LITMIR.BIZ

      Chapter 2

      War-torn Laconia

      The shepherds comfort Musidorus and also describe the civil war that has devastated Laconia, where the peasants have revolted. Musidorus, who now calls himself Palladius, is sick and weak, but eager for news of his friend Pyrocles, who uses the name Daiphantus. Seeing that Palladius (Musidorus) is a man of better rank than his appearance indicates, Kalander adjusts his hospitality to suit his guest’s social standing. (1593 ed. 3.28)

      “Now sir,” said they, “this is how it is with us. We are in profession but shepherds and in this country of Laconia little better than strangers, and therefore neither with skill, ability, nor power greatly able to help you. But what we can present to you is this: Arcadia, where we are from, is but a little way from here, and even upon the next confines there dwells a gentleman, by name Kalander, who regards us with favor. A hospitable man, Kalander is so much visited that no news stirs that does not come to his ears. He is so beloved of his neighbors for his upright dealing that many are always ready to serve him to the uttermost. And having the great good will of our prince, Kalander can quickly obtain the use of his name and credit, which has a principal sway not only in his own Arcadia, but in all the countries of Peloponnesus. And this above all, all these things give him less the power to benefit others than his nature gives him the will to do so. No music is so sweet to his ear as deserved thanks.

      “We will bring you to him, and there you may recover your health without which you cannot make any diligent search for your friend, and therefore you must labor for it. Besides, we are sure the comfort of courtesy and the ease of wise counsel shall not be wanting.” Musidorus, unacquainted with the country, his wits astonished with sorrow, gave easy consent to that from which he saw no reason to disagree.

      After defraying the mariners by bestowing a ring upon them, Musidorus and the two shepherds set out together through Laconia. Claius and Strephon took turns carrying his chest, while Musidorus only carried in his countenance the evident marks of a sorrowful mind supported by a weak body—which they, perceiving, and knowing that the violence of sorrow cannot at first be striven against (like a mighty beast, it is sooner tamed with following than overthrown by withstanding), gave way for that day and the next, never troubling him either with asking questions or finding fault with his melancholy, but rather fitting to his dolor dolorous discourses of their own and other folks’ misfortunes.

      Although their speeches had no lively entrance to his senses shut up in sorrow, yet like one half-asleep he took in much that was said to him, and so, as a man might say, ere sorrow was aware, his thoughts turned to something beside his own sorrow until at length he grew content to mark their speeches, then to marvel at such wit in shepherds, then to like their company, and lastly to vouchsafe conference.

      Three days later, the morning strew roses and violets upon the heavenly floor against the coming of the sun, and the nightingales (striving one with the other which could in most dainty variety recount their wrong-caused sorrow) made them put off their sleep. Rising from under a tree (which that night had been their pavilion), they continued their journey, which now welcomed Musidorus’ eyes, wearied by the wasted soil of Laconia, with delightful prospects. Here hills garnished their proud heights with stately trees; the base estate of humble valleys seemed comforted by refreshing, silver rivers; meadows were enameled with all sorts of eye-pleasing flowers; thickets lined with most pleasant shade were witnessed so too by the cheerful disposition of many well-tuned birds. In each pasture sheep fed in sober security, while pretty lambs with bleating oratory craved their dam’s comfort. Here a shepherd’s boy piped as though he should never grow old; there a young shepherdess sang and knit, and her voice seemed to comfort her hands, which in their work kept time to her voice’s music.