Who in a morning, when this maiden faire
Was dighting her, having her fnowy brest
As yet not laced, nor her golden haire
Into their comely treffes dewly drest,
Chaunft to espy upon her yvory cheft
The rofie marke, which fhe 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, ftreight she gan to cast
In her conceiptfull mynd that this faire mayd
Was that fame infant, which fo long fith past
She in the open fields had loosely layd
To fortunes fpoile, unable it to ayd :
So full of ioy ftreight forth fhe ran in haft
Unto her mistreffe, being halfe difmayd,
To tell her, how the heavens had her grafte
To save her chylde, which in misfortunes mouth was plafte.
XVII.
The fober mother feeing fuch her mood,
Yet knowing not, what meant that fodaine thro,
Askt her, how mote her words be understood,
And what the matter was that mov'd her fo.
My liefe, faid fhe, ye know that long ygo,
Whileft ye in durance dwelt, ye to me gave
A little mayde, the which ye chylded tho;.
The fame againe, if now ye lift to have,
The fame is yonder lady, whom high God did fave.
XVIII.
Much was the lady troubled at that speach,
And
gan to question ftreight how the it knew.
Moft certaine markes, fayd fhe, do me it teach;
For on her breaft I with thefe eyes did vew
The litle purple rose which thereon grew,
Whereof her name ye then to her did give.
Befides her countenaunce and her likely bew,
Matched with equall years, do furely prive
That yond fame is your daughter fure, which yet doth live.
The matrone stayd no lenger to enquire,
But forth in haft ran to the ftraunger mayd;
Whom catching greedily for
great defire,
Rent up her breft, and bosome open layd,
In which that rose she plainely faw displayd :
Then her embracing twixt her armes twaine,
She long fo held, and foftly weeping fayd,
And liveft thou, my daughter, now againe?
And art thou yet alive, whom dead I long did faine?
XX.
Tho further asking her of fundry things,
And times comparing with their accidents,
She found at last by very certaine fignes,
And speaking markes of paffed monuments,
That this young mayd, whom chance to her presents,
Is her owne daughter, her owne infant deare.
Tho wondring long at those so ftraunge events,
A thousand times the her embraced nere,
With many a joyfull kiffe and many a melting teare.
Whoever is the mother of one chylde,
Which having thought long dead fhe fyndes alive,
Let her by proofe of that which she hath fylde
In her owne breast, this mothers ioy defcrive:
For other none fuch paffion 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 paffing 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 feeking all this while
That monftrous beast by finall force to quell,
Through every place with reftleffe paine and toile
Him follow'd by the tract of his outragious spoile..
Through all eftates he found that he had paft,
In which he many maffacres had left,
And to the Clergy now was come at last;
In which such spoile, fuch havocke, and fuch theft
He wrought, that thence all goodnesse he bereft,
That endleffe were to tell. the elfin knight,
Who now no place befides unfought had left,
At length into a monastere did light,
Where he him found defpoyling all with maine and might.
XXIV.
Into their cloysters now he broken had,
Through which the monckes he chaced here and there,
And them perfu'd into their dortours fad,
And fearched all their cels and fecrets neare;
In which what filth and ordure did
Were yrkefome to report; yet that foule beaft
Nought fparing them, the more did toffe and teare, And ranfacke all their dennes from moft to leaft, Regarding nought religion nor their holy heast.
From thence into the facred church he broke,
And robd the chancell, and the deskes downe threw,
And altars fouled, and blafphemy spoke,
And the images, for all their goodly hew,
Did caft to ground, whileft none was them to rew;
So all confounded and difordered there:
But feeing Calidore away he flew,
Knowing his fatall hand by former feare;
But he him faft pursuing foone approached neare.
Him in a narrow place he overtooke,
And fierce affailing forft him turne againe :
Sternely he turnd againe, when he him ftrooke
With his sharpe steele, and ran at him amaine
With open mouth, that seemed to containe
A full good pecke within the utmost brim,
All fet with yron teeth in raunges twaine,
That terrifide his foes, and armed him,
Appearing like the mouth of Orcus griefly grim:
And therein were a thousand tongs empight
Of fundry kindes and fundry quality;
Some were of dogs that barked day and night,
And fome of cats that wrawling ftill did cry,
And fome of beares that groynd continually,
And some of tygres that did seeme to gren,
And fnar at all that ever paffed by:
But most of them were tongues of mortall men,
Which spake reprochfully, not caring where nor when.
XXVIII.
And them amongst were mingled here and there,
The tongues of serpents with three-forked stings,
That spat out poyfon and gore, bloudy gere,
At all that came within his ravenings,
And fpake licentious words and hatefull things
Of good and bad alike, of low and hie,
Ne kefars fpared he a whit nor kings;
But either blotted them with infamie,
Or bit them with his banefull teeth of iniury.
XXIX.
But Calidore thereof no whit afrayd,
Rencountred him with fo impetuous might,
That th' outrage of his violence he stayd,
And bet abacke, threatning in vaine to bite,
And spitting forth the poyson of his spight,
That fomed all about his bloody iawes:
Tho rearing up his former feete on hight,
He rampt upon
him with his ravenous pawes,
As if he would have rent him with his cruell clawes:
But he right well aware his rage to ward
Did caft his shield atweene, and there withall
Putting his puissaunce forth, purfu'd fo hard,
That backeward he enforced him to fall,
And being downe, ere he new helpe could call,
His shield he on him threw, and fast downe held;
Like as a bullocke, that in bloudy stall
Of butchers balefull hand to ground is feld,
Is forcibly kept downe, till he be throughly queld.
Striving in vaine to rere himself upright:
For ftill the more he ftrove, the more the knight
Did him fuppreffe, and forcibly fubdew ;
That made him almoft mad for fell defpight:
He grind, he bit, he fcracht, he venim threw,
And fared like a feend, right horrible in hew :
XXXII.
Or like the hell-borne Hydra, which they faine
That great Alcides whilome overthrew,
After that he had labourd long in vaine
To crop his thousand heads, the which still new
Forth budded, and in greater number grew:
Such was the fury of this hellish beast,
Whileft Calidore him under him downe threw
Who nathemore his heavy load releast,
the more he rag'd, the more his powre increaft.
XXXIII.
Tho when the beast saw he mote nought availe
By force, he gan his hundred tongues apply,
And sharpely at him to revile and raile
With bitter termes of fhamefull infamy;
Oft interlacing many a forged lie,
Whose like he never once did speake nor heare,
Nor ever thought thing fo unworthily:
Yet did he nought for all that him forbeare,
But strained him so streightly that he chokt him neare,
XXXIV.
At laft whenas he found his force to fhrincke,
And rage to quaile, he tooke a muzzle strong
Of fureft yron made with many a lincke;
Therewith he mured up his mouth along,
And therein shut up his blafphemous tong,
For never more defaming gentle knight,
Or unto lovely lady doing wrong:
And thereunto a great long chaine he tight,
With which he drew him forth even in his own defpight,
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