When to the Cave they came, they found it fast;
But Calidore with huge resistlesse might
The dores assayled, and the locks upbrast:
With noyse whereof the theefe awaking light
Unto the entrance ran; where the bold knight
Encountring him with small resistence slew,
The whiles faire Pastorell through great affright
Was almost dead, misdoubting least of-new
Some uprore were like that which lately she did vew.
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 revived therewithall,
And wondrous joy 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.
Her gentle hart, that now long season past
Had never joyance 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 rejoyced 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.
But now by this, with noyse of late uprore,
The hue and cry was raysed all about;
And all the Brigants flocking in great store
Unto the cave gan preasse, nought having 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.
Tho, when no more could nigh to him approch,
He breath’d his sword, and rested him till day;
Which when he spyde upon 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 upon him lay: there gan a dreadfull fight.
How many flyes, in whottest sommers day,
Do seize upon some beast whose flesh is bare,
That all the place with swarmes do overlay,
And with their litle stings right felly fare;
So many theeves about him swarming are,
All which do him assayle on every side,
And sore oppresse, ne any him doth spare;
But he doth with his raging brond divide
Their thickest troups, and round about him scattreth wide.
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 themselves convay
Into their caves, their heads from death to hide,
Ne any left that victorie to him envide.
Then, backe returning to his dearest deare,
He her gah to recomfort all he might
With gladfull speaches and with lovely cheare;
And forth her bringing to the joyous light,
Whereof she long had lackt the wishfull sight,
Deviz’d all goodly meanes from her to drive
The sad remembrance of her wretched plight:
So her uneath at last he did revive
That long had lyen dead, and made again alive.
This doen, into those theevish 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 love betake;
And also all those flockes, which they before
Had reft from Melibce and from his make,
He did them all to Coridon restore:
So drove them all away, and his love with him bore.
Canto XII
Fayre Pastorella by great hap
Her parents understands.
Calidore doth the Blatant Beast
Subdew, and bind in bands.
Like as a ship, that through the Ocean wyde
Directs her course unto 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 horde 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 never is astray.
For all that hetherto hath long delayd
This gentle knight from sewing his first quest,
Though out of course, yet hath not bene missayd,
To shew the courtesie by him profest
Even unto the lowest and the least.
But now I come into my course againe,
To his atchievement 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.
Sir Calidore, when thus he now had raught
Faire Pastorella from those Brigants powre,
Unto 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 ever wielded speare,
And had endured many a dreadfull stoure
In bloudy battell for a Ladie deare,
The fayrest Ladie then of all that living were:
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 have bound
Unto the Prince of Picteland, bordering nere;
But she, whose sides before with secret wound
Of love to Bellamoure empierced were,
By all meanes shund to match with any forrein fere.
And Bellamour againe so well her pleased
With dayly service and attendance dew,
That of her love he was entyrely seized,
And closely did her wed, but knowne to few:
Which when her father understood, he grew
In so great rage that them in dongeon deepe
Without compassion cruelly he threw;
Yet did so streightly them asunder keepe,
That neither could
