So well and wisely did that good old Knight vi Temper his griefe, and turned it to cheare, To cheare his guests, whom he had stayd that night, And make their welcome to them well appeare: That to Sir _Calidore_ was easie geare; But that faire Lady would be cheard for nought, But sigh’d and sorrow’d for her louer deare, And inly did afflict her pensiue thought, With thinking to what case her name should now be brought. For she was daughter to a noble Lord, vii Which dwelt thereby, who sought her to affy To a great pere; but she did disaccord, Ne could her liking to his loue apply, But lou’d this fresh young Knight, who dwelt her ny, The lusty _Aladine_, though meaner borne, And of lesse liuelood and hability, Yet full of valour, the which did adorne His meanesse much, and make her th’others riches scorne. So hauing both found fit occasion, viii They met together in that luckelesse glade; Where that proud Knight in his presumption The gentle _Aladine_ did earst inuade, Being vnarm’d, and set in secret shade. Whereof she now bethinking, gan t’aduize, How great a hazard she at earst had made Of her good fame, and further gan deuize, How she the blame might salue with coloured disguize. But _Calidore_ with all good courtesie ix Fain’d her to frolicke, and to put away The pensiue fit of her melancholie; And that old Knight by all meanes did assay, To make them both as merry as he may. So they the euening past, till time of rest, When _Calidore_ in seemly good array Vnto his bowre was brought, and there vndrest, Did sleepe all night through weary trauell of his quest. But faire _Priscilla_ (so that Lady hight) x Would to no[437] bed, nor take no kindely sleepe, But by her wounded loue did watch all night, And all the night for bitter anguish weepe, And with her teares his wounds did wash and steepe. So well she washt them, and so well she wacht him, That of the deadly swound, in which full deepe He drenched was, she at the length dispacht him, And droue away the stound, which mortally attacht him. The morrow next, when day gan to vplooke, xi He also gan vplooke with drery eye, Like one that out of deadly dreame awooke: Where when he saw his faire _Priscilla_ by, He deepely sigh’d[438], and groaned inwardly, To thinke of this ill state, in which she stood, To which she for his sake had weetingly Now brought her selfe, and blam’d her noble blood: For first, next after life, he tendered her good.