Arcadia. Sir Philip Sidney
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As the valiant beast turned upon her with open jaws, she gave him such a thrust through his breast that all the lion could do was to tear off with his paw the mantle and sleeve of Zelmane and make a little scratch rather than a wound, the death-blow having taken away the effect of his force. Therewithal he fell down and gave Zelmane leisure to take off his head to carry it for a present to her lady Philoclea.
She all this while (not knowing what was done behind her) kept on her course like Arethusa when she ran from Alpheus. Her light apparel was carried up with the wind, so that much of those beauties that she would at another time have willingly hidden were presented to the sight of the twice-wounded Zelmane. This made Zelmane not follow her over hastily, lest she should too soon deprive herself of that pleasure. Carrying the lion’s head in her hand, Zelmane did not fully overtake her until they came to the presence of Basilius.
Neither were they long there before Gynecia came thither also. She 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 swift end of the fight preventing all extremity of fear, Gynecia marked Zelmane’s fighting. And when the lion’s head was off, as Zelmane ran after Philoclea, she could find nothing in her heart but to run after Zelmane. It was a new sight that fortune had prepared in those woods, to see these 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; and Gynecia with wings of love, flying she neither knew, nor cared to know, whither.
They all came before Basilius, who was amazed at this sight. Fear had such possession in the fair Philoclea that her blood dared 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 to her:
“My only lady,” said she, “here see you the punishment of that unnatural beast, which contrary to his own kind would have wronged princely blood, guided with such traitorous eyes as dared rebel against your beauty.”
“Happy am I, and my beauty both,” answered the sweet Philoclea, then blushing (for fear had bequeathed his place 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 of pity, she showed it to her father and mother. 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, forgotten to mark whether she needed succor.
Then they both ran to her, like a father and mother to an only child, and would see to it, though Zelmane assured them it was nothing. Gynecia had skill in surgery, an art in those days much esteemed because it served virtuous courage, which even ladies would (ever with contempt for 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 she applied unto it a precious balm, 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 all saw Pamela coming between Dorus and Dametas, having in her hand the paw of a bear that the shepherd Dorus had newly presented to her, desiring her to accept it because the beast, though she deserved death for her presumption, yet should have her wit esteemed, since she made so sweet a choice of her intended victim.
Dametas for his part came piping and dancing, the merriest man in a parish, and when he came so near as he might be heard by Basilius, he broke through his ears with this joyful song of their good success:
Now thankèd be the great god Pan,
which thus preserves my lovèd life;
thankèd 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 has 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?31
When they all came together and wanted to know each other’s adventures, Pamela’s noble heart would gratefully make known the valiant means of her safety, which she did in this manner, directing her speech to her mother: “As soon,” said she, “as ye all ran away and I hoped I was safe, there came out of the same woods a foul, horrible bear, which, fearing 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 alone by me. I fell down flat on my face—truly not guilty of the wisdom they have since laid to my charge (because they say it is the best refuge against that beast) but even pure fear bringing forth that effect of wisdom—needing not to counterfeit being dead, for indeed I was a 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 valor she was careful to have displayed, “how, so ill prepared, did you achieve this enterprise?”
“Noble lady,” said Dorus, “the manner of these beasts fighting with any man is to stand up on their hind feet, and so this one did, and was ready to give me a shrewd embracement. I think the god Pan—ever watchful over the chief blessing of Arcadia—guided my hand just to the heart of the beast, so that neither she could once touch me, nor breed any danger to the princess—the only thing that matters in this worthy remembrance. For my part, I ought rather to thank her excellency—with all subjected humbleness, since my duty to her gave me heart to save myself—than receive thanks for a deed that she alone inspired.”
And thus Dorus spoke, keeping affection as much as he could from coming into his eyes and gestures. But Zelmane, who had the same character in her heart, could easily decipher it, and therefore to keep him longer in speech, desired to understand the conclusion of the matter and how honest Dametas had escaped.
“Nay,” said Pamela, “none shall take that office from me, being so much bound to him as I am for my education.” And with that word, scorn borrowed the countenance of mirth, and she somewhat smiled, and thus spoke on:
“When,” said she, “Dorus made me assuredly perceive that all cause of fear had passed, the truth is I was ashamed to find myself alone with this shepherd, and therefore looking about me to see 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 to him as he could. Like a man whose kind nature is soon to take pity of himself, he was fully resolved not to see his own death.
“When this shepherd pushed him, bidding him to be of good cheer, it was a great while before we could persuade him that Dorus was not the bear, so that Dorus 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 that 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 us, as even now you see 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.”