Thence they him carried to a castle near,
In which a worthy ancient knight did wonne:1 Where what ensu'd shall in next canto be begun.
Calidore brings Priscilla home;
Pursues the Blatant Beast:
Saves Sérena, whilst Calepine
By Turpine is opprest.
TRUE is, that whilome2 that good poet* said,
The gentle mind by gentle deeds is known:
For a man by nothing is so well bewray'd
As by his manners; in which plain is shown
Of what degree and what race he is grown:
For seldom seen a trotting stallion get
An ambling colt, that is his proper own:
So seldom seen that one in baseness3 set
Doth noble courage shew with courteous manners
But evermore contráry hath been tried,4
That gentle blood will gentle manners breed;
As well may be in Calidore descried,
By late ensample of that courteous deed
Done to that wounded knight in his great need,
Whom on his back he bore, till he him brought
Unto the castle where they had decreed:
There of the knight, the which that castle ought,55 Owned. To make abode that night he greatly was besought.
He was to weet a man of full ripe years,
That in his youth had been of mickle might,
*Poet: Chaucer in 'Wife of Bath's Tale,' 1113.
And borne great sway in arms amongst his
But now weak age had dimm'd his candlelight:
Yet was he courteous still to every wight,
And loved all that did to arms incline;
And was the father of that wounded knight,
Whom Calidore thus carried on his chine;1
And Aldus was his name; and his son's Aladine.
Who when he saw his son so ill bedight
With bleeding wounds, brought home upon a bier
By a fair lady and a stranger knight,
Was inly touched with compassion dear,
And dear affection of so doleful drear,2
That he these words burst forth; Ah! sorry boy!
Is this the hope that to my hoary heare
Thou brings? aye me! is this the timely joy,
Which I expected long, now turn'd to sad annoy?
'Such is the weakness of all mortal hope;
So tickle1 is the state of earthly things;
That, ere they come unto their aimed scope,
They fall too short of our frail reckonings,
And bring us bale and bitter sorrowings,
Instead of comfort which we should embrace:
This is the state of kaisers and of kings!
Let none therefore, that is in meaner place,
Too greatly grieve at any his unlucky case!'
So well and wisely did that good old knight
Temper his grief, and turned it to cheer,
To cheer his guests whom he had stay'd5 that night,
And make their welcome to them well appear:
That to Sir Calidore was easy gear;6
But that fair lady would be cheer'd for nought,
But sigh'd and sorrow'd for her lover dear,
And inly did afflict her pensive thought
With thinking to what case her name should now
be brought:
For she was daughter to a noble lord
Which dwelt thereby, who sought her to affy1
To a great peer; but she did disaccord,
Ne could her liking to his love apply,
But lov'd this fresh young knight who dwelt her
The lusty2 Aladine, though meaner born
And of less livehood and hability,
Yet full of valour the which did adorn
His meanness3 much, and make her th' other's riches Humble
So, having both found fit occasion,
They met together in that luckless glade;
Where that proud knight in his presumption
The gentle Aladine did erst invade,
Being unarm'd and set in secret shade.
Whereof she now bethinking, gan t' advise
How great a hazard she at erst1 had made
Of her good fame; and further gan devise [guise.
How she the blame might salve with coloured dis-
But Calidore with all good courtesy
Fain'd5 her to frolic, and to put away
The pensive fit of her melancholy;
And that old knight by all means did assay
To make them both as merry as he may.
So they the evening pass'd till time of rest;
5 Desired.
6 Be cheerful.
When Calidore in seemly good array
Unto his bower was brought, and there undrest
Did sleep all night through weary travail of his quest.7 dtion.
But fair Priscilla (so that lady hight1)
Would to no bed, nor take no kindly sleep,
But by her wounded love did watch all night,
And all the night for bitter anguish weep,
And with her tears his wounds did wash and steep.
So well she wash'd them, and so well she watch'd
That of the deadly swoon, in which full deep [him,
He drenched was, she at the length despatch'd him.
And drove away the stound2 which mortally attach'd
him.
The morrow next, when day gan to uplook,
He also gan uplook with dreary eye,
Like one that out of deadly dream awook:
Where when he saw his fair Priscilla by,
He deeply sigh'd, and groaned inwardly,
To think of this ill state in which she stood;
To which she for his sake had weetinglys
Now brought herself, and blam'd her noble blood:
For first, next after life, he tendered her good.
Which she perceiving did with plenteous tears
His care more than her own compassionate,
Forgetful of her own to mind his fears:
So both conspiring gan to intimate 5
Each other's grief with zeal affectionate,
And twixt them twain with equal care to cast
How to save whole her hazarded estate; 6
For which the only help now left them last
Seem'd to be Calidore: all other helps were past.
Him they did deem, as sure to them he seemed,
A courteous knight and full of faithful trust;
Therefore to him their cause they best esteemed
Whole to commit, and to his dealing just.
Early, so soon as Titan's beams forth brust1 [lay Burst.
Through the thick clouds, in which they steeped
All night in darkness, dull'd with iron rust,
Calidore rising up as fresh as day
Gan freshly him address unto his former way.
But first him seemed fit that wounded knight
To visit, after this night's perilous pass;
And to salute him if he were in plight,
And eke that lady his fair lovely lass.
There he him found much better than he was;
And moved speech to him of things of course,
The anguish of his pain to over-pass:2
Mongst which he namely3 did to him discourse
Of former day's mishap, his sorrow's wicked source.
Of which occasion Aldine taking hold
Gan break to him the fortunes of his love,
And all his disadventures to unfold;
That Calidore it dearly deep did move:
In th' end, his kindly courtesy to prove,
He him by all the bands of love besought,
And as it might a faithful friend behove,
To safe-conduct his love, and not for ought
To leave, till to her father's house he had her brought.
Sir Calidore his faith thereto did plight
It to perform: so after little stay,
That she herself had to the journey dight,
He passed forth with her in fair array,
Fearless who ought did think or ought did say,
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