tracts an insensible passion for an object he had not yet seen, and employs his hours in picturing the charms which were the general theme of admiration. Hence, his musing and love of solitude while he continued at the hospitable abode of Kalander. His desire to behold the perfections of Philoclea becomes soon too violent to be repressed: he therefore determines to leave the habitation of Kalander, and, though with much reluctance, his friend Musidorus, in the furtherance and prosecution of his desire. Attiring himself in the dress of an Amazon, he procures admission, under the disguise and the name of Zelmane, into the country retreat of Basilius. The first glance he obtains of Philoclea confirms the empire she already had gained of his heart; while Philoclea, ignorant of his being other than he appeared to be, conceives for him a tender and innocent affection. The effect which his appearance has upon the king and queen is equally powerful: Basilius, ignorant of his sex, becomes deeply enamoured of Pyrocles, under his character of Zelmane. The penetration of Gynecia, however, sees immediately through his disguise, but she, not less smitten with his beauty and perceiving his love for Philoclea, watches him with unremitting jealousy. Such is the state of things when the meeting between the two young princes takes place, and such is the account which Musidorus receives from Pyrocles of the story of his passion. About this time, Phalantus of Corinth, a valiant and well-proved knight, passing through Arcadia, offers to maintain the supreme beauty of his lady Arteria against all comers, after having been successful in several other courts, and brought with him in triumph the miniatures of the different ladies whose knights he had conquered, and whose various beauties are painted in Sir Philip Sidney's usual felicitous manner. challenge, of course, appears little less than high treason to the passionate love of Pyrocles, and as an insult to the supremacy of those charms whose force had captivated his heart: indignant in her cause, he immediately puts on armour, and Phalantus quickly falls before the conquering lance of his opponent, not however without the right of priority of combat being first contested by Musidorus, who had in like manner armed himself for the encounter, to defend the rights of Pamela to the palm of beauty and loveliness; and who, not less wounded than his friend Pyrocles by the irresistible shafts of Cupid, now disguises himself in the dress of a shepherd, and procures himself to be taken into the service of Dametas. A fresh occasion soon offers itself to the young princes, of signalizing their valour in the defence of their mistresses. Two wild beasts, suspected to have been let loose by Cecropia, the implacable enemy of the family of Basilius, fall upon the princesses as they are walking in the wood, and they are only prevented from inevitable death

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by the intervention and courage of their lovers, who each kill one of the beasts, and cutting off their heads present them to their mistresses as trophies of their prowess. The valour of Pyrocles being performed under his character of the Amazon Zelmane, is considered almost supernatural, and he becomes more and more an object of love to Basilius and Gynecia, by both of whom he is tormented by an avowal of their passion. Not less is the heart of Philoelea enamoured; and the following passage, in which the progress of her love is described, will perhaps more completely elucidate the peculiar style of Sidney, than whole pages of laboured analysis.

"The sweet-minded Philoclea was in their degree of well-doing, to whom the not knowing of evil serveth for a ground of virtue, and hold their inward powers in better forme, with an unspotted simplicity, than many who rather cunningly seek to know what goodness is, tham willingly take into themselves the following of it. But as that sweet and simple breath of heavenly goodness is the easier to be altered, because it hath not passed through the worldly wickedness nor feelingly found the evil that evil carries with it, so now the lady Philoclea whose eies and senses had received nothing but according to the natural course of each thing required, whose tender youth had obediently lived under her parents' behests without framing out of her own will the forechoosing of any thing; when now she came to a point wherein her judgment was to be practised in knowing faultiness by his first tokens, she was like a young fawn, who comming in the wind of the hunters doth not know whether or no it be a thing or no to be eschewed, whereof at the time she began to get a costly experience. For, after that Zelmane had a while lived in the lodge with her, and that her only being a noble stranger had bred a kinde of heedfull attention; her comming to that lonely place, (where she had no body but her parents) a willingnesse of conversation; her wit and behaviour, a liking and silent admiration; at length the excellency of her naturall gifts, joyned with the extream shewes she made of most devout honouring Philoelea, (carrying thus, in one person, the only two bands of good will, lovelinesse and lovingnesse,) brought forth in her heart a yeelding to a most friendly affection; which when it had gotten so full possession of the keyes of her minde, that it would receive no message from her senses, without that affection were the interpreter; then straight grew an exceeding delight stil to be with her, with an unmeasurable liking of all that Zelmane did; matters being so turned in her, that where at first liking her manners did breed good will, now good-will became the chiefe cause of liking her manners: so that within a while Zelmane was not prized for her demeanure, but the demeanure was prized because it was Zelmane's. Then followed that most naturall effect of conforming her selfe to that which she did like, and not onely wishing to be her selfe such another in all things, but to ground an imitation upon so much an esteemed authority: so that the next degree was to marke all Zelmane's doings, speeches, and fashions, and to take

them into her self, as a pattern of worthy proceeding. Which when once it was enacted, not onely by the cominalty of passions; but agreed unto by her most noble thoughts, and that reason it selfe (not yet experienced in the issues of such matters) had granted his royall assent; then friendship (a diligent officer) took care to see the statute throughly observed. Then grew on that not onely she did imitate the sobernesse of her countenance, the gracefulnesse of her speech, but even their particular gestures: so that as Zelmane did often eye her, she would often eye Zelmane, and as Zelmane's eyes would deliver a submissive but vehement desire in their look, she, though as yet she had not the desire in her, yet should her eyes answer in like piercing kindnesse of a looke. Zelmane, as much as Gynecia's jealousie would suffer, desired to be neere Philoelea; Philoelea, as much as Gynecia's jealousie would suffer, desired to be neer Zelmane. If Zelmane tooke her hand and softly strained it, she also (thinking the knots of friendship ought to be mutuall) would (with a sweet fastnesse) shew she was loth to part from it. And if Zelmane sighed, she would sigh also; when Zelmane was sad, she deemed it wisdome, and therefore she would be sad too. Zelmane's languishing countenance with crost armes, and sometimes cast-up eyes, she thought to have an excellent grace; and therefore she also willingly put on the same countenance: till at the last (poore soule, ere she were aware) she accepted not onely the badge, but the service; not onely the signe, but the passion signified. For whether it were, that her wit in continuance did finde, that Zelmane's friendship was full of impatient desire, having more than ordinary limits, and therfore she was content to second Zelmane, though her selfe knew not the limits, or that in truth, true love (well considered) hath an infective power; at last she fell in acquaintance with love's harbenger, wishing: first, she would wish, that they two might live all their lives together, like two of Diana's nymphs. But that wish, she thought, not sufficient, because she knew, there would be more nymphs besides them who also would have their part in Zelmane. Then would she wish, that she were her sister, that such a naturall band might make her more special to her. But against that, she considered, that, though being her sister, if she happened to be married, she should be robbed of her. Then, grown bolder, she would wish either her selfe or Zelmane a man, that there might succeed a blessed marriage between them. But when that wish had once displayed his ensigne in her mind, then followed whole squadrons of longings that so it might be, with a maine battell of mislikings and repinings against their creation, that so it was not. Then dreams by night began to bring more unto her, then she durst wish by day, where out waking did make her know her selfe the better by the image of those fancies. But as some diseases when they are easie to be cured, they are hard to be known, but when they grow easie to be known, they are almost impossible to be cured; so the sweet Philoclea, while she might prevent it, she did not feele it, now she felt it, when it was past preventing;, like a river, no rampiers being built against it, till al

ready it have overflowed. For now indeed love puld off his maske, and shewed his face unto her, and told her plainly that she was his prisoner. Then needed she no more paint her face with passions, for passions shone thorough her face; then her rosie colour was often encreased with extraordinary blushing, and so another time, perfect whitenesse descended to a degree of palenesse: now hot then cold, desiring she knew not what, nor how if she knew what. Then her minde (though too late) by the smart was brought to thinke of the disease, and her own proofe taught her to know her mother's minde; which (as no error gives so strong assault as that which comes armed in the authority of a parent,) so greatly fortified her desires, to see that her mother had the like desires. And the more jealous her mother was, the more she thought the jewell precious, which was with so many locks guarded. But that prevailing so farre as to keep the two lovers from private conference, then began she to feele the sweetnesse of a lover's solitarinesse, when freely with words and gestures as if Zelmane were present, she might give passage to her thoughts: and so, as it were, utter out some smoke of those flames, wherewith else she was not only burned but smothered. As this night, that going from the one lodge to the other by her mother's commandement, with dolefull gestures and uncertain paces, she did willingly accept the time's offer to be awhile alone: so that, going a little aside into the wood, where many times before she had delighted to walk, her eyes were saluted with a tuft of trees so close set together, as with the shade the moon gave through it, it might breed a fearfull kinde of devotion to look upon it. But true thoughts of love banished all vaine fancy of superstition. Full well she did both remember and like the place; for there had she often with their shade beguiled Phoebus of looking upon her: there had she enjoyed her selfe often, while she was mistresse of her selfe, and had no other thoughts but such as might arise out of quiet senses."

Musidorus, who had, on entering into the service of Dametas, assumed the name of Dorus, has now frequent opportunities of gazing on the charms of his mistress, and of endeavouring to implant in her, already grateful for the assistance he had afforded her, a reciprocal passion. The apparent meanness of his condition, he perceives will of itself be sufficient to prevent his obtaining any interest in her breast, without removing the scruples of her offended pride. To effect this, he feigns a passion for Mopsa, the mishapen daughter of Dametas, and under the pretence of amusing her with a tale, gives Pamela the whole history of himself and his cousin, and relates it so as to give her suspicions of his real birth and character. The following is an account of the manner in which the two young princes were educated.

"Almost before they could perfectly speak, they began to receive conceits not unworthy of the best speakers: excellent devices being

used to make even their sports profitable; images of battailes and fortifications being then delivered to their memory, which after their stronger judgements might dispense, the delight of tales being converted to the knowledge of all the stories of worthy princes, both to move them to do nobly and teach them how to do nobly, the beauty of vertue still being set before their eyes, and that taught them with far more diligent care than grammaticall rules, their bodies exercised in all abilities, both of doing and suffering, and their minds acquainted by degrees with dangers, and in summe, all bent to the making up of princely minds: no servile feare used towards them, nor any other violent restraint, but still as to princes: so that a habite of commanding was naturallized in them, and therefore the farther from tyranny. Nature having done so much for them in nothing, as that it made them lords of truth, whereon all the other goods were builded.”—p. 122.

Notwithstanding the fervor with which he obliquely presses his suit, she gives him little hope of a requital, and covers her inward affections with an outward mask of coldness, of which he thus complains to his friend Pyrocles.

"In the princesse I could finde no apprehension of what I either said or did, but with a calme carelesnesse letting each thing slide, (just as we do by their speeches who neither in matter nor person doe any way belong unto us) which kinde of cold temper, mixt with that lightning of her naturall majesty, is of all others most terrible unto me for yet if I found she contemned me, I would desperately labour both in fortune and vertue to overcome it; if she onely misdoubted me, I were in heaven; for quickly I would bring sufficient assurance; lastly, if she hated me, yet I should know what passion to deale with : and either with infinitenesse of desert I would take away the fewell from the fire; or, if nothing would serve, then I would give her my heart bloud to quench it. But this cruell quietnes, neither retiring to mislike, nor proceeding to favour; gracious, but gracious still after one manner: all her courtesies having this engraven in them, that what is done is for vertue's sake, not for the parties, ever keeping her course like the sun, who neither for our praises nor curses will spur or stop his horses. This (I say) heavenlinesse of hers (for howsoever my misery is, I cannot but so entitle it) is so impossible to reach unto, that I almost begin to submit myselfe to the tyranny of despaire, not knowing any way of perswasion, where wisdome seems to be unsensible."-p. 107.

Such is the course of things at the retreat of Basilius. It now becomes necessary to introduce new personages on the drama: these are Cecropia and Amphialus. Cecropia, the widow of the younger brother of Basilius, is a proud and ambitious woman; who, from the long period of celibacy which had preceded the marriage of Basilius, had begun to consider the crown of Arcadia as the lawful property of her own family, and her son Amphialus as its certain inheritor. Upon his