looke stand upon his tiptoes ; such diversitie her words delivered unto him. O Hercules aunswered he ; Basilius afraide? Or his bloud cold, that boyles in such a fournace? Care I who is with mee, while I enjoy your presence? Or is any place good or bad to me, but as it pleaseth you to blesse or curse it? O let me be but armed in your good grace, and I defie whatsoever there is or can be against mee. No, no, your love is forcible, and my age is not without vigoure. Zelmane thought it not good for his stomacke, to receave a surfet of too much favoure, and therefore thinking he had enough for the time, to keepe him from any sodaine removing, with a certaine gracious bowing downe of her heade towarde him, she turned away, say- ing, she would leave him at this time to see how temperately hee could use so bountifull a measure, of her kindenes. Basilius that thought every dropp a flood that bred any refreshment, durst not further presse her, but with an ancient modestie left her to the sweete repast of her owne fancies. Zelmane assoone as he was departed went towarde Pamelas lodge in hope to have scene her friende Dorus y to have pleased her selfe with another paynefull farrewell, and further to have taken some advise with him touching her owne estate, whereof before sorowe had not suffered her to thinke. But being come even neere the lodge, she saw the mouth of a cave, made as it should seeme by nature in despite of Arte : so fitly did the riche growing marble serve to beautifie the vawt of the first entrie. underfoot, the ground semed mynerall, yeelding such a glistering shewe of golde in it, as they say the ryver Tagus caries in his sandie bed. The cave framed out into many goodly spatious Roomes such as the selfe- liking men, have with long and learned delicacie founde out the most easefull. There rann through it a little sweete River, which had lefte the face of the earth to drowne her selfe for a smale waye in this darke but pleasant mansion. The very first shewe of the place entised the melancholy minde of Zelmane to yeelde her selfe over there to the flood of her owne thoughtes. And therefore sitting downe in the first entrie, of the Caves mouth, THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES S with a song shee had lately made, shee gave a dolefull waye to her bitter Affedles, shee sunge to this effefte: Ince that the stormy rage of passions darcke passions darke, made darke of beauties light] W^hith rebell force, hath closde in dungeon darke My minde ere now led foorth by reasons light : Since all the thinges which give mine eyes their light Do foster still, the fruites of fancies darke: So that the windowes of my inward light Do serve, to make my inward powers darke : Since, as I say, both minde and sences darke Are hurt, not helpt, with piercing of the light: While that the light may shewe the horrors darke But cannot make resolved darkenes lighte : I like this place, whereat the least the darke May keepe my thoughtes, from thought of wonted light. In steede of an instrument, her song was accompanied with the wringing of her hands, the closing of her weary eyes, and even sometime cut off with the swellinge of hir sighes, which did not suffer the voice to have his free and native passage. But as she was a while musing upon her songe, raising up her spirites, which were something falne into the weakenes of lamentation, considering solitary complaints do no good to him whose helpe stands with out himselfe, shee might a far off, first heare a whis- pering sounde which seemed to come from the inmost parte of the Cave, and being kept together with the close hollownes of the place, had as in a Truncke the more liberall accesse to her eares, and by and by she might perceave the same voice, deliver it selfe into musicall tunes, and with a base Lyra give foorth this songe : \A rke plaintfull ghostes, infernal! furies harke Unto my woes the hatefull heavens do sende, The heavens conspired, to make my vita// sparse A wrecked wracke, a glasse of Ruines ende. Seeing, Alas ; so mightie powers bende Their ireful shotte against so weake a marke, Come cave, become my grave, come death, and lende Receipts to me, within thy bosome darke. 8 H n ARCADIA. LIB. 3. For what is life to dayly dieng minde, Where drawing breath, I sucke the aire of woe: Where too much sight, makes all the bodie blinde, And highest thoughts, downeward most headlong throw ? Thus then my forme, and thus my state I finde, Death wrapt in flesh, to living grave assigned. And pawsing but a little, with monefull melodic it continued this oftave : Like those sicke folkes, in whome strange humors flowe, Can taste no sweetes, the sower onely please : So to my minde, while passions daylie growe, Whose fyrie chaines, uppon his freedome seaze, Joies strangers seeme, I cannot bide their showe, Nor brooke oughte els but well acquainted woe. Bitter griefe tastes me best paine is my ease, Sicke to the death, still loving my disease. O Venus, saide Zelmane, who is this so well acquainted with mee, that can make so lively a portraclure of my miseries ? It is surely the spirit appointed to have care of me, which doth now in this darke place beare parte with the complaints of his unhappie charge. For if it be so, that the heavens have at all times a measure of their wrathefull harmes, surely so many have come to my blistlesse lot, that the rest of the world hath too small a portion, to make with cause so wailefull a lamentation. But saide she ; whatsoever thou be, I will seeke thee out, for thy musique well assures me wee are at least-hand fellowe prentises to one ungracious master. So raise shee and went guiding her selfe, by the still playning voice, till she sawe uppon a stone a little waxe light set, and under it a piece of paper with these verses verie lately (as it should seeme) written in it : 'Owe is my Sunn, whose beames are shining bright ^Become the cause of my darke ouglie night ? Or howe do I captivd in this darke plight, Bewaile the case, and in the cause delight ? My mangled mind huge horrors still doe fright, With sense possest, and claim' d by reasons right : Betwixt which two in me I have this fight, Wher who so wynns, I put my selfe to flight. THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES Come clowdie feares close up my daseled sight, Sorrowes suck up the marowe of my might, Due sighes blowe out all sparkes of joy full light, Tyre on despaier uppon my tyred sprite. An ende, an ende, my dulde penn cannot write, Nor mas'de head thinke, nor faltring tonge recite. And hard underneath the sonnet, were these wordes written : This cave is darke, but it had never light. This waxe doth waste it selfe, yet painelesse dyes. These wordes are full of woes, yet feele they none. I darkned am, who once had clearest sight. I waste my harte, which still newe torment tryes. I plaine with cause, my woes are all myne owne, No cave, no wasting waxe, no wordes of grief e, Can holde, shew, tell, my paines without reliefe. She did not long stay to reade the wordes, for not farre off from the stone shee might discerne in a darke corner, a Ladie lieng with her face so prostrate upon the ground, as she could neither know, nor be knowen. But (as the generall nature of man is desirous of knowledge, and sorrow especially glad to find fel- lowes,) she went as softely as she could convey her foot, neere unto her, where she heard these words come with vehement sobbings from her. O darken es(saide shee) which doest light somly (me thinks) make me see the picture of my inward darknes: since I have chosen thee, to be the secret witnesse of my sorows, let me receive a safe receipte in thee; and esteeme them not tedious, but if it be possible, let the uttering them be some dis- charge to my overloaden breast. Alas sorrowe, nowe thou hast the full sack of my conquered spirits, rest thy selfe a while, and set not stil new fire to thy owne spoiles: O accursed reason, how many eyes thou hast to see thy evills, and thou dimme, nay blinde thou arte in preventing them? Forlorne creature that I am ! I would I might be freely wicked, since wickednesse doth prevaile, but the foote steppes of my overtroden vertue, lie still as bitter accusations unto me : I am devided in my selfe, howe can I stande? I am overthrowne in my selfe, who shall raise mee? Vice is but a nurse of new agonies, and the vertue I am divorsed from, makes the hatefull comparison the more 10 ARCADIA. LIB. 3. manyfest. No, no vertue, either I never had but a shadow of thee, or thou thy selfe, art but a shadow. For how is my soule abandoned ? How are all my powers laide waste ? My desire is payned, because it cannot hope, and if hope came, his best shoulde bee but mischiefe. O strange mixture of humaine mindes ! onely so much good lefte, as to make us languish in our owne evills. Yee infernall furies, (for it is too late for mee, to awake my dead vertue, or to place my comforte in the angrie Gods) yee infernall furies I say, aide one that dedicates her selfe unto you, let my rage bee satisfied, since the effefte of it is fit for your service. Neither bee afraide to make me too happie, since nothing can come to appease the smart of my guiltie coscience. I desire but to asswage the sweltring of my hellish longing, dejected Gynecia. Ze/mane, no sooner heard the name of Gynecia^ but that with a colde sweate all over her, as if she had ben ready to treade upon a deadly stinging Adder, she would have withdrawne her selfe, but her owne passion made her yeelde more unquiet motions, then she had done in comming. So that she was perceaved, & Gynecia sodainely risne up, for in deed it was Ginecia, gotten into this Cave, (the same Cave, wherein Dametas had safelie kept Pamela in the late uprore) to passe her pangs, with change of places. And as her minde ranne still upon Ze/mane, her piercing lovers eye had soone found it was she. And seeing in her a countenance to flye away, she fell downe at her feete, and catching fast hold of her: Alas, sayd she, whether, or from whome doost thou flye awaye ? the savagest beastes are wonne with service, and there is no flint but may be mollifyed: How is Gynecia so unworthie in thine eyes ? or whome cannot aboun- dance of love, make worthie? O thinke not that crueltie, or ungratefulnes, can flowe from a good minde ! O weigh, Alas ! weigh with thy selfe, the newe effeclies of this mightie passion, that I unfit for my state, uncomely for my sexe, must become a suppliant at thy feete ! By the happie woman that bare thee, by all the joyes of thy hart, and successe of thy desire, I beseech thee turne thy selfe to some consideration of me ; and rather shew pittie in now helping me, then into late repenting my death which hourely threatens me. Zelmane imputing it, to one of her continuall mishaps, thus to have met with this Lady, with a full weary countenance; Without doubt Madame, said she, where the desire is such, as may be obtained, and the partie well ii THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES deserving as your selfe, it must be a great excuse that may well cullour a deniall ; but when the first motion carries with it a direct impossibilitie, then must the only answere be, comfort without helpe, and sorrow to both parties ; to you not obtaining to me not able to graunt. O sayd Gynecia y how good leisure you have to frame these scornefull answeres? Is Gtnecia thus to be despised? am I so vile a worme in your sight? no no, trust to it hard harted tigre, I will not be the only A6lor of this Tragedy: since I must fall, I will presse downe some others with my ruines: since I must burne, my spitefull neighbors shall feele of my fire. Doest thou not perceave that my diligent eyes have pierced through the clowdie maske of thy desguisemet? Have I not told thee, 6 foole, (if I were not much more foole) that I know thou wouldest abuse us with thy outward shew ? Wilt thou still attend the rage of love in a womans hart? the girle thy well chosen mistresse, perchaunce shall defend thee, when Basi/ius shal know how thou hast sotted his minde with falsehood, and falsely sought the dishonour of his house. Beleeve it, beleeve it unkind creature, I will end my miseries with a notable example of revenge, and that accursed cradle of mine shal feele the smart of my wound, thou of thy tiranny, and lastly (I confesse) my selfe of mine owne work. Zelmane that had long before doubted her selfe to be discovered by her, and now plainely finding it, was as the proverbe saith, like them that hold the wolfe by the eares, bitten while they hold, and slaine if they loose. If she held her off in these wonted termes, she sawe rage would make her love worke the effects of hate ; to graunt unto her, her hart was so bounde upon Philoclea^ it had ben worse then a thousand deaths. Yet found she it was necessarie for her, to come to a resolution, for Gynecias sore could bide no leasure, and once discovered, besides the dager of Philoclea, her desires should be for ever utterly stopped. She remebred withall the words of Basi/ius, how apt he was to leave this life, & returne to his court, a great barre to her hopes. Lastly she considered Dorus enterprise, might bring some strange alteration of this their well liked fellowship. So that encompassed with these instant difficulties, she bent her spirits to thinke of a remedie, which might at once both save her from them, and serve her to the accomplishment of her only pursuite. Lastly, she determined thus, that there was no way but to yeeld to the violence of their 12 ARCADIA. LIB. 3. desires, since striving did the more chafe them. And that fol- lowing their owne current, at length of it selfe it would bring her to the other side of her burning desires. Now in the meane while the divided Dorus, long divided betwene love and frendship, and now for his love divided fro his frend, though indeed without prejudice of frendships loyaltie, which doth never barre the minde from his free satisfaction : yet still a cruell judge over himselfe, thought he was somewayes faultie, and applied his minde how to amend it, with a speedie and behovefull returne. But then was his first studie, how to get away, whereto already he had Pamelas consent, confirmed and concluded under the name of Mopsa in her owne presence, Dorus taking this way, that whatsoever he would have of Pamela he would aske her, whether in such a case it were not best for Mopsa so to behave her selfe, in that sort making Mopsas envie, an in- strument of that she did envie. So having passed over, his first and most feared dimcultie, he busied his spirites how to come to the harvest of his desires, whereof he had so faire a shew. And thereunto (having gotten leave for some dayes of his maister Damtetas, who now accompted him as his sonne in lawe,) he romed round about the desart, to finde some unknowne way, that might bring him to the next Sea port, as much as might be out of all course of other passengers: which all very well succeeding him, and he havjng hired a Bark for his lives traffick, and pro- vided horsses to carrie her thither, returned homeward, now come to the last point of his care, how to goe beyond the loathsome watchfulnes of these three uncomely companions, and therin did wisely consider, how they were to be taken with whom he had to deale, remembring that in the particularities of every bodies mind & fortune, there are particuler advantages, by which they are to be held. The muddy mind of Damatas, he found most easily sturred with covetousnes. The curst mischevous hart of MisO) most apt to be tickled with jealousie, as whose rotten brain could think wel of no body. But yong mistres Mopsa, who could open her eys upon nothing, that did not all to bewonder her, he thought curiositie the fittest bait for her. And first for Damatas, Dorus having imploid a whole days work, about a tenne mile off from the lodge (quite contrary way to that he ment to take with Pamela] in digging & opening the ground, under an auncient oke that stood there, in such sort as might longest hold Damcetas '3 THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES greedy hopes, in some shewe of comfort, he came to his master, with a countenance mixt betwixt cherefulnes and haste, and taking him by the right hand, as if he had a great matter of secrecie to reveale unto him: Master said he, I did never thinke that the gods had appointed my mind freely brought up, to have so longing a desire to serve you, but that they minded therby to bring some extraordinary frute to one so beloved of them, as your honesty makes me think you are. This bindes me even in conscience, to disclose that which I perswade my self is alotted unto you, that your fortune may be of equal ballance with your deserts. He said no further, because he would let Dameetas play upon the bit a while, who not understanding what his words entended, yet well finding, they caried no evil news, was so much the more desirous to know the matter, as he had free scope to imagin what measure of good hap himselfe would. Therefore putting off his cap to him, which he had never done before, & assuring him he should have Mopsa^ though she had bene all made of cloath of gold, he be- sought Dorus not to hold him long in hope, for that he found it a thing his hart was not able to beare. Maister, answered Dorus^ you have so satisfied me, with promising me the uttermost of my desired blisse, that if my duty bound me not, I were in it suffi- ciently rewarded. To you therefore shall my good hap be con- verted, and the fruite of all my labor dedicated. Therewith he told him, how under an auncient oke, (the place he made him easily understand, by sufficient marks he gave unto him) he had found digging but a little depth, scatteringly lying a great num- ber of rich Medailles, and that percing further into the ground, he had met with a great stone, which by the hollow sound it yeelded, seemed to be the cover of some greater vaut, and upon it a boxe of Cypres, with the name of the valiant Aristomenes graven upon it : and that within the box, he found certaine verses, which signified that some depth againe under that all his treasures lay hidden, what time for the discord fell out in Arcadia he lived banished. Therwith he gave Dameetas certaine Medailles of gold he had long kept about him, and asked him because it was a thing much to be kept secret, and a matter one man in twenty houres might easily performe, whether he would have him go and seeke the bottome of it, which he had refrained to do till he knew his mind, promising he would faithfully bring him what he found, or else that he himselfe would do it, and be the first beholder ARCADIA. LIB. 3. of that comfortable spectacle. No man need doubt which part Damestas would choose, whose fancie had alredy devoured all this great riches, and even now began to grudge at a partenor, before he saw his owne share. Therefore taking a strong Jade, loaden with spades and mattocks, which he ment to bring back otherwise laden, he went in all speed thetherward, taking leave of no body, only desiring Dorus he would looke wel to the Princes Pamela. Promising him mountaines of his owne labor, which neverthelesse he little ment to performe, like a foole not consider- ing, that no man is to be moved with part, that neglects the whole. Thus away went Damestas, having alreadie made an image in his fancie, what Pallaces he would build, how sumptuously he would fare, and among all other things imagined what money to employ in making coffers to keepe his money, his tenne mile seemed twise so many leagues, and yet contrarie to the nature of it, though it seemed long, it was not wearysome. Many times he curssed his horses want of consideration, that in so important a matter would make no greater speede : many times he wished himself the back of an Asse, to help to carrie away the new sought riches, (an un- fortunate wisher, for if he had aswell wished the head, it had bene graunted him.) At length being come to the tree, which he hoped should beare so golden Akornes, downe went all his in- struments, and forthwith to the renting up of the hurtlesse earth, where by and by he was caught with the lime of a fewe promised Medailles, which was so perfeCt a pawne unto him of his further expectation, that he deemed a great number of howers well em- ployed in groping further into it, which with loggs and great stones was made as cumbersome as might be, till at length with sweatie browes he came to the great stone. A stone, God knowes, full unlike to the cover of a Monument, but yet there was the Cipres box with Aristomenes graven upon it, and these verses written in it. /] Banisht man, long bard from his desire ^fl By inward letts, of them his state possest, Hid heere his hopes, by which he might aspire To have his harmes with wisdomes helpe redrest. Seeke then and see, what man esteemeth best, All is but this, this is our labours hire, THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES Of this we live, in this wee finde our rest, Who hold this fast no greater wealth require. Looke further then, so shalt thou finde at least, A baite most fit, for hungrie minded guest. He opened the box, and to his great comfort read them, and with fresh courage went about to lift up that stone. But in the meane time, ere Damcetas was halfe a mile gone to the treasure warde, Dorus came to Miso, whom he found sitting in the chimneys ende, babling to her selfe, and shewing me all her gestures that she was loathsomly weary of the worlde, not for any hope of a better life, but rinding no one, good neyther in minde nor body, where-out she might nourish a quiet thought, having long since hated each thing else, began now to hate her selfe. Before this sweete humour'd Dame, Dorus set himselfe, and framed towardes her, such a smiling countenance, as might seeme to be mixt betwene a tickled mirth, and a forced pittie. Miso, to whome cheerefulnes in others, was ever a sauce of envie in her selfe, tooke quicklie marke of his behaviour, and with a looke full of foreworne spite : Now the Devill, sayd she, take these villaynes, that can never leave grenning, because I am not so fayre as mistresse Mopsa, to see how this skipjacke lookes at me. Dorus that had the occasion he desired, Truly mistresse aunswered he, my smiling is not at you, but at them that are from you, and in deede I must needes a little accord my coun- tenance with other sport. And therewithall tooke her in his armes, and rocking her too and fro, In faith mistresse, sayd he, it is high time for you, to bid us good night for ever, since others can possesse your place in your owne time. Miso that was never voide of mallice enough to suspeft the uttermost evill, to satisfye a further shrewdnes, tooke on a present mildnes, and gentlie de- sired him, to tell her what he meant, for, said she, I am like enough to be knavishly dealt with, by that churle my husband. Dorus fell off from the matter againe, as if he had meant no such thing, till by much refusing her intreatie, and vehemently stirring up her desire to knowe, he had strengthned a credit in her to that he should saye. And then with a formall countenance, as if the conscience of the case had touched himselfe : Mistresse, sayd he, I am much perplexed in my owne determination, for my thoughts do ever will me to do honestlie, but my judgement 16 ARCADIA. LIB. 3. fayles me what is honest: betwixt the generall rule, that en- trusted secreacies are holilie to be observed, and the particuler exception that the dishonest secreacies are to be revealed : es- pecially there, whereby revealing they may eyther be prevented, or at least amended. Yet in this ballance, your judgement wayes me downe, because I have confidence in it, that you will use what you know moderately, and rather take such faults as an advantage to your owne good desert, then by your bitter using it, be contented to be revenged on others with your own harmes. So it is mistresse said he, that yesterday driving my sheepe up to the stately hill, which lifts his head over the faire Citie of Mantinea, I hapned upon the side of it, in a little falling of the ground which was a rampier against the Sunnes rage, to perceave a yong maid, truly of the finest stamp of beawtie, & that which made her bewtie the more admirable, there was at all no arte added to the helping of it. For her apparell was but such as Shepheards daughters are wont to weare : and as for her haire, it hoong downe at the free libertie of his goodly length, but that sometimes falling before the cleare starres of her sight, she was forced to put it behinde her eares, and so open againe the treasure of her perfections, which that for a while had in part hidden. In her lap there lay a Shepheard, so wrapped up in that well liked place, that I could discerne no piece of his face, but as mine eyes were attent in that, her Angellike voice strake mine eares with this song: MY true love hath my hart, and I have his. By just exchange, one for the other giv'ne. I holde his deare, and myne he cannot misse : There never was a better bargaine driv'ne. His hart in me, keepes me and him in one, My hart in him, his thoughtes and senses guides : He loves my hart, for once it was his owne : I cherish his, because in me it bides. His hart his wound receaved from my sight : My hart was wounded, with his wounded hart, For as from me, on him his hurt did light, So still me thought in me his hurt did smart : Both equall hurt, in this change sought our blisse : My true love hath my hart and I have his. S. A. II. B 17 THE COUNTESSE OF PEMBROKES But as if the Shepheard that lay before her, had bene organes, which were only to be blowen by her breath, she had no sooner ended with the joyning her sweete lips together, but that he re- corded to her musick this rurall poesie : Words which fall like sommer deaw on me, breath more sweete, then is the growing beane', O toong in which, all honyed likoures bee, O voice that doth, the Thrush in shrilnes staine, Do you say still, this is her promise due, That she is myne, as I to her am true. Gay haire more gaie then straw when harvest lyes, Lips red and plum, as cherries ruddy side, Eyes fair e and great, like faire great axes eyes, O brest in which two white sheepe swell in pride : Joyne you with me, to seale this promise due, That she be myne, as I to her am true. But thou white skinne, as white as cruddes well prest, So smooth as sleekestone-like, it smoothes each parte, And thou de are flesh, as soft as wooll new drest, And yet as hard, as brawne made hard by arte : First fower but say, next fowr their saying seale, But you must pay, the gage of promist weale. And with the conclusion of his song, he embraced her about the knees, O sweet Charita said he, when shall I enjoy the rest of my toyling thoughts? And when shall your blisfull promise now due, be verified with just performance ? with that I drew neerer to them, and saw (for now he had lifted up his face to glasse himselfe in her faire eyes) that it was my master Dam&tas, but here Miso interrupted his tale, with rayling at Dam&tas, with all those exquisite termes, which I was never good skolde inough to imagine. But Dorus, as if he had ben much offended with her impaciece, would proceed no further till she had vowed more stillnes. For said he, if the first drumme thus chafe you, what will you be when it commes to the blowes ? Then he told her, how after many familiar entertainments betwixt them, Damtetas, laying before her, his great credit with the Duke, and withall giving her very faire presents, with promise of much more, had in the ende concluded together to meete as that night 18 ARCADIA. LIB. 3. at Mantinea, in the Oudemian streete, at Charitas uncles house, about tenne of the clocke. After which bargaine Dam