As that he in his mind her worthy deemèd

To be a princes paragone esteemèd,

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He was unwares surprisd in subtile bands

Of the Blynd Boy, ne thence could be redeemèd

By any skill out of his cruell hands,

Caught like the bird which gazing still on others stands.

So stood he still long gazing thereupon,
Ne any will had thence to move away,

Although his quest were farre afore him gon:
But after he had fed, yet did he stay
And sate there still, untill the flying day

Was farre forth spent, discoursing diversly
Of sundry things as fell, to worke delay;
And evermore his speach he did apply

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To th' heards, but meant them to the damzels fantazy.

By this the moystie night, approching fast,

Her deawy humour gan on th' earth to shed,

That warned the shepheards to their homes to hast

Their tender flocks, now being fully fed,

For feare of wetting them before their bed.
Then came to them a good old aged syre,

Whose silver lockes bedeckt his beard and hed, With shepheards hooke in hand, and fit attyre, That wild the damzell rise; the day did now expyre.

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He was, to weet, by common voice esteemèd

The father of the fayrest Pastorell,

And of her selfe in very deede so deemèd;

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Yet was not so, but, as old stories tell,

Found her by fortune, which to him befell,

In th' open fields an infant left alone,

And, taking up, brought home and noursèd well
As his owne chyld, for other he had none;
That she in tract of time accompted was his owne.

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She at his bidding meekely did arise,
And streight unto her litle flocke did fare.
Then all the rest about her rose likewise,
And each his sundrie sheepe with severall care
Gathered together, and them homeward bare:

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Whylest everie one with helping hands did strive,
Amongst themselves, and did their labours share,
To helpe faire Pastorella home to drive
Her fleecie flocke; but Coridon most helpe did give.

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But Meliboe (so hight that good old man),
Now seeing Calidore left all alone,

And night arrived hard at hand, began

Him to invite unto his simple home;

Which though it were a cottage clad with lome,

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And all things therein meane, yet better so

To lodge then in the salvage fields to rome.

The knight full gladly soone agreed thereto

(Being his harts owne wish), and home with him did go.

There he was welcomed of that honest syre

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And of his aged beldame homely well;
Who him besought himselfe to disattyre,
And rest himselfe till supper time befell;
By which home came the fayrest Pastorell,
After her flocke she in their fold had tyde:
And, supper readie dight, they to it fell
With small adoe, and nature satisfyde,
The which doth litle crave contented to abyde.

Tho when they had their hunger slakèd well,
And the fayre mayd the table ta'ne away,
The gentle knight, as he that did excell
In courtesie and well could doe and say,

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For so great kindnesse as he found that day

Gan greatly thanke his host and his good wife;
And, drawing thence his speach another way,

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Gan highly to commend the happie life

Which shepheards lead, without debate or bitter strife.

"How much," sayd he, "more happie is the state
In which ye, father, here doe dwell at ease,
Leading a life so free and fortunate
From all the tempests of these worldly seas,
Which tosse the rest in daungerous disease,
Where warres and wreckes and wicked enmitie
Doe them afflict, which no man can appease,

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That certes I your happinesse envie,
And wish my lot were plast in such felicitie."

"Surely, my sonne," then answered he againe,
"If happie, then it is in this intent,

That having small yet doe I not complaine
Of want, ne wish for more it to augment,
But doe my selfe with that I have content;
So taught of nature, which doth litle need

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Of forreine helpes to lifes due nourishment :

The fields my food, my flocke my rayment breed; No better doe I weare, no better doe I feed.

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"Therefore I doe not any one envy,

Nor am envyde of any one therefore:

They that have much feare much to loose thereby,
And store of cares doth follow riches store.

The litle that I have growes dayly more

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Without my care, but onely to attend it;

My lambes doe every yeare increase their score,

And my flockes father daily doth amend it.

What have I but to praise th' Almighty That doth send it!

"To them that list, the worlds gay showes I leave,
And to great ones such follies doe forgive;
Which oft through pride do their owne perill weave,
And through ambition downe themselves doe drive
To sad decay, that might contented live.

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Me no such cares nor combrous thoughts offend,

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Ne once my minds unmovèd quiet grieve; But all the night in silver sleepe I spend, And all the day to what I list I doe attend.

"Sometimes I hunt the fox, the vowed foe
Unto my lambes, and him dislodge away;
Sometime the fawne I practise from the doe,
Or from the goat her kidde, how to convay;
Another while I baytes and nets display,
The birds to catch or fishes to beguyle;
And when I wearie am, I downe doe lay

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My limbes in every shade to rest from toyle,

And drinke of every brooke when thirst my throte doth boyle.

"The time was once, in my first prime of yeares,
When pride of youth forth prickèd my desire,
That I disdained amongst mine equall peares
To follow sheepe and shepheards base attire.
For further fortune then I would inquire;
And, leaving home, to roiall court I sought,
Where I did sell my selfe for yearely hire,
And in the Princes gardin daily wrought:
There I beheld such vainenesse as I never thought.

"With sight whereof soone cloyd, and long deluded
With idle hopes which them doe entertaine,
After I had ten yeares my selfe excluded
From native home, and spent my youth in vaine,
I gan my follies to my selfe to plaine,

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And this sweet peace, whose lacke did then appeare.
Tho, backe returning to my sheepe againe,

I from thenceforth have learned to love more deare This lowly quiet life which I inherite here."

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Whylest thus he talkt, the knight with greedy care
Hong still upon his melting mouth attent;
Whose sensefull words empierst his hart so neare
That he was rapt with double ravishment,

Both of his speach, that wrought him great content,
And also of the object of his vew,

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On which his hungry eye was alwayes bent;
That, twixt his pleasing tongue and her faire hew,

He lost himselfe, and like one halfe entrauncèd grew.

Yet, to occasion meanes to worke his mind
And to insinuate his harts desire,

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He thus replyde: "Now surely, syre, I find
That all this worlds gay showes, which we admire,

Be but vaine shadowes to this safe retyre

Of life, which here in lowlinesse ye lead,

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Fearelesse of foes or fortunes wrack full yre,

Which tosseth states, and under foot doth tread The mightie ones, affrayd of every chaunges dread.

"That even I, which daily doe behold

The glorie of the great mongst whom I won,

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And now have proved what happinesse ye hold

In this small plot of your dominion,

Now loath great lordship and ambition,

And wish th' heavens so much had graced mee

As graunt me live in like condition,

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Or that my fortunes might transposed bee

From pitch of higher place unto this low degree."

“In vaine,” said then old Meliboe, “doe men
The heavens of their fortunes fault accuse,
Sith they know best what is the best for them;
For they to each such fortune doe diffuse,
As they doe know each can most aptly use:
For not that which men covet most is best,

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Nor that thing worst which men do most refuse;

But fittest is that all contented rest

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With that they hold: each hath his fortune in his brest.

"It is the mynd that maketh good or ill,

That maketh wretch or happie, rich or poore;
For some, that hath abundance at his will,
Hath not enough, but wants in greatest store,
And other, that hath litle, askes no more,
But in that litle is both rich and wise:
For wisedome is most riches; fooles therefore
They are which fortunes doe by vowes devize,
Sith each unto himselfe his life may fortunize."

"Since, then, in each mans self," said Calidore,
"It is to fashion his owne lyfes estate,

Give leave awhyle, good father, in this shore
To rest my barcke, which hath bene beaten late
With stormes of fortune and tempestuous fate,
In seas of troubles and of toylesome paine;
That, whether quite from them for to retrate
I shall resolve, or backe to turne againe,

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I may here with your selfe some small repose obtaine.

"Not that the burden of so bold a guest

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Shall chargefull be or chaunge to you at all;
For your meane food shall be my daily feast,
And this your cabin both my bowre and hall.