The Faerie Queene

  These marchants fixed eyes did so amaze,

  That what through wonder, & what through delight,

  A while on her they greedily did gaze,

  And did her greatly like, and did her greatly praize.

  14 At last when all the rest them offred were,

  And prises to them placed at their pleasure,

  They all refused in regard of her,

  Ne ought would buy, how euer prisd with measure,

  Withouten her, whose worth aboue all threasure

  They did esteeme, and offred store of gold.

  But then the Captaine fraught with more displeasure,

  Bad them be still, his loue should not be sold:

  The rest take if they would, he her to him would hold.

  15 Therewith some other of the chiefest theeues

  Boldly him bad such iniurie forbeare;

  For that same mayd, how euer it him greeues,

  Should with the rest be sold before him theare,

  To make the prises of the rest more deare.

  That with great rage he stoutly doth denay;

  And fiercely drawing forth his blade, doth sweare,

  That who so hardie hand on her doth lay,

  It dearely shall aby, and death for handsell pay.

  16 Thus as they words amongst them multiply,

  They fall to strokes, the frute of too much talke,

  And the mad Steele about doth fiercely fly,

  Not sparing wight, ne leauing any balke,

  But making way for death at large to walke:

  Who in the horror of the griesly night,

  In thousand dreadful shapes doth mongst them stalke,

  And makes huge hauocke, whiles the candlelight

  Out quenched, leaues no skill nor difference of wight.

  17 Like as a sort of hungry dogs ymet

  About some carcase by the common way,

  Doe fall together, stryuing each to get

  The greatest portion of the greedie pray;

  All on confused heapes themselues assay,

  And snatch, and byte, and rend, and tug, and teare;

  That who them sees, would wonder at their fray,

  And who sees not, would be affrayd to heare.

  Such was the conflict of those cruell Brigants there.

  18 But first of all, their captiues they doe kill,

  Least they should ioyne against the weaker side,

  Or rise against the remnant at their will;

  Old Melibce is shine, and him beside

  His aged wife, with many others wide,

  But Coridon escaping craftily,

  Creepes forth of dores, whilst darknes him doth hide,

  And flyes away as fast as he can hye,

  Ne stayeth leaue to take, before his friends doe dye.

  19 But Pastorella, wofull wretched Elfe,

  Was by the Captaine all this while defended,

  Who minding more her safety then himselfe,

  His target alwayes ouer her pretended;

  By meanes whereof, that mote not be amended,

  He at the length was slaine, and layd on ground,

  Yet holding fast twixt both his armes extended

  Fayre Pastorell, who with the selfe same wound [swound.

  Launcht through the arme, fell down with him in drerie

  20 There lay she couered with confused preasse

  Of carcases, which dying on her fell.

  Tho when as he was dead, the fray gan ceasse,

  And each to other calling, did compell

  To stay their cruell hands from slaughter fell,

  Sith they that were the cause of all, were gone.

  Thereto they all attonce agreed well,

  And lighting candles new, gan search anone,

  How many of their friends were slaine, how many fone.

  21 Their Captaine there they cruelly found kild,

  And in his armes the dreary dying mayd,

  Like a sweet Angell twixt two clouds vphild:

  Her louely light was dimmed and decayd,

  With cloud of death vpon her eyes displayd;

  Yet did the cloud make euen that dimmed light

  Seeme much more louely in that darknesse layd,

  And twixt the twinckling of her eye-lids bright,

  To sparke out litle beames, like starres in foggie night

  22 But when they mou’d the carcases aside,

  They found that life did yet in her remaine:

  Then all their helpes they busily applyde,

  To call the soule backe to her home againe;

  And wrought so well with labour and long paine,

  That they to life recouered her at last.

  Who sighing sore, as if her hart in twaine

  Had riuen bene, and all her hart strings brast,

  With drearie drouping eyne lookt vp like one aghast

  23 There she beheld, that sore her grieu’d to see,

  Her father and her friends about her lying,

  Her selfe sole left, a second spoyle to bee

  Of those, that hauing saued her from dying,

  Renew’d her death by timely death denying:

  What now is left her, but to wayle and weepe,

  Wringing her hands, and ruefully loud crying?

  Ne cared she her wound in teares to steepe,

  Albe with all dieir might those Brigants her did keepe.

  24 But when they saw her now reliu’d againe,

  They left her so, in charge of one the best

  Of many worst, who with vnkind disdaine

  And cruell rigour her did much molest;

  Scarse yeelding her due food, or timely rest,

  And scarsely suffring her infestred wound,

  That sore her payn’d, by any to be drest.

  So leaue we her in wretched thraldome bound,

  And turne we backe to Calidore, where we him found.

  25 Who when he backe returned from the wood,

  And saw his shepheards cottage spoyled quight,

  And his loue reft away, he wexed wood,

  And halfe enraged at that ruefull sight,

  That euen his hart for very fell despight,

  And his owne flesh he readie was to teare,

  He chauft, he grieu’d, he fretted, and he sight,

  And fared like a furious wyld Beare,

  Whose whelpes are stolne away, she being otherwhere.

  26 Ne wight he found, to whom he might complaine,

  Ne wight he found, of whom he might inquire;

  That more increast the anguish of his paine.

  He sought the woods; but no man could see there,

  He sought the plaines; but could no try dings heare.

  The woods did nought but ecchoes vaine rebound;

  The playnes all waste and emptie did appeare:

  Where wont the shepheards oft their pypes resound,

  And feed an hundred flocks, there now not one he found.

  27 At last as there he romed vp and downe,

  He chaunst one comming towards him to spy,

  That seem’d to be some sorie simple clowne,

  With ragged weedes, and lockes vpstaring hye,

  As if he did from some late daunger fly,

  And yet his feare did follow him behynd:

  Who as he vnto him approched nye,

  He mote perceiue by signes, which he did fynd,

  That Coridon it was, the silly shepherds hynd.

  28 Tho to him running fast, he did not stay

  To greet him first, but askt where were the rest;

  Where Pastorell? who full of fresh dismay,

  And gushing forth in teares, was so opprest,

  That he no word could speake, but smit his brest,

  And vp to heauen his eyes fast streming threw.

  Whereat the knight amaz’d, yet did not rest,

  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 therewith
all,

  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,