Then taking vp that Recreants shield and speare, xiii Which earst he left, he signes vnto them made, With him to wend vnto his wonning neare: To which he easily did them perswade.[459] Farre in the forrest by a hollow glade, Couered with mossie shrubs, which spredding brode Did vnderneath them make a gloomy[460] shade; Where[461] foot of liuing creature neuer trode, Ne scarse wyld beasts durst come, there was this wights abode. Thether[462] he brought these vnacquainted guests; xiv To whom faire semblance, as he could, he shewed By signes, by lookes, and all his other gests. But the bare ground, with hoarie mosse bestrewed, Must be their bed, their pillow was vnsowed, And the frutes of the forrest was their feast: For their bad Stuard neither plough’d nor sowed, Ne fed on flesh, ne euer of wyld beast Did taste the bloud, obaying natures first beheast. Yet howsoeuer base and meane it were, xv They tooke it well, and thanked God for all, Which had them freed from that deadly feare, And sau’d from being to that caytiue thrall. Here they of force (as fortune now did fall) Compelled were themselues a while to rest, Glad of that easement, though it were but small; That hauing there their wounds awhile redrest, They mote the abler be to passe vnto the rest. During which time, that wyld man did apply xvi His best endeuour, and his daily paine, In seeking all the woods both farre and nye For herbes to dresse their wounds; still seeming faine, When ought he did, that did their lyking gaine. So as ere long he had that knightes wound Recured well, and made him whole againe: But that same Ladies hurts[463] no herbe he found, Which could redresse, for it was inwardly vnsound. Now when as _Calepine_ was woxen strong, xvii Vpon a day he cast abrode to wend, To take the ayre, and heare the thrushes song, Vnarm’d, as fearing neither foe nor frend, And without sword his person to defend. There him befell, vnlooked for before, An hard aduenture with vnhappie end, A cruell Beare, the which an infant bore Betwixt his bloodie iawes, besprinckled all with gore. The litle babe did loudly scrike[464] and squall, xviii And all the woods with piteous plaints did fill, As if his cry did meane for helpe to call To _Calepine_, whose eares those shrieches shrill Percing[465] his hart with pities point did thrill; That after him[466] he ran with zealous haste, To rescue th’infant, ere he did him kill: Whom though he saw now somewhat ouerpast, Yet by the cry he follow’d, and pursewed fast.