in conversation, and an excellent courtier without unfaithfulness. Phalantus, having found his sister’s melancholy (the result of her love for Amphialus) irremediable, had for a time left her court and gone into Laconia, where in the war against the Helots he had gotten the reputation of one both daring and skilled.
But as it was rather choice than nature that led him to matters of arms, as soon as the spur of honor ceased, he willingly rested in peaceable delights. He was beloved in all companies for his lovely qualities and his winning cheerfulness. To the prince and court of Laconia, no one was more agreeable than Phalantus. Not greatly given to struggle with his own disposition, he followed the gentle current of it, having a fortune sufficient to content him, and he content with a sufficient fortune.
“In that court,” continued Basilius, “he saw and was acquainted with this Artesia, whose beauty he now defends. He became her servant and called himself—and perchance thought himself—her lover. But certainly many times it falls out that these young companions make themselves believe they love at their first liking of a likely beauty, loving because they will love for want of other business, not because they feel indeed that divine power which makes the heart find a reason in passion. And so, God knows, they inconstantly leave upon the next chance that beauty casts before them.
“So, therefore taking love upon him like a fashion, he courted this Lady Artesia, who was as fit to pay him in his own money as might be. She thought she did wrong to her beauty if she were not proud of it. She called her disdain of him chastity, and she placed her honor in setting little by his honoring her. She determined never to marry except a man whom she thought worthy of her—and that was one in whom all worthiness was harbored. Not only nature but the upbringing she received from my sister-in-law Cecropia confirmed her in this notion.
“Cecropia in her widowhood had taken this young Artesia into her charge because Artesia’s father had been a dear friend of Cecropia’s dead husband. She taught Artesia to think that there is no wisdom except to include both heaven and earth in oneself, and that one should rather take on the appearance of love, courtesy, gratefulness, friendship and all other virtues than take such virtues into oneself.
“And so good a good disciple she found in Artesia that, liking the fruits of her own planting, she was content for Artesia to marry to her son, my nephew Amphialus, if he had consented. But I think her desire has lost some of its heat, since she has learned that such a queen as Helen offers so great a price as a kingdom to buy Amphialus’ favor. For if I am not deceived in my good sister Cecropia, she thinks no face so beautiful as one which looks under a crown.
“But Artesia indeed liked well my nephew Amphialus,” continued Basilius, “for I can never deem that ‘love’ which in haughty hearts proceeds of a desire only to please and, as it were, peacock themselves. She had shown vehemence of desire that way, I think because all her desires are vehement, so much that she placed her only brother, a fine youth called Ismenus, as Amphialus’ squire. She herself had been content to wait upon my sister Cecropia, hoping she might see the uttermost what she may work in Amphialus, who, being of a melancholy (though I must say, truly courteous and noble) mind, seems to love nothing less than love. But of late, through some adventure or inward miscontentment, he has withdrawn himself from anybody’s knowledge where he is. Therefore Artesia the easier condescended to go to the court of Laconia, whither she was sent for by the king’s wife, to whom she is somewhat related.
“And there, after the war of the Helots, this knight Phalantus made himself her servant (at least for tongue-delight), and she, so little caring as not to show mislike thereof, was content only to be noted to have a notable servant. For truly within these past few days, someone in my court who was closely acquainted with him made me a pleasant description of their love. Phalantus with cheerful looks would speak sorrowful words, using the phrase of his affection in so high a style that Mercury would not have wooed Venus with more magnificent eloquence, but nothing else, neither in behavior nor action, suggested that he felt any great trouble in his mind whether he succeeded with her or not. For her part, noting well how little he cared, she yet taught him that often it turns out to be foolish wittiness to speak more than one thinks.
“For she made earnest benefit of his jest, forcing him in respect of his profession to do her such services as were both cumbersome and costly to him, while he still thought he went beyond her, because his heart did not commit the idolatry. So one day, she—I think having in mind to make the fame of her beauty an orator for herself to Amphialus, persuading herself, perhaps, that it might fall out in him as it does in some that have delightful meat set before them, and have no stomach to it until other folks praise it—one day, upon Phalantus’ unconscionable praising of her and certain cast-away vows about how much he would do for her sake, she took the advantage to arrest his word as soon as it was out of his mouth. And by the virtue thereof, she charged him to go with her through all the courts of Greece, and with the challenge now made to give her beauty the principality over all others.
“Phalantus was entrapped, and saw round about him, but could not get out. He was exceedingly perplexed (as he confessed to him who told me the tale), not because he doubted himself (for indeed he had little cause, being accounted as perfect as any that Greece knows for the use of his lance especially, whereupon the challenge is to be tried), but because he feared to offend his sister Helen. And also, as he said, he was not so much blinded by his love, but that he must think (in his heart, whatsoever his mouth affirmed) that Helen, my daughters, and the fair Parthenia (wife to a most noble gentleman, my wife’s near kinsman) might far better put in their claim for that prerogative. But his promise had bound him prentice, and therefore it was now better to purchase thanks with willingness than with a discontented doing to have the pain and not the reward. Therefore he went on as his faith rather than love did lead him.”
“And now has he already passed through the courts of Laconia, Elis, Argos, and Corinth, and, as many times it happens that a good pleader makes a bad cause to prevail, so has his lance brought captives to the triumph of Artesia’s beauty—such as, though Artesia is among the fairest, yet in that company they would have had preeminence. For in those courts many knights that had been in other far countries defended such as they had seen and liked in their travel: but their defense had been such that they had forfeited pictures of their ladies, giving a forced false testimony to Artesia’s excellency.
“And now lastly Phalantus is come hither, where he has leave to try his fortune. But I assure you that, if I thought it not (in due and true consideration) an injurious service and churlish courtesy to put the danger of so noble a title in the deciding of such a danger-less combat, I would make Master Phalantus know that your eyes can sharpen a blunt lance, and that age, which my gray hairs (only gotten by the loving care of others) make seem more than it is, has not diminished in me the power to protect an undeniable verity.”
With that he bustled up himself, as though his heart would fain have walked abroad. Zelmane with an inward smiling gave him outward thanks, desiring him to reserve his force for worthier causes.
Chapter 16
Portraits of Ladies
Phalantus and Artesia make their appearance carrying pictures of ladies whose defenders have failed to uphold their beauty. These ladies include Andromana, Artaxia, Erona, Helen, Parthenia, and Urania. The pictures do not succeed in showing the ladies to advantage. (1593 ed. 30v.26)
So passing their time according to their will, they waited for the coming of Phalantus. The next morning, having already caused his tents to be pitched near to a fair tree close to the lodge, he had hung a shield upon the tree, which the defendant should strike, and that would call him to maintain his challenge. The device in the shield was a heaven full of stars, with a speech signifying that it was the beauty which gave it the praise.
Philantus himself came in next after a triumphant chariot, made of carnation-velvet, enriched with purple and pearl, wherein Artesia sat, drawn by four winged horses with artificial flaming mouths, and flaming wings, as if she had newly borrowed them from Phoebus. Before her marched, two after two, certain footmen pleasantly attired who, between them, held one picture after another of those who, because