All sodainely out of the forrest nere
The Blatant Beast forth rushing unaware,
Caught her thus loosely wandring here and there,
And in his wide great mouth away her bare,
Crying aloud to shew her sad misfare
Unto the knights, and calling oft for ayde;
Who with the horrour of her haplesse care
Hastily starting up, like men dismayde,
Ran after fast to reskue the distressed mayde.
XXV.
The beast with their pursuit incited more,
Into the wood was bearing her apace
For to have spoyled her, when Calidore,
Who was more light of foote and swift in chace,
Him overtooke in middest of his race,
And fiercely charging him with all his might,
Forst to forgoe his pray there in the place,
And to betake himselfe to fearefull flight,
For he durst not abide with Calidore to fight.
XXVI.
Who nathelesse when he the lady saw
There left on ground, though in full evill plight,
Yet knowing that her knight now neare did draw,
Staide not to succour her in that affright,
But follow'd fast the monster in his flight :
Through woods and hils he follow'd him so fast,
That he nould let him breath nor gather spright,
But forst him gape and gaspe, with dread aghast,
As if his lungs and lites were nigh asunder brast.
And now by this Sir Calepine, so hight,
Came to the place where he his lady found
In dolorous dismay and deadly plight,
All in gore bloud there tumbled on the ground,
Having both sides through grypt with griesly wound:
His weapons soone from him he threw away,
And stouping downe to her in drery swound,
Uprear'd her from the ground whereon she lay,
And in his tender armes her forced up to stay.
XXVIII.
So well he did his busie paines apply,
That the faint spright he did revoke againe
To her fraile mansion of mortality;
Then up he tooke her twixt his armes twaine,
And setting on his steede, her did sustaine
With carefull hands, soft footing her beside,
Till to some place of rest they mote attaine,
Where she in safe assuraunce mote abide,
Till she recured were of those her woundes wide.
XXIX.
Now whenas Phoebus with his fiery waine
Unto his inne began to draw apace,
Tho wexing weary of that toylesome painé
In travelling on foote so long a space,
Not won't on foote with heavy armes to trace,
Downe in a dale forby a river's syde
He chaunst to spie a faire and stately place,
To which he ment his weary steps to guyde,
In hope there for his love some succour to provyde:
But comming to the river's side, he found
That hardly passable on foote it was,
Therefore there still he stood as in a stound,
Ne wist which way he through the foord mote pas :
Thus whilest he was in this distressed case,
Devising what to doe, he nigh espyde
An armed knight approaching to the place,
With a faire lady lincked by his syde,
The which themselves prepard thorough the foord to XXXI.
Whom Calepine saluting, as became, Besought of courtesie in that his neede (For safe conducting of his sickely dame Through that same perillous foord with better heede) To take him up behinde upon his steed; To whom that other did this taunt returne: "Perdy, thou peasant knight mightst rightly reed "Me then to be full base and evill borne,
"If I would beare behinde a burden of such scorne: XXXII.
"But as thou hast thy steed forlorne with shame, "So fare on foote till thou another gayne, "And let thy lady likewise doe the same, "Or beare her on thy backe with pleasing payne, "And prove thy manhood on the billowes vayne." With which rude speach his lady much displeased Did him reprove, yet could him not restrayne, And would on her own palfrey him have eased For pitty of his dame, whom she saw so diseased. Volume V.
Sir Calepine her thanckt, yet inly wroth
Against her knight, her gentlenesse refused,
And carelesly into the river goth,
As in despight to be so fowle abused
Of a rude churle, whom often he accused
Of fowle discourtesie, unfit for knight;
And strongly wading through the waves unused,
With speare in th` one hand, stayd himselfe upright,
With th' other staide his lady up with steddy might.
XXXIV.
And all the while that same discourteous knight
Stood on the further bancke beholding him ;
At whose calamity, for more despight,
He laught, and mockt to see him like to swim;
But whenas Calepine came to the brim,
And saw his carriage past that perill well,
Looking at that same carle with count'nance grim,
His heart with vengeaunce inwardly did swell,
And forth at last did breake in speaches sharpe and
[fell: "Unknightly Knight, the blemish of that name, "And blot of all that armes uppon them take, "That is the badge of honour and of fame, "Lo I defie thee, and here challenge make, "That thou for ever doe those armes forsake, "And be for ever held a recreant knight, "Unlesse thou dare, for thy deare ladies sake, " And for thine owne defence, on foote alight, "Toiustifie thy fault gainst me in equall fight.”
The dastard, that did heare himselfe defyde,
Seem'd not to weigh his threatfull words at all,
But laught them out, as if his greater pryde
Did scorne the challenge of so base a thrall,
Or had no courage, or else had no gall:
So much the more was Calepine offended,
That him to no revenge he forth could call,
But both his challenge and himselfe contemned,
Ne cared as a coward so to be condemned.
But he nought weighing what he sayd or did,
Turned his steede about another way,
And with his lady to the castle rid
Where was his won; ne did the other stay,
But after went directly as he may,
For his sicke charge some harbour there to seeke; Where he arriving with the fall of day,
Drew to the gate, and there with prayers meeke,
And myld entreaty, lodging for her did beseeke.
XXXVIII.
But the rude porter, that no manners had,
Did shut the gate against him in his face,
And entraunce boldly unto him forbad;
Nathelesse the knight, now in so needy case,
Gan him entreat even with submission base,
And humbly praid to let them in that night;
Who to him aunswer'd, that there was no place
Of lodging fit for any errant knight,
Unlesse that with his lord he formerly did fight.
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