nature. Although his grief is such that to live is a grief to him and even his reason is darkened with sorrow, yet the laws of hospitality (long and holily observed by him) give still such a sway to his proceeding that he will no way suffer any stranger lodged under his roof to receive, as it were, any infection of his anguish—especially you, toward whom I know not whether his love or admiration be greater.”
Palladius could scarce hear out his tale with patience, so was his heart torn into pieces with compassion of the case. He admired Kalander’s noble behavior, the kindness of Kalander’s respect for him, and desired to find some remedy. He also thought of his dear friend Daiphantus, whom he judged suffered either a like or a worse fortune. Therefore, rising from the board, he desired the steward to tell him particularly the ground and event of this accident. By knowing the circumstances he might find a way to help. Whereunto the steward easily in this sort condescended:
“My lord,” said the steward, “when our good king Basilius with better success than expectation took to wife (even in his more than decaying years) the fair young princess Gynecia, there came with her a young lord, first cousin to herself, named Argalus, led here partly by the love and honor of his noble kinswoman, partly by the humor of youth, which ever thinks that good whose goodness he sees not. In this court he received such good increase of knowledge that after some years spent, he so manifested a most virtuous mind in all his actions that Arcadia gloried that such a plant was transported here. He was a most rarely accomplished gentleman, excellently learned, but without any vainglory; friendly without factiousness; and valiant, so as for my part, I think the earth has no man that has done more heroic acts than he.
“Lately the fame flies of the two princes of Thessalia and Macedon, as it has long done of our noble prince Amphialus, who in these parts is also considered his match. For my part, I think no man for valor of mind and ability of body to be preferred to Argalus, although he may be equaled. He is valiant in a way that restrains him from doing anybody injury. Some will say his behavior is always sad, surely sober, and somewhat given to musing, but never uncourteous. His word is ever led by his thought and followed by his deed. He is rather liberal than magnificent, though the one wants not and the other always makes a good choice of the receiver. In sum, for I perceive I shall easily take a great draught of his praises, whom both I and all this country love so well, such a man was (and I hope is) Argalus, as hardly the nicest eye can find a spot in—if the overvehement constancy of yet spotless affection may not, in hard-wrested constructions, be counted spot, which has made both him and his constant affection famous throughout this country.
“My master’s son Clitophon (whose loss gives the cause to this discourse and yet gives me cause to begin with Argalus, since his loss proceeds from Argalus) is a young gentleman of great birth, being our king’s sister’s son. He has a good nature, one that can see good and love it. Therefore he haunted the company of this worthy Argalus more than of any other. If there were not a friendship (which is so rare as it is to be doubted whether it be a thing indeed or but a word) at least there was a liking and friendliness, such as has brought forth the effects which you shall hear.
“About two years since, it so fell out that Clitophon brought Argalus to the house of a great lady, sister to my master, who had with her her only daughter, the fair Parthenia. She was fair indeed. I think that Fame itself dare not to call anyone fairer, if it be not Helena, queen of Corinth, and the two incomparable sisters of Arcadia. And what made her fairness much fairer was that it was but a fair ambassador of a most fair mind, full of wit, and a wit that delighted more to judge itself than to show itself. Her speech was as rare as precious, her silence without sullenness, her modesty without affectation, her shamefastness without ignorance. In sum, to praise her well, one must first set down what it is to be excellent, for so she is.
“I think you think that these perfections meeting, they could not choose but find one another, and delight in what they found, for likeness of manners is likely in reason to draw liking with affection. But actions do not always cross with reason. To be short, they loved, although for a while the fires thereof (hope’s wings being cut off) were blown by the bellows of despair, upon this occasion:
“There had been a good while before, and so continued, a suitor to this same lady, a great nobleman named Demagoras. Although from Laconia, he was a near neighbor to Parthenia’s mother. He was mighty in riches and power, and proud thereof, stubbornly stout, loving nobody but himself—and, for his own delight’s sake, Parthenia. He pursued vehemently his desire, and his riches had so gilded over all his other imperfections that the old lady (though contrary to my lord her brother’s mind) had given her consent. Using a mother’s authority upon her fair daughter, she had made Parthenia yield thereunto, not because Parthenia liked her mother’s choice, but because her obedient mind had not yet taken upon itself to make her own choice. The day of their assurance drew near, when my young lord Clitophon brought this noble Argalus, perchance principally to see so rare a sight as Parthenia was judged by all well-judging eyes.
“There were few days before the time of assurance appointed, yet Love, who saw he had a great journey to make in short time, so hasted himself that before her word could tie her to Demagoras, her heart had vowed her to Argalus, with so grateful a receipt in mutual affection that if she desired above all things to have Argalus, Argalus feared nothing but to miss Parthenia.
“By now Parthenia had learned both liking and misliking, loving and loathing, and out of passion began to take the authority of judgment, insomuch that when the time came that Demagoras (full of proud joy) thought to receive the gift of herself, she, with words of resolute refusal (though with tears showing she was sorry she must refuse) assured her mother she would first be bedded in her grave than wedded to Demagoras.
“The change was no more strange than unpleasant to her mother, who being determinately (lest I should say of a great lady, willfully) bent to marry her to Demagoras, tried all ways that a witty and hard-hearted mother could use upon so humble a daughter, in whom the only resisting power was love. But the more she assaulted, the more she taught Parthenia to defend; and the more Parthenia defended, the more she made her mother obstinate in the assault.
“Her mother at length found that Argalus eclipsed her daughter’s affection from shining upon Demagoras. As Argalus stood between them, she sought all means to remove him, so much the more as he manifested himself an unremovable suitor to her daughter. First she employed him in as many dangerous enterprises as ever the evil step-mother Juno recommended to the famous Hercules. But the more his virtue was tried, the more pure it grew, while all the things her mother did to overthrow him only served to set him upon the height of honor—enough to have moved her heart, especially to a man every way so worthy as Argalus. But she struggled against all reason because she would have her will and show her authority in matching Parthenia with Demagoras.
“The more virtuous Argalus was, the more she hated him. She thought herself conquered in his conquests and therefore employed him in more and more dangerous attempts. Meanwhile she used all extremities possible upon her fair daughter to make her listen. As to Argalus, the world sooner wanted occasions than he valor to go endure them. As to Parthenia, malice sooner ceased than her unchanged patience. It was hard to judge whether he in doing or she in suffering showed greater constancy of affection.
“It came to the point where by treasons Parthenia’s mother and Demagoras would have made away with Argalus, but he with providence and courage so passed over all, that the mother died from spiteful grief, her heart broken.
“Demagoras was sure that Parthenia would be never his, now that she was her own woman, and he received as much by her own determinate answer. Not desiring his own happiness, but rather envying Argalus, whom he saw with narrow eyes even ready to enjoy the fruition of his desires, he strengthened his conceit with all the mischievous counsels which disdained love and envious pride could give him, and when Argalus went home to fetch some of his principal friends to honor the marriage that Parthenia had most joyfully consented to, the wicked wretch found a time. Wicked Demagoras, I say, asked to speak with Parthenia, and her weak arms in vain resisted his unmerciful force as he rubbed all over her face a most horrible poison. The effect of the poison was such that never leper looked more ugly than Parthenia. Although her servants were as ready to revenge her as could be in such an unexpected mischief, Demagoras had his men