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 But of late, through some adventure or inward miscontentment, he has withdrawn himself from anybody’s knowledge where he is.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 Phalantus ran well, had lost the prize in the race of beauty. At every pace the footmen paused, turning the pictures to each side so leisurely that they might be discerned with perfect judgment.
They came in following the order in which they were won. The first was the picture of Andromana, queen of Iberia, whom a Laconian knight had some time (and with her special favor) served, though some years since returned home, having defended her with more gratefulness than good fortune. But therein fortune had borrowed wit, for indeed she was not comparable to Artesia, not because she was a good deal older (for time had not yet been able to impoverish her store), but because her exceedingly red hair with small eyes did (like ill companions) disgrace the other assembly of most commendable beauties.
Next after her was borne the portrait of the princess of Elis, a lady that taught the beholders no other point of beauty but this, that as liking is not always the child of beauty, so whatever one likes is beautiful, for in that visage there was neither majesty, grace, favor, nor fairness, yet she did not lack a servant who would have made her fairer than the fair Artesia. He wrote her praises with his helmet in the dust, however, and left her picture as true a witness of his overthrow as his running was of her beauty.
After her was the goodly Artaxia, great queen of Armenia, a lady upon whom nature bestowed (and placed well) her most delightful colors. Nature proportioned her without any fault that could be quickly discovered by the senses, yet altogether seemed not to make up that harmony that Cupid delights in: the reason might seem to be a mannish countenance, which overthrew that lovely sweetness, the noblest power of womankind, far fitter to prevail by parley than by battle.
Of a far contrary consideration was the representation of her that next followed, which was Erona, queen of Lycia. Her hair was so brown that no man should have injured it to call it black. In the mixture of her cheeks the white so much overcame the red (though what was, was very pure) that it came near to paleness. Her face was a thought longer than exact symmetricians perhaps would allow. Yet love played his part so well in every part, that it caught hold of the judgment before it could judge, making it first love and after acknowledge it fair. For there was a certain delicacy, which, in yielding, conquered, and with a pitiful look made one find cause to crave help oneself.
After her came two ladies, of noble, but not of royal, birth. The former was named Baccha, who though very fair and of a fatness rather to allure than to displease, yet she over-familiarly laid open her breasts and made the countenance of her mouth between simpering and smiling. Her head bowed somewhat down and seemed to languish with idleness, and, with her eyes casting an inviting look upward, dissuaded with too much persuading. Her hope seemed to run faster than she inspired desire.
The second, whose name was written Leucippe, was of a fine daintiness of beauty. Her
