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356 THE VI BQQKE OF THE C ant IIII.
38
Right glad was Calepine to be so rid
Of his young charge, whereof he skilled nought
Ne she lesse glad, for she so wisely did,
And with her husband vnder hand so wrought,
That when that infant vnto him she brought,
She made him thinke it surely was his owne,
And it in goodly thewes so well vpbrought,
That it became a famous knight well knowne
And did right noble deedes, the which elswhere
are showne
39
But Calepine, now being left alone
Vnder the greenewoods side in sorie plight,
With outen armes or steede to ride vpon,
Or house to hide his head from heauens spight,
Albe that Dame by all the meanes she might,
Him oft desired home with her to wend,
And offred him, his courtesie to requite,
Both horse and armes, and what so else to
lend,
Yet he them all refusd, though thankt her as
a frend
40
And for exceeding griefe which inly grew,
That he his loue so lucklesse now had lost,
On the cold ground, maugre himselfe he threw,
For fell despight, to be so sorely crost,
And there all night himselfe in anguish tost,
Vowing, that neuer he in bed againe
His limbes would rest, ne lig in ease embost,
Till that his Ladies sight he mote attaine,
Or vnderstand, that she in safetie did remaine
Cant V
£he saluage struts Matilda well
till she Prince Arthure fynd,
Who her together with his Squyre
with th'Hermtt leaues behynd
i
0 what an easie thing is to descry
The gentle bloud, how euer it be wrapt
In sad misfortunes foule deformity,
And wretched sorrowes,which haue often hapt?
For howsoeuer it may grow mis-shapt,
Like this wyld man, being vndisaplynd,
That to all vertue it may seeme vnapt,
Yet will it shew some sparkes of gentle mynd,
And at the last breake forth in his owne proper
kynd
2
That plainely may in this wyld man be red,
Who though he were still in this desert wood,
Mongst saluage beasts, both rudely borne
and bred,
Ne euer saw faire guize, ne learned good,
Yet shewd some token of his gentle blood,
By gentle vsage of that wretched Dame
For certes he was borne of noble blood,
How euer by hard hap he nether came ,
As ye may know, when time shall be to tell
the same
3
Who when as now long time he lacked had
The good Sir Calepine, that farrc was stray d,
Did wexe exceeding sorrowfull and sad,
As he of some misfortune were afrayd
And leauing there this Ladie all dismayd,
Went forth streight way into the forrest wyde,
To seeke, if he perchance a sleepe were layd,
Or what so else were vnto him betyde
He sought him farre and neare,yet him no where
he spyde
4
Tho backe returning to that sorie Dame,
He shewed semblant of exceeding mone,
By speaking signes,as he them best couldframe,
Now wringing both his wretched hands in one,
Now beating his hard head v pon a stone,
That ruth it was to see him so lament
By which she well perceiuing, what was done,
Gan teare her hayre, and all her garments rent,
And beat her breast, and piteously her selfe
torment
Vpon the ground her selfe she fiercely threw,
Regardlesse of her wounds, yet bleeding rife,
That with their bloud did all the flore imbrew,
As if her breast new launcht with murdrous
knife,
Would streight dislodge the wretched weane
life
There she long grouehng, and deepe groning
As if her vitall powers were at strife [lay,
With stronger death, and feared their decay,
Such were this Ladies pangs and dolorousassay
6
Whom when the Saluage saw so sore distrest,
He reared her vp from the bloudie ground,
Andsoughtby all the meanes,thathecouldbest
Her to recure out of that stony swound,
And staunch the bleeding of her dreary wound
Yet nould she be recomforted for nought,
Ne cease her sorrow and impatient stound,
But day and night did vexeher carefull thought,
And euer more and more her owne affliction
wrought