(whose intercessions I might use for my restitution).
“He willingly took my letter which, being well sealed, indeed contained other matter. For I wrote to my trusty servant Kalodoulus, whom you know, that as soon as Menalcas had delivered the letter he should keep him prisoner in his house, not suffering him to have conference with anybody till he knew my further pleasure. In all other respects he should treat him as my brother. And now Menalcas is gone, and I am a poor shepherd, more proud of my estate as a shepherd than of any kingdom, because it is manifest that the highest point to which outward things can bring one is contentment of the mind, with which no estate—and without which all estates—be miserable.”
“I have chosen this day because, as Menalcas told me, the other shepherds are called to make their sports. I hope that you will, with your credit, find means to get me allowed among them.”
“You need not doubt,” answered Zelmane, “but that I will be your good mistress. Marry, the best way of dealing must be by Dametas, who, since his blunt brain perceived some favor the prince bears unto me, is much more serviceable to me than I can find any cause to wish him. Without doubt the most servile flattery is lodged most easily in those of the grossest capacity, for their ordinary inclination is to yield to their greaters—and then they do not have wit to discern the right degrees of duty. And therefore, despair not to win Dametas, for every present occasion will catch his senses and with that bridle and saddle you shall well ride him.”
“O heaven and earth,” said Musidorus, “to what a pass are brought our minds, which are turned awry from the right line of virtue to these crooked shifts? O love, it is you who does it. You change name upon name. You disguise our bodies and disfigure our minds. And indeed you have reason, for though the ways are foul, the journey’s end is most fair and honorable.”
blancher] a person placed to turn a deer in a particular direction.
“Musidorus, in order to be near Pamela, changes clothes” (weeds) “with the shepherd Menalcas,” calling on the clothes to “befit” (become) what he “experiences” (tries) as a “guest, his body in shepherd’s clothes” (Ringler 385). In the second stanza he asks his shepherd’s clothes to utter a complaint (plaint) that reveals his feeling of helplessness to be worthy of Pamela now that he no longer wears his own finery (spoils himself of bliss).
Chapter 19
Wild Animals Attack
Zelmane saves Philoclea from a lion. Dorus saves Pamela from a bear. Dametas takes credit for having hired Dorus, singing a ditty on the subject. A messenger brings Cecropia’s apology. Her game keeper had lost control of some beasts. Gynecia suspects her sister-in-law of treachery but keeps silent. (1593 ed. 35v.34)
“No more of these philosophies, sweet Musidorus,” said Zelmane, “for here comes the very person of Dametas.” And so he did indeed, with a sword by his side, a forest-bill on his neck, and a chopping-knife under his girdle—well provided with weapons, as he had been ever since Zelmane had put fear into him. But he no sooner saw her, but with head and arms he laid his reverence before her, enough to have made any man foreswear all courtesy. And then in Basilius’ name he invited her to walk down to the place where that day they were to have the pastorals.
When he noticed that Musidorus was not one of the shepherds allowed in that place, Dametas would fain have persuaded himself to utter some anger, but that he dared not. Yet muttering and champing, as though his cud troubled him, he gave occasion to Musidorus to come near him. Musidorus then feigned the tale of his own life: that he was a younger brother to the shepherd Menalcas, by name Dorus, sent by his father in his tender age to Athens, there to learn some cunning more than ordinary that he might be better liked by the prince. And after his father’s death, his brother Menalcas (who had lately gone there to fetch him home) was also deceased, and Menalcas (upon his death) had charged him to seek the service of Dametas and to be wholly and ever guided by him as one in whose judgment and integrity the prince had singular confidence. For a token of this he gave Dametas a good sum of gold in ready coin, which Menalcas had bequeathed to him on the condition Dametas should receive poor Dorus into his service so his mind and manners might grow the better by his daily example.
Dametas, moved more by golden eloquence than by any other style, being also tickled by Musidorus’ praises, had his brain so turned that he became slave to that which he that sued to be his servant offered to give him. Yet for countenance’s sake he seemed very squeamish, in respect of the charge he had to protect Princess Pamela. But such was the secret operation of the gold, helped by the persuasion of the Amazon Zelmane—who said it was pity so handsome a young man should be anywhere else than with such a good master—that in the end Dametas agreed that he would receive Dorus into his service, if he behaved himself that day to the liking of Basilius and the king was content with his employment.
And thus they went to the lodge, where they found Gynecia and her daughters ready to go to the field to delight themselves there awhile until the shepherds should arrive. On the way, also taking Zelmane with them as they went, Dametas told them of Dorus and desired he might be accepted there that day instead of his brother Menalcas.
Basilius stayed behind to bring the shepherds, with whom he meant to confer, to breed the better Zelmane’s liking (his only concern). The other beautiful band came to the fair field appointed for the shepherdish pastimes. It was indeed a place of delight, for through the middle of it there ran a sweet brook, which did both hold the eye open with its azure streams and yet seek to close the eye with the purling noise it made upon the pebble stones it ran over. The field itself was set in some places with roses, and in all the rest constantly preserved a flourishing green. The roses added such a ruddy show unto it, as though the field were bashful at its own beauty. About it—as if it had been to enclose a theater—grew such sort of trees as either excellence of fruit, stateliness of growth, continual greenness, or poetical fancies have made at any time famous. In most of this theater there had been framed by art such pleasant arbors that one answered another and they became a gallery aloft from tree to tree almost round about. They cast a perfect shadow below, providing a pleasant refuge from the choleric look of Phoebus.30
In this place, while Gynecia walked hard by them, carrying many unquiet contentions about her, the ladies sat down and asked diverse questions of the shepherd Dorus. He kept his eye constantly upon Pamela and answered with such a trembling voice and abashed countenance, and oftentimes so far from the matter that it was some sport to the young ladies, who thought it want of education which made him so disconcerted by such unfamiliar company.
But Zelmane, who saw in him the mirror of her own misery, took the hand of Philoclea and with burning kisses set it close to her lips—as if it should stand there like a hand in the margin of a book, to note some saying worthy to be marked—and began to speak these words—“Oh Love, since thou art so changeable in men’s estates, how art thou so constant in their torments?”—when suddenly there came out of a wood a monstrous lion with a she-bear not far from him of little less fierceness, which, as they guessed, had been hunted in forests far off and had by chance come thither where before such beasts had never been seen.
Then care, not fear—or not fear for themselves—altered something the countenances of the two lovers. But as any man might perceive, this was rather an assembling of powers than the dismayedness of courage.
Philoclea no sooner spied the lion but that she leapt up, obeying the commandment of fear, and ran toward the lodge as fast as her delicate legs could carry her, while Dorus drew Pamela behind a tree, where she stood quaking like a partridge on which the hawk is even ready to seize.
Seeing Philoclea run away, the lion bent his race toward her and was ready to seize himself on the prey, when, with swiftness of desire, Zelmane (to whom danger then was a cause of fearlessness, all the composition of her elements being nothing but