Sir Calidore, having rescued Pastorella from the brigands’ den, took her
to the Castle of Belgard, where the good Sir Bellamour was lord, and
there a strange thing happened.
Years before, Sir Bellamour had secretly married a beautiful maiden,
called Claribel, the daughter of a rich and powerful man, known by the
name of the “Lord of Many Islands.” Her father had hoped, because of his
great wealth, that his daughter would marry the Prince of a neighbouring
country, and when he found that she loved Sir Bellamour, he was in such
a rage that he threw them in two deep dungeons, forbidding them ever to
see each other. When Claribel was in prison, a little daughter was born
to her; but, fearing lest her father should get hold of it, she
entrusted it to her handmaid, Melissa, to have it brought up as a
stranger’s child. The trusty damsel carried it into an empty field, and
having kissed and wept over it, placed it on the ground, and hid herself
behind some bushes near, to see what mortal would take pity on the poor
little infant. At length a shepherd, who kept his fleecy flocks on the
plains around, led by the infant’s cry, came to the place, and when he
found there the abandoned treasure, he took it up, and wrapping it in
his mantle, bore it home to his honest wife, who ever afterwards brought
it up as her own child.
Claribel and Bellamour remained a long time in captivity, till at last
the “Lord of Many Islands” died, and left them all his possessions. Then
the tide of fortune turned, they were restored to freedom, and rejoiced
in happiness together. They had lived for a long time in peace and love
when Sir Calidore brought Pastorella to the castle. Here they both
received the heartiest welcome, for Sir Bellamour was an old friend of
Calidore’s, and loved him well; and Claribel, seeing how weak and wan
Pastorella was after her long captivity, tended her with the greatest
love and care.
Now, it happened that before the handmaiden parted with the infant she
noticed on its breast a little purple mark, like a rose unfolding its
silken leaves. This same maiden, Melissa, was appointed to wait on
Pastorella, and one morning, when she was helping her to dress, she
noticed on her chest the rosy mark which she remembered well on the
little infant, Claribel’s daughter. Full of joy, she ran in haste to her
mistress, and told her that the beautiful lady was no other than the
little child who had been born in prison. Then Claribel ran quickly to
the stranger maiden, and finding it was even as Melissa said, she
clasped her in her arms and held her close, weeping softly and saying,
“And do you now live again, my daughter, and are you still alive whom
long I mourned as dead?”
Then there was great rejoicing in the Castle of Belgard.
[Illustration:
“=Putting his puissance forth, pursued so hard
That backward he enforced him to fall;
And being down, ere he new help could call,
His shield he on him threw, and far down held.=”
]
Meanwhile Sir Calidore was pursuing the quest of the Blatant Beast,
seeking him in every place with unresting pain and toil, and following
him by his destroying track, for wherever the monster went he left
behind him ruin and devastation.
At last, in a narrow place, Sir Calidore overtook him, and, fiercely
assailing, forced him to turn. Then the Blatant Beast ran at him with
open mouth, huge and horrible; it was all set with a double row of iron
teeth, and in it were a thousand tongues of every kind and quality—some
were of dogs, that barked day and night; some of cats that yawled; some
of bears that growled continually; some of tigers that seemed to grin
and snarl at all who passed by; but most of them were tongues of mortal
men, who poured forth abuse, not caring where nor when; and among them
were mingled here and there the tongues of serpents, with three-forked
stings, that spat out poison at all who came within reach, speaking
hateful things of good and bad alike, of high and low, not even sparing
kings or kaisers, but either blotting them with infamy or biting them
with their baneful teeth.
But Calidore, not in the least afraid of this horrid spectacle, met him
with such impetuous might that he checked his violence and beat him
back. Then the monster, rearing up, ramped upon him with his ravenous
paws, as if his cruel claws would have rent him; but the Knight, being
well on guard, cast his shield between, and putting forth all his
strength, forced him to fall back; and when he was down, he threw his
shield on him and pinned him to the ground. In vain did the Beast rage
and roar; for the more he strove, the more firmly the Knight held him,
so that he was almost mad with spite. He grinned, he bit, he scratched,
he spat out venom, and acted like a horrible fiend.
When the monster saw force was of no avail, he began to use his hundred
tongues, and reviled and railed at the Knight with bitter terms of
infamy, weaving in many a forged lie, whose like Sir Calidore had never
heard or thought of; yet for all that he did not let the creature go,
but held him so tight that he nearly choked him.
At last, when he found his strength failing and his rage lessening, Sir
Calidore took a strong muzzle of the stoutest iron, made with many a
link, with which he fastened up his mouth, shutting up therein his
blasphemous tongue, so that he should never more defame gentle knight or
wrong lovely lady; and to this he tied a great long chain, with which he
dragged him forth in spite of himself. The hideous Beast chafed inwardly
at these strange bonds, which no one till then had dared to impose on
him; yet he dared not draw back nor attempt to resist the power of the
noble Calidore, but trembled before him, and followed like a frightened
dog.
All through Faerie Land he followed him thus, as if he had learnt
obedience, so that all the people wherever he went thronged out of the
town to see Sir Calidore lead the Blatant Beast in bondage, and seeing
it were amazed at the sight; and all such people as he had formerly
wronged rejoiced to see him a captive, and many wondered at the Beast,
but more wondered at the Knight.
Thus was this monster suppressed and tamed by the mastering might of the
doughty Calidore, and so for a long time he remained. But at last,
either by wicked fate or the fault of men, he broke his iron chain, and
got again at liberty into the world; and here he still ranges, barking
and biting, sparing no one in his malice, and doing an infinite deal of
mischief wherever he goes; and since the days of the good Sir Calidore
no man has ever been able to master him.