A Sculptor and Other Poems :: :: University of Virginia Library

When the good king, Basilius, come to years
More than decaying, (he was king of all
Arcadia) took Gynecia to his wife,
Came with her a young lord nam'd Argalus,
Who was her cousin-german; thither led
By honour partly and the love of her,
And partly by the humour of youth, which aye
Thinks that is good whose good he doth not see.
And in that lord he won so great increase
Of knowledge that, when years were spent, he shew'd
In all his actions such a virtuous mind,
He was Arcadia's glory: a gentleman
Rarely accomplisht, excellently learn'd,
Without vain-glory; valiant too—the earth
Holds not a man that hath perform'd more acts
Heroical than he; for valour of mind
And strength of body, none to him preferr'd,
If any equall'd; yet so valiant that

To none he ever durst do injury.
In 'haviour surely sober, ever wise,
To musing somewhat giv'n, but ne'er uncourteous;
His word led by his thought and follow'd of
His deed; more liberal than magnificent.
In sum, I say, such man was Argalus,
The nicest eye could find no spot in him,
Unless the over-vehement constancy
Of spotless love be counted for a spot.

The young lord Clitiphon, the king's sister's son,
(His mother married with good lord Kalander)
Haunted the company of Argalus
More than of any other, and between
These twain a liking and a friendliness
Sprang up and brought forth this that you shall hear.

It fell upon a time that Clitiphon
Brought Argalus to a great lady's house—
His father's sister's house he brought him to—
Who had one child, Parthenia; fair indeed,
And fairer much her fairness was, ywis,
Seeing 'twas but a fair ambassador
Of a fair mind exceeding, full of wit
Which better lov'd to judge itself than shew,
Her speech being rare as precious, and her silence
No sullenness, her modesty sincere,
And her shamefastness without ignorance.

In sum, if you would praise her, first set down
What is it to be excellent; this is she.

Now these perfections meeting could not choose
But find each other and delight in that
They found; likeness of manners surely will
Draw liking with affection; nor, indeed,
Do actions always cross with reason; in short,
They lov'd, though, for a while, the fire of Love,
Hope's fanning wings cut off, was blown for them
With a wild wind even by Despair himself.

Long while Demagoras had woo'd the maid;
A suitor mighty in wealth and pow'r, and proud
Thereof, and stout, who, save himself, lov'd none.
(He lov'd her for the sake of self-delight.)
And, following vehemently his desire,
His riches gilding over all his faults,
Parthenia's mother gave him her consent,
And, using with her child authority,
Had made her yield thereunto: not because
She lik'd that choice, but her obedient mind
Not yet had taken on it to make a choice.

And now the assurance-day drew very near,
When my lord Clitiphon brought Argalus,
Perchance that he might see so rare a sight
As she by all well-judging eyes was judg'd.

But though few days before the assurance-time
Appointed were to pass, yet Love, who saw
He had a journey very great to make
Within a time so short, so hasted him,
That, ere her word could to Demagoras
Tie her, her heart vow'd her to Argalus,
And he fear'd nothing but the missing her,
As she desir'd o'er all the having him.
And when the time came that Demagoras,
Full of proud joy, thought to receive the gift
Of her sweet self, she, very resolute,
Yet grieving that she must refuse, said thus,
She rather would be bedded in her grave
Than wedded to the lord Demagoras.

And strange unto her mother seem'd the change,
Strange as unpleasing, and all ways she tried
That ever mother hard of heart could use
Upon a humble child in whom the one
Resisting pow'r was love: but yet, the more
The maid defended did the mother grow
Obstinate in assault; and, finding now
That Argalus, standing between, eclipst
Parthenia's shining from Demagoras,
She sought by all means to be rid of him,
Employing him in dangerous enterprise
As ever step-dame Juno Hercules.

But, as she tried his virtue, purer still
It grew, and all things done to overthrow
His virtue set him up on honour's highth.
Yet struggling, seeing she would have her will,
And shew authority, as Argalus grew
In virtue and strength she hated him the more,
Thinking his conquest only conquer'd her;
And therefore, still employ'd him in attempts,
More and more dangerous, and, the meanwhile,
Using all possible extremities
On her fair child, that she might make her give
Herself to her direction. Hard to judge
If he in doing, or she in suffering,
Shew'd forth affection's greater constancy;
For rather did the world occasions want
Than Argalus the heart to go through them:
So with Parthenia; malice sooner ceast
Than her unchanged patience. Then, in sooth,
By treason foul Demagoras and the dame
Would fain have made away with Argalus,
But he, with courage and with providence
So past o'er all, she took a spiteful grief,
And her heart brake withal and so she died.

But now Demagoras assur'd himself
Parthenia free would ne'er be bound to him;
And, hearing thus much from her steadfast lips,
He, not more wishing his own happiness

Than envying Argalus, whom, with narrow eyes
He saw e'en ready to enjoy the bliss
Of full desire, so strengthen'd his conceit
With all the mischievous counsels love disdain'd
And envious pride could give: and so the wretch,
Taking the time when Argalus was gone
Hence to his country, gone to fetch his friends
For honouring of the marriage, (her consent
Joyfully given thereto), the wretch, I say,
Desiring privily to speak with her,
With force unmerciful, her too weak arms
In vain resisting, rubb'd upon her face
A horrible poison, the effect whereof
Was never leper lookt more foul than she.

This coming unto Clitiphon's father's ears,
The good old Kalander of famous name,
Her uncle, he made such means Demagoras
Was banisht from the land on pain of death.
Who, hating the punishment where the fault he should
Have hated, join'd himself with all his pow'r
Unto the Helots, rebels 'gainst the State;
And they, right glad to have among them one
Of such authority, made him general;
And under him these Helots did commit
The most outrageous villainies a base herd
In desperate revenge can think or do.

But in a little space came Argalus back,
Poor gentleman! having within his heart
Her image fair, and promising his eyes
The uttermost of their felicity,
When they—none other dar'd to tell it him—
Were the first messengers of their own woe.

And who can tell the grief of both of them
When he did know her? At the first, indeed,
He knew her not, and neither, at the first,
Could knowledge possibly have virtue's aid
So ready as not faintly to lament
The loss of such a jewel; so much the more
That skilful men sadly assured them
'Twas past the healing: but, within a while,
His truth of love and virtuous constancy
Shining through foulest mists took such full hold
Of Argalus, he began to comfort her
With comforts such as witty arguments
May give adversity; nor only this,
But with the most abundant kindness that
Eye-ravisht lover can express, he sought
To drive extremity of grief from her,
And hasten on the time of marriage; and
Thereunto not less earnest cheerfully
Than if she were not disinherited
Of that most goodly portion liberally
Bequeath'd by Nature; for that cause deferr'd

His purpos'd vengeance on Demagoras,
So he might keep continually with her:
Shewing more humble serviceableness
And joy to please her now than e'er before.

But even as he gave this example rare,
Not to be hoped for again unless
There might arise another Argalus,
So did Parthenia take as strange a course:
For, though she more desir'd his love than life,
She overcame her own desire and his,
And in no sort would yield to marry him.
And strange that he, by an affection sprung
Even from excessive beauty, should delight
Thus in such horrible foulness; and that she,
Of vehement desire to have him, should
Yet kindly thus a resolution build
Never to have him: for the truth it is
She lov'd him so she could not find in heart
To tie him down to an unworthy thing.

He conjur'd her by memory of her love,
And all true oaths of his affection true,
She would not make him so unblest to think
That with her face he had also lost her heart.
He told her, at its fairest, that her face
Had but a marshal been, to lodge her love
Within his mind, which now was plac'd so well

It needed not an outward harbinger:
Beseeching her, with very tears, to know
That not so superficial was his love
To go no deeper than the skin, which yet,
Since it was hers, to him was very fair.
How could he, thus ungrateful, love her less
For that which for his sake she had endur'd?
He ne'er beheld it but he saw therein
The loveliness of her great love toward him.
Protesting unto her he would not take
Joy of his life an 'twere not joy of her.

But she made answer, wringing of his hand;
“My lord, God knows I love you;” did she say.
“If I were princess of the whole wide world,
And had all blessings e'er the hour brought forth,
I would not make delay to lay myself
And them beneath your feet; or, if I had
Remain'd but as I was, though, I confess,
Unworthy far of you, I would with joy
Too great for my heart now to look upon,
Have taken your vouchsafing me to take,
And all defects with faith and love supplied.
But let me be more miserable than now,
Much more, much more, ere I match Argalus
To such Parthenia. No; live happy, Dear;
I give you back in full your liberty,
And I beseech of you to take the gift,

And I assure you that I shall rejoice
Whatever I be, to see you coupled so
As for your honour and your joy is best.”

With that she burst out crying and weeping sore,
Not able longer to contain herself,
Blaming her fate and wishing she were dead.

But Argalus, with a most heavy heart,
Pursuing his desire, she, fixt of mind
To avoid entreaty, fly all company,
Ay, even his, did steal away one night,
But whither no man knew. He sought her long
In many places, until wanhope came
Upon his heart, and he grew weary of life.

But now, determining to be aveng'd
Upon Demagoras, he went alone,
Disguis'd, to the chief town the Helots held;
Where, coming into his presence, guarded round
By many soldiers, he could not delay
His fury longer for a fitter time,
But setting on him there despite of those
That helpt him, gave him many mortal wounds.
And he himself had perisht presently
But that Demagoras order'd he be kept
Alive, perchance with the intent to feed
His eyes with cruel persecution laid

On him; but death came sooner than he thought;
And his successor kept Argalus alive,
To wait for death till ending of the war.

Now strange events fell out which brought the war
To a quick issue, and Argalus was freed;
Who caring little, Parthenia being lost,
Whether he liv'd or died, went on his way
And sojourn'd at the house of Kalander.
And there was merry-making in the house,
Where all men, saving Argalus alone,
Shew'd forth in joyful eyes their joyful hearts.

Then fortune who, belike, was bid to the feast,
And meant to play the Goodfellow thereat,
Among them did a pleasant adventure bring.

As they had newly din'd, a messenger
Came unto Kalander, who brought him word
A noble lady, kinswoman to the queen
Of Corinth, was come thither and desir'd
A lodging in his house; and Kalander
Went out to meet her, all his worthiest guests
With him, save Argalus, who remain'd alone
Within his chamber, thinking of his love,
Wishing the company were broken up,
That he might make his solitary quest.

But, when they met the lady, Kalander
Thought straightway it had surely been his niece,
And would have spoken in familiar kind.
But she, in grave and honourable sort,
Gave him to understand that he mistook;
And Kalander, half asham'd, excus'd himself
With the exceeding likeness that she bore
Unto Parthenia, though indeed it seem'd
That, of the two, this lady had the more
Dainty and pure conplexion; and she said
It very well might be, because they two
Were taken, one for other, many times.

But, soon as she was brought into the house,
Ere she would rest her, she desir'd to speak
With Argalus in public, who, she heard,
Was in the house, and he came forth in haste,
And thought in haste as Kalander had thought,
With sudden change of joy to grief: but she,
When she had staid their thought by telling them
Her name and quality, spake on this sort.

“Lord Argalus,” she said, “late being left
At Helen's court, the Queen of Corinth, chief
During her absence, she being gone thence
For some occasion, came there unto me
Parthenia, so disfigur'd that, I think,
Greece hath not anything more foul to shew.

Some vehement oaths it took, yea, and good proofs
Ere she could make me think that it was she:
Yet, finding certainly that she it was,
And pitying her greatly, all the more
That men had told me, even as you do now,
Of that great likeness which between us is,
I took the dearest care I could of her,
And understood the woful history
Of her adventure; ay, and therewithal,
Of that most noble constancy in you,
Lord Argalus, which, whoso loveth not,
He sheweth him a hater of all good,
Ay, and unworthy with mankind to live.

But naught of outward cherishing could salve
Her inward sore: a few days since she died.
But, ere she died, Parthenia earnestly
Desir'd me and persuaded that of none
As husband I should think, saving of you,
The one man that was worthy to be lov'd.
Withal she bade me give this ring to you,
Desiring, and, by love's authority,
Commanding you to turn that love to me
Which you had borne to her; assuring you
Nothing there is can please her spirit more
Than to behold us twain together matcht.

And now, my lord, albeit this office I take
Upon me be not suitable to me,

In sex or in estate, seeing my sex
Should rather look to be desir'd, yet, sooth,
Desert uncommon claims uncommon deed:
And therefore I am come with faithful love
Built on your worthiness, to offer you
Myself, and to beseech you to accept
The offer; and, if these noble gentlemen
Here present, say it is great folly, yet
Let them withal say that it is great love.”

With that she staid, attending earnestly
The answer Argalus should make; who, first
Heaving most hearty sighs, the obsequies
Of his Parthenia, answered thus to her.

“Madam, I am infinitely bound to you
For not less rare than noble courtesy,
And infinitely bound because of that
Sweet kindness I perceive you shew'd to her;”
(With that the tears ran down his face, but yet
He follow'd on, she listening grave,) “and just
As much as so unfortunate a man,
Fit to be spectacle of misery,
Can do you service, here you may be sure
That you have made a purchase of a slave
Who, while I live, shall never fail you at need.
But this great matter you propose to me,
Wherein I am not so blind as not to see

What happiness 'twould be—O excellent
Lady, if but my heart were mine to give,
You should possess it before anyone;
But it is dead Parthenia's: there began
All matter of affection and there ends.
I hope not long to tarry after her
With whose good beauty only had I been
In love, I should be now with you who have
The same; but 'twas Parthenia's self I lov'd
And love; which never likeness can make one;
Which no commandment ever can dissolve;
Which never any foulness can defile;
Which never any death can bring to end.”

“And must I bear disgrace to be refus'd?”
Said she. But he, “Nay, use not that hard word,
Who know your own exceeding worthiness,
Far above my desert: I but refuse
Happiness, since the only happiness
I could or can desire, I am refus'd.”

But scarcely had he said these words than she
Ran unto him and fell upon his neck;
“Why, then, take thy Parthenia, Argalus!”
And there she stood, Parthenia's very self.

Then, seeing grief forbade him to believe,
She told him all the truth with circumstance;
How, being gone away, meaning to die,

Moaning aloud in solitary place,
Helen, the Queen of Corinth, passing by,
Walking alone, heard her and never left
Till she had heard the whole of her discourse;
And, pitying her greatly, Helen sent
A skill'd physician of her own, in hope
That he could help her; which he well perform'd
In that same sort they saw. Then she, with her
Taking of the queen's servants, thought to make
This trial, whether Argalus would yet
Quickly forget his true Parthenia or no.

And Helen's servants well confirm'd her speech,
And Argalus believ'd what he desir'd
More than ten thousand years of mortal life;
And so the wedding-feast was made for them.