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In these wylde deserts, where she now abode, Her yvorie neck; her alablaster brest;
There dwelt a salvage nation, which did live Her paps, which like white silken pillowes were
Of stealth and spoile, and making nightly rode For Love in soft delight thereon to rest;
Into their neighbours borders; ne did give Her tender sides; her bellie white and clere,
Themselves to any trade, (as for to drive

Which like an altar did itselfe uprere
The painefull plough, or cattell for to breed, To offer sacrifice divine thereon;
Or by adventrous merchandize to thrive,) Her goodly thighes, whose glorie did appeare
But on the labours of poor men to feed,

Like a triumphall arch, and thereupon (won. And serve their owne necessities with others need. The spoiles of princes hang'd which were in battel Thereto they usde one most accursed order, Those daintie parts, the dearlings of delight, To eate the flesh of men, whom they mote fynde, Which mote not be prophan’d of common eyes, And straungers to devoure, which on their border Those villeins vewid with loose lascivious sight, Were brought by errour or by wreckfull wynde: And closely tempted with their craftie spyes; A monstrous cruelty gainst course of kynde ! And some of them gan mongst themselves devize They, towards evening wandering every way Thereof by force to take their beastly pleasure: To seeke for booty, came by fortune blynde But them the priest rebuking did advize Whereas this lady, like a sheepe astray,

To dare not to pollute so sacred threasure (measure. Now drowned in the depth of sleepe all fearlesse lay. Pow'd to the gods: Religion held even theeves in Soone as they spide her, Lord! what gladfull glee So, being stayd, they her from thence directed They made amongst themselves! but when her face Cnto a litle grove not farre asyde, Like the faire yvory shining they did see,

In which an altar shortly they erected Fach gan his fellow solace and embrace

To slay her on. And now the Eventyde For ioy of such good hap by heavenly grace. His brode black wings had through the Heavens wyde Then gan they to devize what course to take; By this dispred, that was the tyme ordayned Whether to slay her there upon the place, For such a dismall deed, their guilt to hyde: Or suffer her out of her sleepe to wake,

Of few greene turfes an altar soone they fayned, And then her eate attonce, or many meales to make. And deckt it all with flowres which they nigh hand

obtayned. The best advizement was, of bad, to let her Sleepe out her fill without encomberment;

Tho, whenas all things readie were aright, For sleepe, they sayd, would make her battill better: The damzell was before the altar set, Then, when she wakt, they all gave one consent Being alreadie dead with fearefull fright: That, since by grace of god she there was sent, To whom the priest with naked armes full net Unto their god they would her sacrifize,

Approcbing nigh, and murdrous knife well whet, Whose share, ber guiltlesse bloud they would present: Gan mutter close a certain secret charme, But of her dainty flesh they did devize

With other divelish ceremonies met: To make a common feast, and feed with gurmandize. Which doen, he gan aloft t’advance his arme,

Whereat they shouted all, and made a loud alarme. So round about her tbey themselves did place Upon the grasse, and diversely dispose,

Then gan the bagpypes and the bornes to shrill As each thought best to spend the lingring space:

And skrieke aloud, that, with the peoples voyce Some with their eyes the daintest morsels chose; Confused, did the ayre with terror fill, Some praise ber paps; some praise her lips and nose; And made the wood to tremble at the noyce: Some whet their knives, and strip their elboes bare: The whyles she wayld, the more they did reioyce. The priest himselfe a garland doth compose Now mete ye understand that to this grove Of finest flowers, and with full busie care

Sir Calepine, by chaunce more then by choyce, His bloudy vessels wash and holy fire prepare. The selfe same evening fortune hether drove,

As he to seeke Serena through the woods did rove. The damzell wakes; then all attonce upstart, And round about her flocke, like many flies, Long bad he sought her, and through many a soyle Whooping and hallowing on every part,

Had traveld still on foot in heavie armes, As if they would have rent the brasen skies. Ne onght was tyred with his endlesse toyle, Which when she sees with ghastly griefful eies, Ne ought was feared of his certaine barmes: Her heart does quake, and deadly pallid hew And now, all weetlesse of the wretched stormes Benumbes her cheekes : then out aloud she cries, In which his love was lost, he slept full fast; Where none is nigh to heare, that will her rew, Till, being waked with these loud alarmes, And rends her golden locks, and snowy brests em- He lightly started up like one aghast, (past. brew.

And catching up his arms streight to the noise forth
But all bootes not; they bands upon her lay: There by th' uncertaine glims of starry night,
And first they spoile her of her iewels deare, And by the twinkling of their sacred fire,
And afterwards of all her rich array;

He mote perceive a litle dawning sight
The which amongst them they in peeces teare, Of all which there was doing in that quire :
And of the pray each one a part doth beare. Mongst whom a woman spoyled of all attire
Now being naked, to their sordid eyes

He spyde lamenting ber unluckie strife,
The goodly threasures of nature appeare:

And groning sore from grieved hart entire: Which as they view with lustfull fantasyes, Eftsoones he saw one with a naked knife Each wisheth to himselfe, and to the rest envyes. Readie to launch her brest, and let out loved life.

With that he thrusts into the thickest throng; From thence into the open fields he fled,
And, even as his right hand adowne descends, Whereas the heardes were keeping of their neat,
He him preventing lays on earth along,

And shepheards singing, to their flockes that fed, And sacrifizeth to th' infernall feends:

Layes of sweet love and youthes delightfull heat: Then to the rest his wratbfull hand he bends; Him thether eke for all his fearefull threat Of whom he makes such havocke and such hew, He followed fast, and chaced him so nie, That swar.nes of damned soules to Hell he sends : That to the folds, where sheepe at night doe seat, The rest, that scape his sword and death eschew, And to the litle cots, where shepherds lie Fly like a flocke of doves before a faulcons vew. In winters wrathfull time, he forced him to flie. From them returning to that ladie backe,

There on a day, as he pursew'd the chace, Whom by the altar he doth sitting find

He chaunst to spy a sort of shepheard groomes Yet fearing death, and next to death the lacke Playing on pypes and caroling apace, Of clothes to cover what she ought by kind; The whyles their beasts there in the budded broomes He first her hands beginneth to unbind,

Beside them fed, and nipt the tender bloomes; And then to question of her present woe;

For other worldly wealth they cared nought: And afterwards to cheare with speaches kind : To whom sir Calidore yet sweating comes, But she, for noaght that he could say or doe, And them to tell him courteously besought, One word durst speake, or answere him a whit If such a beast they saw, which he had thether thereto.

brought. So inward shame of her uncomely case

They answer'd him that no such beast they saw, She did conceive, through care of womanhood,

Nor any wicked feend that mote offend That though the night did cover her disgrace,

Their happie flockes, nor daunger to them draw; Yet sbe in so unwomanly a mood

But if that such there were (as none they kend) Would not bewray the state in which she stood:

They prayd high Goil them farre from them to send : So all that night to him unknown she past :

Then one of the him seeing so to sweat, But day, that doth discover bad and good,

After his rusticke wise, tbat well he weend, Ensewing, made her knowen to him at last:

Offred him drinke to quench his thirstie heat, The end whereof ile keepe untill another cast. And, if he hungry were, him offred eke to eat.

The knight was nothing nice, where was no need,

And tooke their gentle offer: so adowne
CANTO IX.

They prayd him

sit, and gave him for to feed

Such homely what as serves the simple clowne,
Calidore hostes with Melibee,

That doth despise the dainties of the towne:
And loves fayre Pastorell :

Tho, having fed his fill, he there besyde
Coridon envies him, yet he,

Saw a faire damzell, which did weare a crowne
For ill, rewards him well.

Of sundry flowres with silken ribbands tyde, Now turne againe my teme, thou jolly swayne,

Yclad in hoine-made greene that her owne hands Backe to the furrow which I lately left;

had dyde. I lately left a furrow one or twayne

Upon a litle hillocke she was placed Unplough’d, the which my coulter had not cleft;

Higher then all the rest, and round about Yet seum'd the soyle both fayre and frutefull eft,

Environ'd with a girland, goodly graced, As I it past; that were too great a shame,

Of lovely lasses; and them all without That so rich frute should be from us bereft;

The lustie shepheard swaynes sate in a rout, Besides the great dishonour and defame,

The which did pype and sing her prayses dew, Which should befall to Calidores immortall name.

And oft reioyce, and oft for wonder shout,

As if some miracle of heavenly hew Great travell hath the gentle Calidore

Were downe to them descended in that earthly vew. And toyle endured, sith I left him last Sewing the Blatant Beast; which I forbore And soothly sure she was full fayre of face, To finish then, for other present hast.

And perfectly well shapt in every lim, Full many pathes and perils he hath past,

Which she did more augment with modest grace Through hils, through dales, throngh forests, and And comely carriage of her count'nance trim, through plaines,

That all the rest like lesser lamps did dim:
In that same quest which fortune on him cast, Who, her adıniring as some heavenly wight,
Which he atchieved to his owne great gaines, Did for their soveraine goddesse her esteeme,
Reaping eternall glorie of his restlesse paines. And, caroling her name both day and nigh

The fayrest Pastorella her by name did hight.
So sharply he the monster did pursew,
That day nor night he suffred him to rest,

Ne was there heard, ne was there shepheards swayne, Ne rested he himselfe (but natures dew)

But her did honour; and eke many a one For dread of daunger not to be redrest,

Burnt in her love, and with sweet pleasing payne If he for slouth forslackt so famous quest.

Full many a night for her did sigh and grone: Him first from court he to the citties coursed, But most of all the shepheard Coridon And from the citties to the townes him prest, For her did languish, and his deare life spend; And from the townes into the countrie forsed, Yet neither she for hiin nor other none And from the country back to private farmes he Did care a whit, ne any liking lend: (ascend. scorsed.

Though meane her lot, yet higher did her mind

Her whyles sir Calidore there vewed well, Tho when they had their hunger slaked well,
And markt her rare demeanure, which him seemed | And the fayre mayd the table ta'ne away;
So farre the meane of shepheards to excell, The gentle knight, as he that did excell
As that he in his mind her worthy deemed In courtesie and well could doe and say,
To be a princes paragone esteemed,

For so great kindnesse as he fouud that day
He was unwares surprisd in subtile bands

Gan greatly thanke his host and his good wife: Of the blynd boy; de thence could be redeemed And, drawing thence his speach another way, By any skill out of his cruell hands; (stands. Gan highly to commend the happie life (strife. Caught like the bird which gazing still on others which shepheards lead, without debate or bitter So stood he still long gazing thereupon,

" How much,” sayd he, "more happie is the state Ne any will had thence to move away,

In which ye, father, here doe dwell at ease,
Although his quest were farre afore him gon: Leading a life so free and fortunate
But after he had fed, yet did he stay

From all the tempests of these worldly seas,
And sate there still, untill the flying day

Which tosse the rest in daungerous disease; Was farre forth spent, discoursing diversly Where warres, and wreckes, and wicked enmitic Of sundry things, as fell, to worke delay;

Doe them afflict, which no man can appease! And evermore his speach he did apply [tazy. That certes I your happinesse envie, To th' heards, but meant them to the damzels fan- | And wish my lot were plast in such felicitie!" By this the moystie Night approching fast “ Surely, my sonne," then answer'd he againe, Her deawy hunour gan on th' earth to shed, If happie; then it is in this intent, That warn'd the shepheards to their homes to hast That having small yet doe I not complaine Their tender flocks, now being fully fed,

Of want, ne wish for more it to augment, For feare of wetting them before their bed: But doe myselfe, with that I have, content; Then came to them a good old aged syre,

So taught of nature, which doth litle nced Whose silver lockes bedeckt his beard and hed, Of forreine helpes to lifes due nourishment : With shepheards hooke in hand, and fit attyre, The fields my food, my flocke my rayment breed; That wild the damzell rise; the day did now expyre. No better doe I weare, no better doe I feed. He was to weet, by common voice, esteemed

“ Therefore I doe not any one envy, The father of the fayrest Pastorell,

Nor am envyde of any one therefore; And of herselfe in very deede so deemed;

They, that have much, feare much to loose thereby, Yet was not so; but, as old stories tell,

And store of cares doth follow riches store. Found her by fortune, which to him befell,

The litle that I have growes dayly more In th' open fields an infant left alone;

Without my care, but onely to attend it; And, taking up, brought home and noursed well My lambes doe every yeare increase their score, As his owne chyld; for other he had none; And my flockes father daily doth amend it. That sbe in tract of time accompted was his owne.

What have I, but to praise th' Almighty that doth

send it ! She at his bidding meekely did arise, And streight unto her litle flocke did fare:

To them, that list, the worlds gay showes I leave, Then all the rest about her rose likewise,

And to great ones such follies doe forgive;

Which oft through pride do their owne perill weave, And each bis sundrie sheepe with severall care Gathered together, and them bomeward bare:

And through ambition downe themselves doe drive Whylest everie one with belping hands did strive

To sad decay, that might contented live. Amongst themselves, and did their labours share,

Me no such cares nor combrous thoughts offend,

Ne once my minds unmoved quiet grieve ;
To helpe faire Pastorella home to drive
Her fleecie flocke; but Coridon most helpe did give. And all the day, to what I list, I doe attend.

But all the night in silver sleepe I spend,
But Melibee (so hight that good old man)

“ Sometimes I hunt the fox, the vowed foe Now seeing Calidore left all alone,

Unto my lambes, and him dislodge away; And night arrived hard at hand, began

Sometime the fawne I practise from the doe,
Him to invite unto his simple home;

Or from the goat her kidde, how to convay;
Which though it were a cottage clad with lome, Auother while I baytes and nets display
And all things therein meane, yet better so The birds to catch or fishes to beguyle;
To lodge then in the salvage fields to rome.

And, when I wearie am, I downe doe lay
The knight full gladly soone agreed thereto, My limbes in every shade to rest from toyle;
Being his harts owne wish; and home with him did | And drinke of every brooke, when thirst my throte
go.

doth boyle. There he was welcom'd of that honest wyre “ The time was once, in my first prime of yeares, And of his aged beldame homely well;

When pride of youth forth pricked my desire, Who bim besought himselfe to disattyre,

That I disdain'd amongst mine equall peares And rest himselfe, till supper time befell; To follow sheepe and shepheards base attire ; By which home came the fayrest Pastorell, For further fortune then I would inquire: After her flocke she in their fold had tyde:

And, leaving home, to roiall court I sought, And, supper readie dight, they to it fell

Where I did sell myselfe for yearely hire, With small adoe, and nature satisfyde.

And in the princes gardin daily wrought: The which doth litle crave contented to abyde. There I beheld sueh vainenessé as I never thought. “ With sight whereof soone cloyd, and long deluded “ Not that the burden of so bold a guest With idle hopes which them doe entertaine, Shall chargefull be, or chaunge to you at all; After I had ten yeares myselfe excluded

For your meane food shall be my daily feast, From native home, and spent my youth in vaine, And this your cabin both my bowre and hall: I gan my follies to myselfe to plaine,

Besides, for recompence hereof, I shall And this sweet peace, whosdlacke did then appeare: You well reward, and golden guerdon give, Tho, backe returning to my sheepe againe, That may perhaps you better much withall, I from thenceforth have learn’d to love more dcare And in this quiet make you safer live.” [drive. This lowly quiet life which I inherite here." Su forth he drew much gold, and toward him it Whylest thus he talkt, the knight with greedy care But the good man, nought tempted with the offer Hong still upon his melting mouth attent;

Of his rich mould, did thrust it farre away, Whose sensefull words empierst his hart so neare, And thus bespake; “ Sir Knight, your bounteous That he was wrapt with double ravishment, Be farre fru me, to whom ye ill display tproffer Both of his speach that wrought him great content, That mucky masse, the cause of mens decay, And also of the obiect of bis vew,

That mote empaire my peace with daungers dread: On which his hungry eye was alwayes bent; But, if ye algates covet to assay That twixt his pleasing tongue, and her faire hew, This simple sort of life that shepheards lead, He lost himselfe, and like one halfe-entraunced grew. Be it your owne: our rudenesse to yourselfe aread." Yet to occasion meanes to worke his mind,

So there that night sir Calidore did dwell, And to insinuate bis harts desire,

And long while after, whilest him list remaine, He thus replyde; “ Now surely, syre, I find, Daily beholding the faire Pastorell, That all this worlds gay showes, which we admire, And feeding on the bayt of his owne bane: Be but vaine shadows to this safe retyre

During which time he did her entertaine Of life, which here in lowlinesse ye lead,

With all kind courtesies he could invent; Fearelesse of foes, or fortunes wrackfull yre, And every day, her companie to gaine, Which tosseth states, and under foot doth tread When to the field she went, he with her went: The mightie ones affrayd of every chaunges dred. So for to quench his fire he did it more augment. “ That even I, which daily doe behold

But she that never had acqnainted beene The glorie of the great mongst whom I won, With such quient usage, fit for queens and kings, And now have prov'd what happinesse ye hold Ne ever had such knightly service seene; In this small plot of your dominion,

But, being bred under base shepheards wings, Now loath great lordship and ambition;

Had ever learn'd to love the lowly things ; And wish the Heavens so much had graced mee, Did litle wbit regard his courteous guize, As graunt me live in like condition ;

But cared more for Colins carolings Or that my fortunes might transposed bee

Then all that he could doe, or e'er devize; (spize. From pitch of higher place unto this low degree.” His layes, his loves, his lookes, she did them all de" In vaine," said then old Melibee, “ doe men Which Calidore perceiving, thought it best The Heavens of their fortunes fault accuse; To chaunge the manner of his loftie looke; Sith they know best what is the best for them: And doffing bis bright armes himselfe addrest For they to each such fortune doe diffuse,

In shepheards weed; and in his hand he tooke, As they doe know each can most aptly use. Instead of steele-head speare, a shepheards hooke; For not that, which men covet most, is best;

That who had seene him then, would have bethought Nor that thing worst, which men do most refuse; On Phrygian Paris by Plexippus brooke, But fittest is, that all contented rest

When he the love of fayre Benone sought, With that they hold: each hath his fortune in his What time the golden apple was unto him brought. brest.

So being clad unto the fields he went “ It is the mynd, that maketh good or ill, With the faire Pastorella every day, That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore : And kept her sheepe with diligent attent, For some, that hath abundance at his will, Watching to drive the ravenous wolfe away, Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store; The whylest at pleasure she mote sport and play; And other, that hath litle, asks no inore,

And every evening helping them to fold: But in that litle is both rich and wise;

And otherwhiles, for need, he did assay For wisedome is most riches: fooles therefore Io his strong hand their rugged teats to hold, They are, which fortunes doe by vowes devize; And out of them to presse the milke; love so much Sith each unto himselfe his life may fortunize.”

could. “ Since then in each mans self,” said Calidore, Which seeing Corridon, who her likewise “ It is to fashion his owne lyfes estate,

Long time bad lov'd, and hop'd her love to gaine, Give leave awhyle, good father, in this shore He much was troubled at that straungers guize, To rest my barcke, which hath bene beaten late And many gealous thoughts conceiv'd in vaine, With stormes of fortune and tempestuous fate. That this of all his labour and long paine In seas of troubles and of toy lesome paine; Should reap the harvest ere it ripened were; That, whether quite from them for to retrate That made him scoule, and pout, and oft complaine I shall resolve or backe to turne againe,

Of Pastorell to all the shepheards there, (dere. I may here with yourselfe some small repose obtaine. That she did love a stranger swayne then him more And ever, when he came in companie

Thus Calidore continu'd there long time Where Calidore was present, he would loure To winne the love of the faire Pastorell; And byte his lip, and even for gealousie

Which having got, he used without crime Was readie oft his owne hart to devoure,

Or blamefull blot; but menaged so well, Impatient of any paramoure:

That be, of all the rest which there did dwell, Who on the other side did seeme so farre

Was favoured and to her grace commended :
From malicing, or grudging his good houre, But what straunge fortunes unto him befell,
That, all he could, he graced him with her, Ere he attain'd the point by him intended,
Ne ever shewed signe of rancour or of iarre. Shall more conveniently in other place be ended.
And oft, when Coridon unto her brought
Or litle sparrowes stolen from their nest,
Or wanton squirrels in the woods farre sought,

CANTO X.
Or other daintje thing for her addrest,
He would commend his guift, and make the best : Calidore sees the Graces daunce
Yet she no whit his presents did regard,

To Colius melody :
Ne him could find to fancie in her brest :

The whiles his Pastorell is led This new-come shepheard had his market mard.

Into captivity. Old love is litie worth when new is more prefard.

Who now does follow the foule Blatant Beast, One day, whenas the shepheard swaynes together Whilest Calidore does follow that faire mayd, Were' met to make their sports and merrie glee, l'nmyndfull of his vow, and high beheast As they are wont in faire sunshynie weather, Which by the facry queene was on him layd, The whiles their flockes in shadowes shrouded bee; That he should never leave, nor be delayd They fell to daunce: then did they all agree From chacing him, till he had it attchieved ? That Colin Clout should pipe, as one most fit; But now, entrapt of love which hin betrayd, And Calidore should lead the ring, as hee

He mindeth more how he may be relieved That most in Pastorellaes grace did sit :

With grace from ber, whose love his heart bath sore Thereat frown'd Coridon, and his lip closely bit.

engrieved. But Calidore, of courteous inclination,

That from henceforth be meanes no more to sew Tooke Coridon and set him in his place, That he should lead the daunce, as was his fashion; Another quest, another game in vew

His former quest, so full of toile and paine; For Coridon could daunce, and trimly trace;

He hath, the guerdon of his love to gaine ; And whenas Pastorella, him to grace,

With whom he myndes for ever to remaine, Her flowry garlond tooke from her owne head,

And set his rest amongst the rusticke sort, And plast on his, he did it soone displace,

Rather then hunt still after shadowes vaine And did it put on Coridons instead :

Of courtly favour fed with light report Then Coridon woxe frollicke, that earst seemed dead. Of every blast, and sayling alwaies in the port. Another time, whenas they did dispose To practise games and maisteries to try,

Ne certes mote he greatly blamed be They for their judge did Pastorella chose;

From so high step to stoupe unto so low; A garland was the meed of victory :

For who had tasted once, as oft did he, There Coridon, forth stepping, openly

The happy peace which there doth overflow, Did chalenge Calidore to wrestling game;

And prov'd the perfect pleasures which doe grow For he, through long and perfect industry,

Amongst poore hyndes, in hils, in woods, in dales; Therein well practisd was, and in the same

Would never more delight in painted show Thought sure t’avenge his grudge, and worke his of such false blisse, as there is set for stales foe great shame.

T'entrap unwary fooles in their eternall bales. But Calidore he greatly did mistake;

For what hath all that goodly glorious gaze For he was strong and mightily stiffe pight, Like to one sight which Calidore did vew ? That with one fall his necke he almost brake; The glaunce whereof their dimined ejes would daze, And, had he not upon him fallen light,

That never more they should endure the shew His dearest joynt he sure had broken quight. Ofthat shunne-shine, that makes them looke askew: Then was the oaken crowne by Pastorell

Ne ought, in all that world of beanties rare, Given to Calidore as his due right;

(Save onely Glorianaes heavenly hew, Bat he, that did in courtesie excell,

To which what can compare ?) can it compare; Gave it to Coridon, and said he wonne it well. The which, as commeth now by course, I will de

clare.
Thus did the gentle knight himselfe abeare
Amongst that rusticke rout in all his deeds, One day, as he did raunge the fields abroad,
That even they, the which his rivals were,

Whilest his faire Pastorella was elsewhere, Could not maligne him, but commend him needs: He chaunst to come, far from all peoples troad, For courtesie amongst the rudest breeds

Unto a place, whose pleasaunce did appere
Good will and favour : so it surely wrought To passe all others on the Earth which were:
With this faire mayd, and in her mynde the seeds for all that ever was by Natures skill
Of perfect love did sow, that last forth brought Deviz'd to worke delight was gathered there;
The fruite of ioy and blisse, though long timedearely And there by her were poured forth at fill,
bought

As if, this to adorne, she all the rest did pill.

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