At length a shepheard, which thereby did keepe
His fleecie flocke upon the playnes around,
Led with the infant's cry, that loud did weepe,
Came to the place, where when he wrapped found
Th' abandond spoyle, he softly it unbound,
And seeing there that did him pittie sore,
He tooke it up, and in his mantle wound;
So home unto his honest wife it bore,
Who as her owne it nurst, and named evermore.
X.
Thus long continu'd Claribell a thrall,
And Bellamour in bands, till that her syre
Departed life, and left unto them all;
Then all the stormes of Fortune's former yre
Were turnd, and they to freedome did retyre :
Thenceforth they ioy'd in happinesse together,
And lived long in peace and love entyre,
Without disquiet or dislike of ether,
Till time that Calidore brought Pastorella thether.
XI.
Both whom thy goodly well did entertaine,
For Bellamour knew Calidore right well,
And loved for his prowesse, sith they twaine
Long since had fought in field; als Claribell
Ne lesse did tender the faire Pastorell,
Seeing her weake and wan through durance long:
There they awhile together thus did dwell
In much delight, and many ioyes among,
Untill the damzell gan to wex more sound and strong.
Tho gan Sir Calidore him to advize
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 reproachfull blame,
With foule dishonour, him mote blot therefore,
Besides the losse of so much prayse and fame,
As through the world thereby should glorifie his
XIII.
[name.
Therefore resolving to returne in hast
Unto so great atchievement, he bethought
To leave his love, now perill being past,
With Claribell, whylest he that monster sought
Throughout the world, and to destruction brought;
So taking leave 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.
XIV.
But first, ere I doe his adventures tell
In this exploite, me needeth to declare
What did betide to the faire Pastorell,
During his absence left in heavy care,
Through daily mourning and nightly misfare ;
Yet did that auncient matrone all she might,
To cherish her with all things choice and rare,
And her own handmayd, that Melissa hight,
Appointed to attend her dewly day and night.
Who in a morning, when this maiden faire
Was dighting her, having her snowy brest
As yet not laced, nor her golden haire
Into their comely tresses dewly drest,
Chaunst to espy upon her yvory 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.
XVI.
Which well avizing, 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 Fortune's spoile, unable it to ayd :
So full of ioy streight forth she ran in hast
Unto her mistresse, being halfe dismayd,
To tell her how the Heavens had her graste
To save her chylde, which in Misfortune's mouth was
The sober mother seeing such her mood,
Yet knowing not what meant that sodaine thro, Askt her how mote her words be understood, And what the matter was that mov'd her so? "My Liefe," said she, " ye know that long ygo, "Whilest ye in durance dwelt, ye to me gave "A little mayde, the which ye chylded tho; "The same againe if now ye list to have, [save." "The same is yonder lady, whom high God did
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 breast I with these eyes did vew "The litle purple rose which thereon grew, "Whereof her name ye then to her did give: "Besides, her countenaunce and her likely hew, "Matched with equall yeares, do surely prive "That yond same is your daughter sure, which yet XIX. [doth live." The matrone stayd no lenger to enquire, But forth in hast ran to the straunger mayd, Whom catching greedily for great desire, Rent up 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 livest thou, my Daughter! now againe ? "And art thou yet alive, whom dead I long did [fayne?"
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 events,
A thousand times she her embraced nere,
With many a ioyfull kisseand many a melting teare.
Whoever is the mother of one chylde,
Which having thought long dead she fyndes alive,
Let her by proofe of that which she hath fylde
In her own breast, this mother's ioy descrive;
For other none such passion can contrive
In perfect forme, as this good lady felt,
When she so faire a daughter saw survive,
As Pastorella was, that nigh she swelt
For passing ioy, which did all into pitty melt.
XXII.
Thence running forth unto her loved lord,
She unto him recounted all that fell;
Who ioyning ioy with her in one accord,
Acknowledg'd for his owne faire Pastorell.
There leave we them in ioy, and let us tell
Of Calidore, who seeking all this while
That monstrous Beast by finall force to quell,
Through every place, with restlesse paine and toile,
Him follow'd by the tract of his outragious spoile.
XXIII.
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 havocke, and such theft,
He wrought, that thence all goodnesse he bereft,
That endlesse were to tell. The Elfin knight,
Who now no place besides unsought had left,
At length into a monastere did light, [might.
Where he him found despoyling all with maine and
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