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.