But Calepine, now being left alone Under the greene-wood's fide in forie plight, Withouten armes or steede to ride upon, Or houfe to hide his head from heaven's spight, Albe that dame by all the meanes she might Him oft defired home with her to wend, And offred him, his courtefie to requite, Both horfe and armes, and whatfo elfe, to lend, Yet he them all refusd, though thankt her as a frend:
And for exceeding griefe which inly grew, That he his love fo luckleffe now had loft, On the cold ground maugre himselfe he threw For fell defpight, to be fo forely croft, And there all night himfelfe in anguish toft, Vowing that never he in bed againe His limbes would reft, ne lig in eafe embost, Till that his ladies fight he mote attaine,
Or understand that she in fafetie did remaine.
That plainly may in this wyld man be red, Who though he were ftill in this defert wood Mongft falvage beasts both rudely born and bred, Ne ever faw faire guize, ne learned good, Yet fhewd fome token of his gentle blood By gentle ufage of that wretched dame; For certes he was borne of noble blood, However by hard hap he hether came,
Tho backe returning to that forie dame, He fhewed femblant of exceeding mone By fpeaking fignes, as he them beft could frame; Now wringing both his wretched hands in one, Now beating his hard head upon a stone, That ruth it was to see him fo lament; By which the well perceiving what was done, Gan teare her hayre, and all her garments rent, And beat her breaft, and piteously herselfe tor-
Upon the ground herselfe fhe fiercely threw, Regardleffe of her wounds yet bleeding rife, That with their bloud did all the flore imbrew, As if her breaft, new launcht with murdrous knife, Would ftreight diflodge the wretched wearie life: There the long groveling and deepe groning lay, As if her vitall powers were at ftrife With stronger death, and feared their decay;
As ye may know, when time fhall be to tell the Such were this ladies pangs and dolorous aflay.
Who whenas now long time he lacked had The good Sir Calepine, that farre was strayd, Did wexe exceeding sorrowfull and fad, As he of fome misfortune were afrayd; And leaving there this ladie all dismayd, Went forth ftreightway into the forrest wyde To feeke if he perchance afleep were layd, Or whatso else were unto him betyde;
He fought him farre aud neare, yet him no where he spyde.
So did that fquire his foes difperfe and drive That feem'd the spoile of fome right well reafonder.
Him well behoved fo, for his three foes Sought to encompaffe him on every side, And dangerously did round about enclose; But most of all Defetto him annoyde, Creeping behinde him still to have destroyde; So did Decetto eke him circumvent; But ftout Defpetto, in his greater pryde, Did front him face to face, against him bent; Yet he them all withstood, and often made relent.
Till that at length nigh tyrd with former chace,
And weary now with carefull keeping ward, He gan to fhrinke, and fomewhat to give place, Full like ere long to have escaped hard; Whenas unwares he in the forrest heard A trampling fteede, that with his neighing fast Did warne his rider be uppon his gard; With noife whereof the fquire now nigh aghaft, Revived was, and fad despaire away did caft.
Eftfoones he fpide a knight approching nye, Who feeing one in fo great daunger fet Mongft many foes, himselfe did fafter hye To refkue him, and his weake part abet, For pitty fo to fee him overfet;
Whom foone as his three enimies did vew, They fled, and fast into the wood did get ; Him booted not to thinke them to purfew, The covert was so thicke that did no paffage fhew.
Then turning to that fwaine, him well he knew To be his Timias, his owne true squire; Whereof exceeding glad, he to him drew, And him embracing twixt his armes entire, Him thus befpake: "My Liefe! my Life's "defire!
"Why have ye me alone thus long yleft? "Tell me what world's defpight, or Heaven's "yre,
« AnteriorContinuar » |