CHAPTER XXXIX

THE END OF SIR CALIDORE’S QUEST

It chanced one day that while Sir Calidore was hunting in the woods—it pleased him more to be hunter than to be shepherd—a company of lawless men who never used the spade or plough, but lived by the spoiling of their neighbours, fell upon the shepherds’ village, and spoiled their houses and drove away their flocks. Many of the men they slew, and many they led away captives. Among these was old Melibæus and the fair Pastorella and also Corydon. These the brigands carried away to an island where they dwelt, a close place, hidden with great woods round about, meaning, when occasion offered, to sell them to merchants who dealt in such wares.

When they had remained in ward for a while the captain of the brigands, seeing Pastorella how fair she was, conceived a great love for her, and when she spake him fair, would have had her marry him. This she was ill-content to do, but could not devise any other means to stay his importunities than to feign a sudden sickness. While she was making this pretence there came to the island a company of slave merchants, who, inquiring whether there were any of the wares in which they dealt, were brought to the captain.

“Sir,” said the brigands to the captain, “here be the merchants; ’twould be well that all the captives whom we have should be brought out and sold for such a price as may be agreed upon, and the money divided in equal shares.”

To this the captain could not but consent. The captives, therefore, were brought forward, Melibæus and Corydon and the others, and the merchants set a price upon them. This being finished, said one of the brigands, “There is yet another captive, a very fair maid, for whom, without doubt, you would pay much money, so beautiful is she to look upon.”

“Nay,” cried the captain, “that maid is not for selling. She is my wife, nor has anyone any concern with her. She, too, is now so wasted and worn with sickness that no one would be willing to pay for her a price, however small.”

So he took them to the chamber where she abode. A poor place it was, gloomy and dark, and the maiden was wasted and wan. Nevertheless the merchants were astonished at her beauty. “The others,” said their spokesman, “are but common wares. We will buy them, if you will, but on this condition only, that we may buy this maiden also.” And he named for her a price of a thousand pieces of gold.

The captain’s wrath was much moved at these words. “My love,” he cried, “shall not be sold. With the others you may do as you will, but to her I hold.”

“Nay,” said the one who was chief among the brigands, “you do us great wrong. We have our equal share in her, and we demand that she be sold with the rest.”

When he heard this, the captain drew his sword from its sheath, and shouted that anyone who should dare lay hands on her should straightway die. On this there followed a great battle. But first they slew the prisoners, lest haply they should turn against the weaker side. Thus did old Melibæus die and with him many others, but Corydon escaped. This being done, the thieves fought among themselves; and soon the captain, who was ever more careful of Pastorella than of his own life, was slain, and she, being wounded with the same stroke by which he was bereft of life, fell upon the ground, being hidden under a pile of dead bodies. The captain being dead, the strife of which he was the beginning and the chief cause soon came to an end. The brigands, searching among the dead, found the maid still lived, though sorely wounded; they gave her, therefore, such care as could be found in so rude a place.

In the meanwhile Corydon had made his way to the village where he dwelt, and there he encountered the knight, who, seeing the house in which he dwelt utterly spoiled and void of all inhabitants, was overwhelmed with trouble and fear. To him he told the story of how he, with the rest, had been led into captivity, and how the brigands had fallen out among themselves, and how the captain had fought with the others, and had been slain, and with him Pastorella, for so the shepherd believed.

For a while Sir Calidore was wholly mastered by his grief. Yet coming to himself, he considered that Corydon had not seen with his own eyes all that he had told, because he had fled away before the strife had so much as begun; and so hope, which is ever hard to kill in the hearts of men, sprang up within him, and he made a great resolve that he would find her if she yet lived, or avenge her if she had died. He therefore said to Corydon: “Come now, and show me the place where these brigands dwell,” which thing Corydon was at the first unwilling to do; for he was not minded to run again into the danger from which he had escaped. Nevertheless Sir Calidore so wrought upon him that he consented to go.

The two therefore set out together clad in shepherd’s clothing, and carrying each a shepherd’s crook; but Sir Calidore had donned his armour. After a while they saw on a hill which was not far away some flocks and shepherds tending them, and approached them, hoping to learn something about the matter with which they were concerned. Then they perceived that these flocks were indeed the same as the brigands had driven away, for Corydon knew his own sheep when he saw them, and wept for pity, being in grievous fear because he perceived that they who kept them were none other than the brigands themselves. These, however, were but ill shepherds, for they lay fast asleep. Corydon would have had Sir Calidore slay them as they slept. But the knight hoped that he might gain from them some tidings of her whom he was seeking. So, waking them gently, he gave them courteous greeting. And when the brigands would know who he was, he answered that he and his companion were used to the keeping of cattle and the like, and now, having run away from their masters, sought to find service elsewhere.

“Take service then with us,” said the brigands, “for this work is not to our liking.” To this the two agreed, and took charge accordingly.

When night fell the brigands took them to the cave where they dwelt. There Sir Calidore learnt many things which he desired to know, and chief of all that Pastorella was yet alive. At midnight, when all were sleeping sound, Sir Calidore, fully armed, for he had found a sword, though but of the meanest sort, went to the cave wherein dwelt the new captain of the band. It was indeed barred, but the knight soon broke down the bars, and when the captain, roused by the noise, came running to the entrance, slew him. Pastorella, being within, was at the first not a little alarmed at this new intruder, yet was greatly comforted to see again her own lover, and he also was overcome with joy, and catching her in his arms, kissed her most tenderly. Meanwhile the thieves had gathered together, perceiving that some new danger threatened them. But Sir Calidore, standing in the opening, slew them as they approached. In the end he utterly vanquished the whole company, and spoiled their goods. As for the sheep, he gave them as a gift to Corydon. The fair Pastorella he bestowed in the house of a certain Sir Bellamour and the lady Claribell his wife.

Now must be told the true name and lineage of this same maiden Pastorella. Sir Bellamour in former time had served a very great lord of those parts who had one daughter, Claribell by name. This same lord had promised her in marriage to the lord of Pictland, which was the neighbouring dominion, thinking that the two domains might thus be conveniently joined together. Claribell meanwhile loved Sir Bellamour, who was a very gallant knight. So fondly did she love him that she consented to a secret wedlock, having good hopes that her father might relent. But when he continued to be hard of heart, she having borne a maiden babe, was constrained to commit the child to a woman who waited upon her. This same woman, taking the babe into the field, laid it under a bush, and having hidden herself hard by, waited to see what should happen, for she trusted that someone, hearing its cry, would take it up. But first she noted that it had on its breast a little spot of purple colour, like to a rosebud. After a while the shepherd Melibæus passing by, heard the voice of the babe, and taking it from its place, carried it home to his wife, who, being herself childless, gladly took it in charge, and reared it for her own. No long time after the Lady Claribell’s father died and left to her all that he had, and she having now no cause why she should conceal her marriage, took Sir Bellamour openly for her husband, and had lived with him in great content until the coming of Sir Calidore into those parts.

And now Sir Calidore bethought him of his quest, that he must not delay its accomplishment any longer, and, indeed, he feared lest he should suffer in fame because he had put it aside in thinking of other things. Now, therefore, he departed, leaving Pastorella in the charge of the Lady Claribell, the same undertaking this care most willingly, for the maid was fair and gracious, and was altogether one to be loved. Sir Bellamour also, having a friendship for Sir Calidore, with whom he had served the Queen Gloriana in time past, was glad to help him in this fashion.

It chanced on a day that the Lady Claribell’s waiting woman, Melissa by name, being the same that in time past had served her in the matter of the new-born babe, was doing service to the fair Pastorella in the matter of her attire. Being so engaged, she spied the mark on her bosom and said to herself, “Surely this is the very mark of a rosebud that I saw on the Lady Claribell’s maiden babe, and the years of her age, as far as may be guessed, agree thereto.” Having this in her mind, she ran straightway to the lady, her mistress, and unfolded the whole matter, how she had noted the mark, and how the old shepherd had taken the babe from the ground. That this shepherd and his wife had been as father and mother to the maiden was of common knowledge. Nor did the Lady Claribell delay to search out the matter with her own eyes, and, being satisfied that this was indeed her very child, took her to herself with great joy, as did also her husband, Sir Bellamour.

Meanwhile Sir Calidore pursued the Blatant Beast, and at the last overtook him. The monster, having spoiled all the other places in the realm, was wasting the church, robbing the chancel and fouling the altar, and casting down all the goodly ornaments. When he saw the knight he fled, knowing that he was in peril, yet could he not escape. In a narrow place Sir Calidore overtook him and compelled him to turn. Sore was the conflict between these two, for the beast ran at the knight with open mouth, set with a double range of iron teeth, between which were a thousand tongues giving out dreadful cries as of all manner of beasts, tongues of serpents also spitting out poison, and of all other venomous things that are upon the earth. Not one whit dismayed, the knight ran in upon him, and when the monster lifted himself up on his hind legs, and would have rent him with his claws, he threw his shield between and held him down. Vainly did the beast rage and strive to lift himself from the ground; the more he strove, the more hardly and heavily did the knight press upon him. At the last, when the creature’s strength now failed him, the knight put a great muzzle of iron with many links in his mouth, so that he should no more send forth those evil voices. And to the muzzle he fastened a long chain with which he led him, he following as a dog, so utterly was he subdued. Through all Fairyland he led him, the people thronging out of their towns to see him, and much admiring the knight who, by his great strength and valour, had subdued so foul and fierce a creature.

’Tis true that in after days, whether by some evil chance or by the folly of those who had charge of the monster, these bonds were broken; for even now the creature wanders about the world doing great harm to all estates of men. For it must be known that his name is Slander.

But in the good times of old it was not so. So did Sir Calidore fulfil his quest. And afterwards he lived in all happiness, as became so brave and loyal a knight, with his wedded wife, the fair Pastorella.

FOOTNOTES

[1]The story may be read at length in _Stories from the Greek Tragedians_. Briefly put, it is this: Hercules slew the Centaur who would have carried off his promised wife. The dying monster gave his mantle, dyed as it was with his blood, to the woman, saying: “Keep this as my last gift: it will be a sure means of keeping your husband’s love.” In after years the woman, thinking that her husband had ceased to love her, sent him the robe as a gift, and he, putting it on, was so grievously burned by the poison that he died.

[2]Adikia = Unrighteousness.

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Transcriber’s note:

--Silently corrected obvious typographical errors; left archaic spellings unchanged.