The Faerie Queene (94 page)

But askt againe, what ment that rufull hew:

Where was his
Pastorell
?
where all the other crew?

29
Ah well away (sayd he then sighing sore)

That euer I did liue, this day to see,

This dismall day, and was not dead before,

Before I saw faire
Pastorella
dye.

Die? out alas then
Calidore did
cry:

How could the death dare euer her to quell?

But read thou shepheard, read what destiny,

Or other dyrefull hap from heauen or hell

Hath wrought this wicked deed, doe feare away, and tell.

30
Tho when the shepheard breathed had a whyle,

He thus began: where shall I then commence

This wofull tale? or how those
Brigants
vyle,

With cruell rage and dreadfull violence

Spoyld all our cots, and caried vs from hence?

Or how faire
Pastorett
should haue bene sold

To marchants, but was sau'd with strong defence?

Or how those theeues, whilest one sought her to hold,

Fell all at ods, and fought through fury fierce and bold.

31
In that same conflict (woe is me) befell

This fatall chaunce, this dolefull accident,

Whose heauy tydings now I haue to tell.

First all the captiues, which they here had hent,

Were by them slaine by generall consent;

Old
Melibœ
and his good wife withall

These eyes saw die, and dearely did lament:

But when the lot to
Pastorell
did fall,

Their Captaine long withstood, & did her deam forstall..

32
But what could he gainst all them doe alone:

It could not boot; needs mote she die at last:

I onely scapt through great confusione

Of cryes and clamors, which amongst them past,

In dreadfull darknesse dreadfully aghast;

That better were with them to haue bene dead,

Then here to see all desolate and wast,

Despoyled of those ioyes and iolly head,

Which with those gentle shepherds here I wont to lead.

33
When
Calidore
these ruefull newes had raught,

His hart quite deaded was with anguish great,

And all his wits with doole were nigh distraught,

That he his face, his head, his brest did beat,

And death it selfe vnto himselfe did threat;

Oft cursing th'heauens, that so cruell were

To her, whose name he often did repeat;

And wishing oft, that he were present there,

When she was slaine, or had bene to her succour nere.

34
But after griefe awhile had had his course,

And spent it selfe in mourning, he at last

Began to mitigate his swelling sourse,

And in his mind with better reason cast,

How he might saue her life, if life did last;

Or if that dead, how he her death might wreake,

Sith otherwise he could not mend thing past;

Or if it to reuenge he were too weake,

Then for to die with her, and his liues threed to breake.

35
Tho
Coridon
he prayd, sith he well knew

The readie way vnto that theeuish wonne,

To wend with him, and be his conduct trew

Vnto the place, to see what should be donne.

But he, whose hart through feare was late fordonne,

Would not for ought be drawne to former drede,

But by all meanes the daunger knowne did shonne:

Yet
Calidore
so well him wrought with meed,

And faire bespoke with words, that he at last agreed.

36
So forth they goe together (God before)

Both clad in shepheards weeds agreeably,

And both with shepheards hookes: But
Calidore

Had vnderneath, him armed priuily.

Tho to the place when they approched nye,

They chaunst, vpon an hill not farre away,

Some flockes of sheepe and shepheards to espy;

To whom they both agreed to take their way,

In hope there newes to learne, how they mote best assay.

37
There did they find, that which they did not feare,

The selfe same flocks, the which those theeues had reft

From
Melibœ
and from themselues whyleare,

And certaine of the theeues there by them left,

The which for want of heards themselues then kept.

Right well knew
Coridon
his owne late sheepe,

And seeing them, for tender pittie wept:

But when he saw the theeues, which did them keepe

His hart gan fayle, albe he saw them all asleepe.

38
But
Calidore
recomforting his griefe,

Though not his feare: for nought may feare disswade;

Him hardly forward drew, whereas the thiefe

Lay sleeping soundly in the bushes shade,

Whom
Coridon
him counseld to inuade

Now all vnwares, and take the spoyle away;

But he, that in his mind had closely made

A further purpose, would not so them slay,

But gently waking them, gaue them the time of day.

39
Tho sitting downe by them vpon the greene,

Of sundrie things he purpose gan to faine;

That he by them might certaine tydings weene

Of
Pastorell,
were she aliue or slaine.

Mongst which the theeues them questioned againe,

What mister men, and eke from whence they were.

To whom they answer'd, as did appertaine,

That they were poore heardgroomes, the which whylere

Had from their maisters fled, & now sought hyre elswhere.

40
Whereof right glad they seem'd, and offer made

To hyre them well, if they their flockes would keepe:

For they themselues were euill groomes, they sayd,

Vnwont with heards to watch, or pasture sheepe,

But to forray the land, or scoure the deepe.

Thereto they soone agreed, and earnest tooke,

To keepe their flockes for litle hyre and chepe:

For they for better hyre did shortly looke,

So there all day they bode, till light the sky forsooke.

41
Tho when as towards darksome night it drew,

Vnto their hellish dens those theeues them brought,

Where shortly they in great acquaintance grew,

And all the secrets of their entrayles sought.

There did they find, contrarie to their thought,

That
Postorell
yet liu'd, but all the rest

Were dead, right so as
Condon
had taught:

Whereof they both full glad and blyth did rest,

But chiefly
Calidore,
whom griefe had most possest

42
At length when they occasion fittest found,

In dead of night, when all the theeues did rest

After a late forray, and slept full sound,

Sir
Calidore
him arm'd, as he thought best,

Hauing of late by diligent inquest,

Prouided him a sword of meanest sort:

With which he streight went to the Captaines nest.

But
Condon
durst not with him consort,

Ne durst abide behind, for dread of worse effort.

43
When to the Caue they came, they found it fast:

But
Calidore
with huge resistlesse might,

The dores assayled, and the locks vpbrast

With noyse whereof the theefe awaking light,

Vnto the entrance ran: where the bold knight

Encountring him with small resistance slew;

The whiles faire
Pastorell
through great affright

Was almost dead, misdoubting least of new

Some vprore were like that, which lately she did vew.

44
But when as
Calidore
was comen in,

And gan aloud for
Pastorell
to call,

Knowing his voice although not heard long sin,

She sudden was reuiued therewithall,

And wondrous ioy felt in her spirits thrall:

Like him that being long in tempest tost,

Looking each houre into deathes mouth to fall,

At length espyes at hand the happie cost,

On which he safety hopes, that earst feard to be lost

45
Her gentle hart, that now long season past

Had neuer ioyance felt, nor chearefull thought,

Began some smacke of comfort new to tast,

Like lyfull heat to nummed senses brought,

And life to feele, that long for death had sought;

Ne lesse in hart reioyced
Calidore,

When he her found, but like to one distraught

And robd of reason, towards her him bore,

A thousand times embrast, and kist a thousand more.

46
But now by this, with noyse of late vprore,

The hue and cry was raysed all about;

And all the
Brigants
flocking in great store,

Vnto the caue gan preasse, nought hauing dout

Of that was doen, and entred in a rout.

But
Calidore
in th'entry close did stand,

And entertayning them with courage stout,

Still slew the formost, that came first to hand,

So long till all the entry was with bodies mand.

47
Tho when no more could nigh to him approch,

He breath'd his sword, and rested him till day:

Which when he spyde vpon the earth t'encroch,

Through the dead carcases he made his way,

Mongst which he found a sword of better say,

With which he forth went into th'open light:

Where all the rest for him did readie stay,

And fierce assayling him, with all their might

Gan all vpon him lay: there gan a dreadfull fight.

48
How many flyes in whottest sommers day

Do seize vpon some beast, whose flesh is bare,

That all the place with swarmes do ouerlay,

And with their litle stings right felly fare;

So many theeues about him swarming are,

All which do him assayle on euery side,

And sore oppresse, ne any him doth spare:

But he doth with his raging brond diuide

Their thickest troups, & round about him scattreth wide.

49
Like as a Lion mongst an heard of dere,

Disperseth them to catch his choysest pray;

So did he fly amongst them here and there,

And all that nere him came, did hew and slay,

Till he had strowd with bodies all the way;

That none his daunger daring to abide,

Fled from his wrath, and did themselues conuay

Into their caues, their heads from death to hide,

Ne any left, that victorie to him enuide.

50
Then backe returning to his dearest deare,

He her gan to recomfort, all he might,

With gladfull speaches, and with louely cheare,

And forth her bringing to the ioyous light,

Whereof she long had lackt the wishfull sight,

Deuiz'd all goodly meanes, from her to driue

The sad remembrance of her wretched plight

So her vneath at last he did reuiue,

That long had lyen dead, and made againe aliue.

51
This doen, into those theeuish dens he went,

And thence did all the spoyles and threasures take,

Which they from many long had robd and rent,

But fortune now the victors meed did make;

Of which the best he did his loue betake;

And also all those flockes, which they before

Had reft from
Melibœ
and from his make,

He did them all to
Coridon
restore.

So droue them all away, and his loue with him bore.

Fayre Pastorella by great hap
   her parents understands,
Calidore doth the Blatant beast
   subdew, and bynd in bands.

1
Like as a ship, that through the Ocean wyde

Directs her course vnto one certaine cost,

Is met of many a counter winde and tyde,

With which her winged speed is let and crost,

And she her selfe in stormie surges tost;

Yet making many a borde, and many a bay,

Still winneth way, ne hath her compasse lost:

Right so it fares with me in this long way,

Whose course is often stayd, yet neuer is astray.

2
For all that hetherto hath long delayd

This gentle knight, from sewing his first quest,

Though out of course, yet hath not bene mis-sayd,

To shew the courtesie by him profest,

Euen vnto the lowest and the least.

But now I come into my course againe,

To his atchieuement of the
Blatant beast;

Who all this while at will did range and raine,

Whilst none was him to stop, nor none him to restraine.

3
Sir
Calidore
when thus he now had raught

Faire
Pastorella
from those
Brigants
powre,

Vnto the Castle of
Belgard
her brought,

Whereof was Lord the good Sir
Bellamoure;

Who whylome was in his youthes freshest flowre

A lustie knight, as euer wielded speare,

And had endured many a dreadfull stoure

In bloudy battell for a Ladie deare,

The fayrest Ladie then of all that liuing were.

4
Her name was
Claribell,
whose father hight

The Lord of
Many Ilands,
farre renound

For his great riches and his greater might.

He through the wealth, wherein he did abound,

This daughter thought in wedlocke to haue bound

Vnto the Prince of
Picteland
bordering nere,

But she whose sides before with secret wound

Of loue to
Bellamoure
empierced were,

By all meanes shund to match with any forrein fere.

5
And
Bellamour
againe so well her pleased,

With dayly seruice and attendance dew,

That of her loue he was entyrely seized,

And closely did her wed, but knowne to few.

Which when her father vnderstood, he grew

In so great rage, that them in dongeon deepe

Without compassion cruelly he threw;

Yet did so streightly them a sunder keepe,

That neither could to company of th'other creepe.

6
Nathlesse Sir
Bellamour,
whether through grace

Or secret guifts so with his keepers wrought,

That to his loue sometimes he came in place,

Whereof her wombe vnwist to wight was fraught,

And in dew time a mayden child forth brought.

Which she streight way for dread least, if her syre

Should know thereof, to slay he would haue sought,

Deliuered to her handmayd, that for hyre

She should it cause be fostred vnder straunge attyre.

7
The trustie damzell bearing it abrode

Into the emptie fields, where liuing wight

Mote not bewray the secret of her lode,

She forth gan lay vnto the open light

The litle babe, to take thereof a sight.

Whom whylest she did with watrie eyne behold,

Vpon the litle brest like christall bright,

She mote perceiue a litle purple mold,

That like a rose her silken leaues did faire vnfold.

8
Well she it markt, and pittied the more,

Yet could not remedie her wretched case,

But closing it againe like as before,

Bedeaw'd with teares there left it in the place:

Yet left not quite, but drew a litle space

Behind the bushes, where she her did hyde,

To weet what mortall hand, or heauens grace

Would for the wretched infants helpe prouyde,

For which it loudly cald, and pittifully cryde.

9
At length a Shepheard, which there by did keepe

His fleecie flocke vpon the playnes around,

Led with the infants cry, that loud did weepe,

Came to the place, where when he wrapped found

Th'abandond spoyle, he softly it vnbound,

And seeing there, that did him pittie sore,

He tooke it vp, and in his mantle wound;

So home vnto his honest wife it bore,

Who as her owne it nurst, and named euermore.

10
Thus long continu'd
Claribell
a thrall,

And
Bellamour
in bands, till that her syre

Departed life, and left vnto them all.

Then all the stormes of fortunes former yre

Were turnd, and they to freedome did retyre.

Thenceforth they ioy'd in happinesse together,

And liued long in peace and loue entyre,

Without disquiet or dislike of ether,

Till time that
Calidore
brought
Pastorella
thether.

11
Both whom they goodly well did entertaine;

For
Bellamour
knew
Calidore
right well,

And loued for his prowesse, sith they twaine

Long since had fought in field. Als
Claribell

No lesse did tender the faire
Pastorell,

Seeing her weake and wan, through durance long.

There they a while together thus did dwell

In much delight, and many ioyes among,

Vntill the damzell gan to wex more sound and strong.

12
Tho gan Sir
Calidore
him to aduize

Of his first quest, which he had long forlore,

Asham'd to thinke, how he that enterprize,

The which the Faery Queene had long afore

Bequeath'd to him, forslacked had so sore;

That much he feared, least reprochfull blame

With foule dishonour him mote blot therefore;

Besides the losse of so much loos and fame,

As through the world thereby should glorifie his name.

13
Therefore resoluing to returne in hast

Vnto so great atchieuement, he bethought

To leaue his loue, now perill being past,

With
Claribell,
whylest he that monster sought

Throughout the world, and to destruction brought

So taking leaue of his faire
Pastorell,

Whom to recomfort, all the meanes he wrought,

With thanks to
Bellamour
and
Claribell,

He went forth on his quest, and did, that him befell.

14
But first, ere I doe his aduentures tell,

In this exploite, me needeth to declare,

What did betide to the faire
Pastorell,

During his absence left in heauy care,

Through daily mourning, and nightly misfares

Yet did that auncient matrone all she might,

To cherish her with all things choice and rare;

And her owne handmayd, that
Melissa
hight,

Appointed to attend her dewly day and night.

15
Who in a morning, when this Mayden faire

Was dighting her, hauing her snowy brest

As yet not laced, nor her golden haire

Into their comely tresses dewly drest,

Chaunst to espy vpon her yuory chest

The rosie marke, which she remembred well

That litle Infant had, which forth she kest,

The daughter of her Lady
Claribell,

The which she bore, the whiles in prison she did dwell

16
Which well auizing, streight she gan to cast

In her conceiptfull mynd, that this faire Mayd

Was that same infant, which so long sith past

She in the open fields had loosely layd

To fortunes spoile, vnable it to ayd.

So full of ioy, streight forth she ran in hast

Vnto her mistresse, being halfe dismayd,

To tell her, how the heauens had her graste,

To saue her chylde, which in misfortunes mouth was plaste.

17
The sober mother seeing such her mood,

Yet knowing not, what meant that sodaine thro,

Askt her, how mote her words be vnderstood,

And what the matter was, that mou'd her so.

My liefe (sayd she) ye know, that long ygo,

Whilest ye in durance dwelt, ye to me gaue

A little mayde, the which ye chylded tho;

The same againe if now ye list to haue,

The same is yonder Lady, whom high God did saue.

18
Much was the Lady troubled at that speach,

And gan to question streight how she it knew.

Most certaine markes, (sayd she) do me it teach,

For on her brest I with these eyes did vew

The litle purple rose, which thereon grew,

Whereof her name ye then to her did giue.

Besides her countenaunce, and her likely hew,

Matched with equall yeares, do surely prieue

That yond same is your daughter sure, which yet doth liue.

19
The matrone stayd no lenger to enquire,

But forth in hast ran to the straunger Mayd;

Whom catching greedily for great desire,

Rent vp her brest, and bosome open layd,

In which that rose she plainely saw displayd.

Then her embracing twixt her armes twaine,

She long so held, and softly weeping sayd;

And liuest thou my daughter now againe?

And art thou yet aliue, whom dead I long did faine?

20
Tho further asking her of sundry things,

And times comparing with their accidents,

She found at last by very certaine signes,

And speaking markes of passed monuments,

That this young Mayd, whom chance to her presents

Is her owne daughter, her owne infant deare.

Tho wondring long at those so straunge euents,

A thousand times she her embraced nere,

With many a ioyfull kisse, and many a melting teare.

21
Who euer is the mother of one chylde,

Which hauing thought long dead, she fyndes aliue,

Let her by proofe of that, which she hath fylde

In her owne breast, this mothers ioy descriue:

For other none such passion can contriue

In perfect forme, as this good Lady felt,

When she so faire a daughter saw suruiue,

As
Pastorella
was, that nigh she swelt

For passing ioy, which did all into pitty melt

22
Thence running forth vnto her loued Lord,

She vnto him recounted, all that fell:

Who ioyning ioy with her in one accord,

Acknowledg'd for his own faire
Pastorell.

There leaue we them in ioy, and let vs tell

Of
Calidore,
who seeking all this while

That monstrous Beast by finall force to quell,

Through euery place, with restlesse paine and toile

Him follow'd, by the tract of his outragious spoile.

23
Through all estates he found that he had past,

In which he many massacres had left,

And to the Clergy now was come at last;

In which such spoile, such hauocke, and such theft

He wrought, that thence all goodnesse he bereft,

That endlesse were to tell. The Elfin Knight,

Who now no place besides vnsought. had left,

At length into a Monastere did light,

Where he him found despoyling all with maine & might

24
Into their cloysters now he broken had,

Through which the Monckes he chaced here & there,

And them pursu'd into their dortours sad,

And searched all their cels and secrets neare;

In which what filth and ordure did appeare,

Were yrkesome to report; yet that foule Beast

Nought sparing them, the more did tosse and teare,

And ransacke all their dennes from most to least,

Regarding nought religion, nor their holy heast.

25
From thence into the sacred Church he broke,

And robd the Chancell, and the deskes downe threw,

And Altars fouled, and blasphemy spoke,

And th'Images for all their goodly hew,

Did cast to ground, whilest none was them to rew;

So all confounded and disordered there.

But seeing
Calidore,
away he flew,

Knowing his fatall hand by former feare;

But he him fast pursuing, soone approched neare.

26
Him in a narrow place he ouertooke,

And fierce assailing forst him turne againe:

Sternely he turnd againe, when he him strooke

With his sharpe Steele, and ran at him amaine

With open mouth, that seemed to containe

A full good pecke within the vtmost brim,

All set with yron teeth in raunges twaine,

That terrifide his foes, and armed him,

Appearing like the mouth of
Orcus
griesly grim.

27
And therein were a thousand tongs empight,

Of sundry kindes, and sundry quality,

Some were of dogs, that barked day and night,

And some of cats, that wrawling still did cry:

And some of Beares, that groynd continually,

And some of Tygres, that did seeme to gren,

And snar at all, that euer passed by:

But most of them were tongues of mortall men,

Which spake reprochfully, not caring when.

28
And them amongst were mingled here and there,

The tongues of Serpents with three forked stings,

That spat out poyson and gore bloudy gere

At all, that came within his rauenings,

And spake licentious words, and hatefull things

Of good and bad alike, of low and hie;