Orlando Furioso
by Ludovico Ariosto
Hypertext Meanings and Commentaries
from the Encyclopedia of the Self
by Mark Zimmerman
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LXXXV
I think not these last words of Scotland's knight
Were so exprest, that he was understood:
With these, he finished, like a feeble light,
Which needs supply of was, or other food.
-- Who is there, that has power to tell aright
The gentle Isabella's doleful mood?
When stiff, her loved Zerbino, with pale face,
And cold as ice, remained in her embrace.

LXXXVI
On the ensanguined corse, in sorrow drowned,
The damsel throws herself, in her despair,
And shrieks so lout that wood and plain resound
For many miles about; nor does she spare
Bosom or cheek; but still, with cruel wound,
One and the other smites the afflicted fair;
And wrongs her curling lock of golden grain,
Aye calling on the well-loved youth in vain.

LXXXVII
She with such rage, such fury, was possest,
That, in her transport, she Zerbino's glaive
Would easily have turned against her breast,
Ill keeping the command her lover gave;
But that a hermit, from his neighbouring rest,
Accustomed oft to seek the fountain-wave,
His flagon at the cooling stream to fill,
Opposed him to the damsel's evil will.

LXXXVIII
The reverend father, who with natural sense
Abundant goodness happily combined,
And, with ensamples fraught and eloquence,
Was full of charity towards mankind,
With efficacious reasons her did fence,
And to endurance Isabel inclined;
Placing, from ancient Testament and new,
Women, as in a mirror, for her view.

LXXXIX
The holy man next made the damsel see,
That save in God there was no true content,
And proved all other hope was transitory,
Fleeting, of little worth, and quickly spent;
And urged withal so earnestly his plea,
He changed her ill and obstinate intent;
And made her, for the rest of life, desire
To live devoted to her heavenly sire.

XC
Not that she would her mighty love forbear,
For her dead lord, nor yet his relics slight;
These, did she halt or journey, every where
Would Isabel have with her, day and night.
The hermit therefore seconding her care,
Who, for his age, was sound and full of might,
They on his mournful horse Zerbino placed,
And traversed many a day that woodland waste.

XCI
The cautious elder would not bear away
Thus all alone with him that damsel bland
Thither, where in a cave, concealed from day,
His solitary cell hard by did stand:
Within himself exclaiming: "I convey
With peril fire and fuel in one hand."
Nor in such bold experiments the sage
Wisely would trust to prudence or to age.

XCII
He thought to bear her to Provence, where, near
The city of Marseilles a borough stood,
Which had a sumptuous monastery; here
Of ladies was a holy sisterhood;
And, hither to transport the cavalier,
They stowed his body in a chest of wood,
Made in a town by the way-side; and which
Was long and roomy, and well closed with pitch.

XCIII
So, compassing a mighty round, they fare
Through wildest parts, for many and many a day;
Because, the war extending every where,
They seek to hide themselves as best they may:
At length a cavalier arrests the pair,
That with foul scorn and outrage bars their way;
Of whom you more in fitting time shall learn,
But to the Tartar king I now return.

XCIV
After the fight between the two was done,
Already told by me, the king withdrew
To a cooling shade and river from the sun,
His horse's reins and saddle to undo;
Letting the courser at his pleasure run,
Browsing the tender grass the pasture through:
But he reposed short time ere he descried
An errant knight descend the mountain's side.

XCV
Him Doralice, as soon as he his front
Uplifted, knew; and showed him to her knight:
Saying: "Behold! the haughty Rodomont,
Unless the distance has deceived my sight.
To combat with thee, he descends the mount:
Now it behoves thee put forth all thy might.
To lose me, his betrothed, a mighty cross
The monarch deems, and comes to venge his loss."

XCVI
As a good hawk, who duck or woodcock shy,
Partridge or pigeon, or such other prey,
Seeing towards her from a distance fly,
Raises her head, and shows her blithe and gay;
So Mandricardo, in security
Of crushing Rodomont in that affray,
Gladly his courser seized, bestrode the seat,
Reined him, and in the stirrups fixt his feet.

XCVII
When the two hostile warriors were so near,
That words could be exchanged between the twain,
Loudly began the monarch of Argier
To threat with head and hand, in haughty strain,
That to repentance he will bring the peer
Who lightly for a pleasure, rash and vain,
Had scrupled not his anger to excite
Who dearly will the offered scorn requite.

XCVIII
When Mandricardo: "He but vainly tries
To fright, who threatens me -- by words unscared.
Woman, or child, or him he terrifies,
Witless of warfare; not me, who regard
With more delight than rest, which others prize,
The stirring battle; and who am prepared
My foeman in the lists or field to meet;
Armed or unarmed, on horse or on my feet."

XCIX
They pass to outrage, shout, and ire, unsheath
The brand; and loudly smites each cruel foe;
Like winds, which scarce at first appear to breathe,
Next shake the oak and ash-tree as they blow;
Then to the skies upwhirl the dusty wreath,
Then level forests, and lay houses low,
And bear the storm abroad, o'er land and main,
By which the flocks in greenwood-holt are slain.

C
Of those two infidels, unmatched in worth,
The valiant heart and strength, which thus exceed,
To such a warfare and such blows give birth,
As suits with warrior of so bold a seed.
At the loud sound and horrid, trembles earth,
When the swords cross; and to the stroke succeed
Quick sparks; or rather, flashing to the sky,
Bright flames by thousands and by thousands fly.

CI
Without once gathering breath, without repose,
The champions one another still assail;
Striving, now here, now there, with deadly blows,
To rive the plate, or penetrate the mail.
Nor this one gains, nor the other ground foregoes;
But, as if girded in by fosse or pale,
Or, as too dearly sold they deem an inch,
Ne'er from their close and narrow circle flinch.

CII
Mid thousand blows, so, with two-handed swing,
On his foe's forehead smote the Tartar knight,
He made him see, revolving in a ring,
Myriads of fiery balls and sparks of light.
The croupe, with head reversed, the Sarzan king
Now smote, as if deprived of all his might,
The stirrups lost; and in her sight, so well
Beloved, appeared about to quit the sell.

CIII
But as steel arbalest that's loaded sore,
By how much is the engine charged and strained,
By lever or by crane, with so much more
Fury returns, its ancient bent regained,
And, in discharging its destructive store,
Inflicts worse evil than itself sustained;
So rose that African with ready blade,
And straight with double force the stroke repaid.

CIV
Rodomont smites, and in the very place
Where he was smit, the Tartar in return;
But cannot wound the Sarzan in the face,
Because his Trojan arms the weapon turn;
Yes so astounds, he leaves him not in case,
If it be morn or evening to discern.
Rodomont stopt not, but in fury sped
A second blow, still aiming at his head.

CV
King Mandricardo's courser, who abhorred
The whistling of the steel which round him flew,
Saved, with sore mischief to himself, his lord;
In that he backed the faulchion to eschew:
Aimed at his master, not at him, the sword
Smote him across the head, and cleft it through.
No Trojan helm defends the wretched horse,
Like Mandricardo, and he dies parforce.

CVI
He falls, and Mandricardo on the plain
No more astound, slides down upon his feet,
And whirls his sword; to see his courser slain
He storms all over fired with angry heat.
At him the Sarzan monarch drives amain;
Who stands as firm as rock which billows beat.
And so it happened, that the courser good
Fell in the charge, while fast the footman stood.

CVII
The African, who feels his horse give way,
The stirrups quits, and lightly from the sell
Is freed, and springs on earth: for the assay
Hence matched anew, stands either infidel.
Worse than before the battle boils, while they
With pride and anger, and with hatred swell,
About to close; but that, with flowing rein,
A messenger arrives to part the twain.

CVIII
A messenger arrives, that from the Moor,
With many others, news through France conveyed;
Who word to simple knight and captain bore,
To join the troops, beneath their flags arrayed.
For he, the emperor, who the lilies wore,
Siege to their quarters had already laid;
And, save quick succour thither was addrest,
He read, their army's scathe was manifest.

CIX
The Moorish messenger not only knows,
By ensigns and by vest, the warlike pair,
But by the circling blades, and furious blows,
With which no other hands could wound the air;
Hence dared not 'twixt champions interpose,
Nor deemed his orders an assurance were
From such impetuous fury, nor the saw,
Which says embassadors are safe by law:

CX
But to fair Doralice approached, and said
Marsilius, Agramant, and Stordilane,
Within weak works, with scanty troops to aid,
Were close beleaguered by the Christian train.
And, having told his tale, the damsel prayed,
That this she to the warriors would explain;
And would accord the pair, and to their post
Dispatch, for rescue of the Moorish host.

CXI
The lady, with bold heart, 'twixt either foe
Threw herself, and exclaimed: "I you command,
By the large love you hear me, as I know,
That you to better use reserve the brand;
And that you instantly in succour go
Of our host, menaced by the Christian band;
Which now, besieged within its camp, attends
Ruin or speedy succour from its friends.

CXII
The messenger rehearsed, when she had done,
Fully the peril of the paynim train;
And said that he bore letters to the son
Of Ulien, from the son of King Troyane.
The message ended, every grudge foregone,
'Twas finally resolved between the twain,
They should conclude a truce, and till the day
The Moorish siege was raised, their strife delay.

CXIII
Intending, when from siege their Chivalry
Shall be relieved -- the one and the other knight --
No longer to remain in company,
But bandy cruel war was with fell despite,
Until determined by their arms shall be
To whom the royal dame belongs of right.
And she, between whose hands their solemn troth
They plighted, was security for both.

CXIV
DISCORD, at hearing this, impatient grew;
With any truce or treaty ill content:
And that such fair agreement should ensue,
PRIDE, who was present, could as ill consent:
But LOVE was there, more puissant than the two,
Equalled of none in lofty hardiment;
And launching from his bow his shafts of proof,
With these, made PRIDE and DISCORD stand aloof.

CXV
To keep the truce the rival warriors swore;
Since so it pleased her well, who either swayed.
One of their coursers lacked: for on the moor
Lifeless King Mandricardo's had been laid:
Hence, thither, in good time, came Brigliador,
Who, feeding, by the river's margin strayed.
But here I find me at my canto's end;
So, with your licence, shall the tale suspend.

CANTO 25

ARGUMENT
Rogero Richardetto from the pains
Of fire preserves, doomed by Marsilius dead:
He to Rogero afterwards explains
Fully the cause while he to death was led.
Them mournful Aldigier next entertains,
And with them the ensuing morning sped,
Vivian and Malagigi to set free;
To Bertolagi sold for hire and fee.

I
Oh! mighty springs of war in youthful breast,
Impetuous force of love, and thirst of praise!
Nor yet which most avails is known aright:
For each by turns its opposite outweighs.
Within the bosom here of either knight,
Honour, be sure, and duty strongly sways:
For the amorous strife between them is delayed,
Till to the Moorish camp they furnish aid.

II
Yet love sways more; for, save that the command
Was laid upon them by their lady gay,
Neither would in that battle sheathe the brand,
Till he was crowned with the victorious bay;
And Agramant might vainly with his band,
For either knight's expected succour, stay.
Then Love is not of evil nature still;
-- He can at times do good, if often ill.

III
'Twas now, suspending all their hostile rage,
One and the other paynim cavalier,
The Moorish host from siege to disengage,
For Paris, with the gentle lady, steer;
And with them goes as well that dwarfish page,
Who tracked the footsteps of the Tartar peer,
Till he had brought the warrior front to front,
In presence with the jealous Rodomont.

IV
They at a mead arrived, where, in disport,
Knights were reposing by a stream, one pair
Disarmed, another casqued in martial sort;
And with them was a dame of visage fair.
Of these in other place I shall report,
Not now; for first Rogero is my care,
That good Rogero, who, as I have shown,
Into a well the magic shield had thrown.

V
He from that well a mile is hardly gone
Ere he a courier sees arrive at speed,
Of those dispatched by King Troyano's son
To knights whom he awaited in his need;
From him Rogero hears that so foredone
By Charles are those who hold the paynim creed,
They will, save quickly succoured in the strife,
As quickly forfeit liberty and life.

VI
Rogero stood awhile in pensive case,
Whom many warring thoughts at once opprest;
But neither fitted was the time nor place
To make his choice, or judge what promised best.
The courier he dismist, and turned his face
Whither he with the damsel was addrest;
Whom aye the Child so hurried on her way,
He left her not a moment for delay.

VII
Pursuing thence their ancient road again,
They reached a city, with the westering sun;
Which, in the midst of France, from Charlemagne
Marsilius had in that long warfare won:
Nor them to interrupt or to detain,
At drawbridge or at gate, was any one:
Though in the fosse, and round the palisade,
Stood many men, and piles of arms were laid.

VIII
Because the troop about that fortress see
Accompanying him, the well-known dame,
They to Rogero leave the passage free,
Nor even question him from whence he came.
Reaching the square, of evil company
He finds it full, and bright with ruddy flame;
And, in the midst, is manifest to view
The youth condemned, with face of pallid hue.

IX
As on the stripling's face he turns his eyes,
Which hangs declined and wet with frequent tear,
Rogero thinks he Bradamant descries;
So much the youth resembles her in cheer:
More sure the more intently he espies
Her face and shape: when thus the cavalier:
"Or this is Bradamant, or I no more
Am the Rogero which I was before.

X
"She hath adventured with too daring will,
In rescue of the youth condemned to die;
And, for the enterprise had ended ill,
Hath there been taken, as I see. Ah! why
Was she so hot her purpose to fulfil,
That she must hither unattended hie!
-- But I thank Heaven, that hither have I made:
Since I am yet in time to lend her aid."

XI
He drew his falchion without more delay,
(His lance was broken at the other town),
And, though the unarmed people making way,
Wounding flank, paunch, and bosom, bore them down.
He whirled his weapon, and, amid the array,
Smote some across the gullet, cheek, or crown.
Screaming, the dissipated rabble fled;
The most with cloven limbs or broken head.

XII
As while at feed, in full security,
A troop of fowl along the marish wend,
If suddenly a falcon from the sky
Swoop mid the crowd, and one surprise and rend,
The rest dispersing, leave their mate to die,
And only to their own escape attend;
So scattering hadst thou seen the frighted throng,
When young Rogero pricked that crowd among.

XIII
Rogero smites the head from six or four,
Who in escaping from the field are slow.
He to the breast divides as many more,
And countless to the eyes and teeth below.
I grant no helmets on their heads they wore,
But there were shining iron caps enow;
And, if fine helmets did their temples press,
His sword would cut as deep, or little less.

XIV
Such good Rogero's force and valour are,
As never now-a-days in warrior dwell;
Nor yet in rampant lion, nor in bear,
Nor (whether home or foreign) beast more fell.
Haply with him the earthquake might compare,
Or haply the great devil -- not he of hell --
But he who is my lord's, who moves in fire,
And parts heaven, earth, and ocean in his ire.

XV
At every stroke he never less o'erthrew
Than one, and oftener two, upon the plain;
And four, at once, and even five he slew;
So that a hundred in a thought were slain.
The sword Rogero from his girdle drew
As knife cuts curd, divides their plate and chain.
Falerina in Orgagna's garden made,
To deal Orlando death, that cruel blade.

XVI
But to have forged that falchion sorely rued,
Who saw her garden wasted by the brand.
What wreck, what ruin then must have ensued,
From this when wielded by such warrior's hand?
If e'er Rogero force, e'er fury shewed,
If e'er his mighty valour well was scanned,
'Twas here; 'twas here employed; 'twas here displayed;
In the desire to give his lady aid.

XVII
As hare from hound unslipt, that helpless train
Defends itself against the cavalier.
Many lay dead upon the cumbered plain,
And numberless were they who fled in fear.
Meanwhile the damsel had unloosed the chain
From the youth's hands, and him in martial gear
Was hastening, with what speed she might, to deck,
With sword in hand and shield about his neck.

XVIII
He, who was angered sore, as best he cou'd,
Sought to avenge him of that evil crew;
And gave such signal proofs of hardihood,
As stamped him for a warrior good and true.
The sun already in the western flood
Had dipt his gilded wheels, what time the two,
Valiant Rogero and his young compeer,
Victorious issued, of the city clear.

XIX
When now Rogero and the stranger knight,
Clear of the city-gates, the champaigne reach,
The youth repays, with praises infinite,
Rogero in kind mode and cunning speech,
Who him, although unknown, had sought to right,
At risk of life, and prays his name to teach
That he may know to whom his thanks he owed
For such a mighty benefit bestowed.

XX
"The visage of Bradamant I see,
The beauteous features and the beauteous cheer."
Rogero said; "and yet the suavity
I of her well-known accents do not hear:
Nor such return of thanks appears to be
In place towards her faithful cavalier.
And if in very sooth it is the same,
How has the maid so soon forgot my name?"

XXI
In wary wise, intent the truth to find,
Rogero said, "You have I seen elsewhere;
And have again, and yet again, divined,
Yet know I not, nor can remember where.
Say it, yourself, if it returns to mind,
And, I beseech, your name as well declare:
Which I would gladly hear, in the desire
To know whom I have rescued from the fire."

XXII
" -- Me, it is possible you may have seen,
I know not when nor where (the youth replied);
For I too range the world, in armour sheen,
Seeking adventure strange on every side;
Or haply it a sister may have been,
Who to her waist the knightly sword has tied;
Born with me at a birth; so like to view,
The family discerns not who is who.

XXIII
"You not first, second, or even fourth will be,
Who have in this their error had to learn;
Nor father, brother, nor even mother me
From her (such our resemblance) can discern.
'Tis true, this hair, which short and loose you see,
In many guise, and hers, with many a turn,
And in long tresses wound about her brow,
Wide difference made between us two till now.

XXIV
"But since the day, that, wounded by a Moor
In the head (a story tedious to recite)
A holy man, to heal the damsel's sore,
Cut short to the mid-ear her tresses bright,
Excepting sex and name, there is no more
One from the other to distinguish; hight
I Richardetto am, Bradamant she;
Rinaldo's brother and his sister we.

XXV
"And to displease you were I not afraid,
You with a wonder would I entertain,
Which chanced from my resemblance to the maid;
Begun in pleasure, finishing in pain."
He to whom nought more pleasing could be said,
And to whose ears there was no sweeter strain
That what in some sort on his lady ran,
Besought the stripling so, that he began.

XXVI
"It so fell out, that as my sister through
The neighbouring wood pursued her path, a wound
Was dealt the damsel by a paynim crew,
Which her by chance without a helmet found.
And she was fain to trim the locks which grew
Clustering about the gash, to maker her sound
Of that ill cut which in her head she bore:
Hence, shorn, she wandered through the forest hoar.

XXVII
"Ranging, she wandered to a shady font;
Where, worn and troubled, she, in weary wise,
Lit from her courser and disarmed her front,
And, couched upon the greenwood, closed her eyes.
A tale more pleasing than what I recount
In story there is none, I well surmise:
Thither repaired young Flordespine of Spain,
Who in that wood was hunting with her train.

XXVIII
"And, when she found my sister in the shade,
Covered, except her face, with martial gear,
-- In place of spindle, furnished with the blade --
Believed that she beheld a cavalier:
The face and manly semblance she surveyed,
Till conquered was her heart: with courteous cheer
She wooed the maid to hunt with her, and past
With her alone into that hold at last.

XXIX
"When now she had her, fearless of surprise,
Safe in a solitary place, that dame,
By slow degrees, in words and amorous wise,
Showed her deep-wounded heart; with sighs of flame,
Breathed from her inmost breast, with burning eyes,
She spake her soul sick with desire; became
Now pale, now red; nor longer self-controlled,
Ravished a kiss, she waxed so passing bold.

XXX
"My sister was assured the huntress maid
Falsely conceited her a man to be;
Nor in that need could she afford her aid;
And found herself in sore perplexity.
` 'Tis better that I now dispel (she said)
The foolish thought she feeds, and that in me
The damsel should a gentle woman scan,
Rather than take me for a craven man.'

XXXI
"And she said well: for cravenhood it were
Befitting man of straw, not warrior true,
With whom so bright a lady deigned to pair,
So wonderous sweet and full of nectarous dew,
To clack like a poor cuckow to the fair,
Hanging his coward wing, when he should woo,
Shaping her speech to this in wary mode,
My sister that she was a damsel, showed;

XXXII
"That, like Camilla and like Hyppolite,
Sought fame in battle-field, and near the sea,
In Afric, in Arzilla, saw the light;
To shield and spear enured from infancy.
A spark this quenched not; nor yet burned less bright
The enamoured damsel's kindled phantasy.
Too tardy came the salve to ease the smart:
So deep had Love already driven his dart.

XXXIII
"Nor yet less fair to her my sister's face
Appeared, less fair her ways, less fair her guise;
Nor yet the heart returned into its place,
Which joyed itself within those dear-loved eyes.
Flordespine deems the damsel's iron case
To her desire some hope of  ease supplies;
And when she thinks she is indeed a maid,
Laments and sobs, with mighty woe downweighed.

XXXIV
"He who had marked her sorrow and lament,
That day, himself had sorrowed with the fair.
`What pains (she said) did ever wight torment,
So cruel, but that mine more cruel were?
I need not to accomplish my intent,
In other love, impure or pure, despair;
The rose I well might gather from the thorn:
My longing only is of hope forlorn.

XXXV
" `It 'twas thy pleasure, Love, to have me shent,
Because by glad estate thine anger stirred,
Thou with some torture might'st have been content
On other lovers used; but never word
Have I found written of a female bent
On love of female, mid mankind or herd.
Woman to woman's beauty still is blind;
Nor ewe delights in ewe, nor hind in hind.

XXXVI
" `Tis only I, on earth, in air, or sea,
Who suffer at thy hands such cruel pain;
And this thou hast ordained, that I may be
The first and last example in thy reign.
Foully did Ninus' wife and impiously
For her own son a passion entertain;
Loved was Pasiphae's bull and Myrrha's sire;
But mine is madder than their worst desire.

XXXVII
" `Here female upon male had set her will;
Had hope; and, as I hear, was satisfied.
Pasiphae the wooden cow did fill:
Others, in other mode, their want supplied.
But, had he flown to me, -- with all his skill,
Dan Daedalus had not the noose untied:
For one too diligent hath wreathed these strings;
Even Nature's self, the puissantest of things.'

XXXVIII
"So grieves the maid, so goads herself and wears,
And shows no haste her sorrowing to forego;
Sometimes her face, sometimes her tresses tears,
And levels at herself the vengeful blow.
In pity, Bradamant the sorrow shares,
And is constrained to hear the tale of woe,
She studies to divert, with fruitless pain,
The strange and mad desire; but speaks in vain.

XXXIX
"She, who requires assistance, not support,
Still more laments herself, with grief opprest.
By this the waning day was growing short,
For the low sun was crimsoning the west;
A fitting hour for those to seek a port,
Who would not in the wood set up their rest.
When to this city, near her sylvan haunt,
Young Flordespine invited Bradament.

XL
"My sister the request could ill deny;
And so they came together to the place,
Where, but for you, by that ill squadron I
Had been compelled the cruel flame to face:
There Flordespina made her family
Caress and do my sister no small grace;
And, having in a female robe arraid,
Past her on all beholders for a maid.

XLI
"Because perceiving vantage there was none
In the male cheer by which she was misled,
The damsel held it wise, reproach to shun,
Which might by any carping tongue be said.
And this the rather: that the ill, which one
Of the two garments in her mind had bred,
Now with the other which revealed the cheat,
She would assay to drive from her conceit.

XLII
"The ladies share one common bed that night,
Their bed the same, but different their repose.
One sleeps, one groans and weeps in piteous plight,
Because her wild desire more fiercely glows;
And on her wearied eyes should slumber light,
All is deceitful that brief slumber shows.
To her it seems, as if relenting Heaven
A better sex to Bradamant is given.

XLIII
"As the sick man with burning thirst distrest,
If he should sleep, -- ere he that wish fulfil, --
Aye in his troubled, interrupted rest,
Remembers him of every once-seen rill:
So is the damsel's fancy still possest,
In sleep, with images which glad her will.
Then from the empty dreams which crowd her brain,
She wakes, and, waking, finds the vision vain.

XLIV
"What vows she vowed, how oft that night she prayed,
To all her gods and Mahound, in despair!
-- That they, by open miracle, the maid
Would change, and give her other sex to wear.
But all the lady's vows were ill appaid,
And haply Heaven as well might mock the prayer;
Night fades, and Phoebus raises from the main
His yellow head, and lights the world again.

XLV
"On issueing from their bed when day is broken,
The wretched Flordespina's woes augment:
For of departing Bradamant had spoken,
Anxious to scape from that embarrassment.
The princess a prime jennet, as a token,
Forced on my parting sister, when she went;
And gilded housings, and a surcoat brave,
Which her own hand had richly broidered, gave.

XLVI
"Her Flordespine accompanied some way,
Then, weeping, to her castle made return.
So fast my sister pricked, she reached that day
Mount Alban; we who for her absence mourn,
Mother and brother, greet the martial may,
And her arrival with much joy discern:
For hearing nought, we feared that she was dead,
And had remained in cruel doubt and dread.

XLVII
"Unhelmed, we wondered at her hair, which passed
In braids about her brow, she whilom wore;
Nor less we wondered at the foreign cast
Of the embroidered surcoat which she wore:
And she to us rehearsed, from first to last,
The story I was telling you before;
How she was wounded in the wood, and how,
For cure, were shorn the tresses from her brow;

XLVIII
"And next how came on her, with labour spent,
-- As by the stream she slept -- that huntress bright;
And how, with all her false semblance well content,
She from the train withdrew her out of sight.
Nor left she any thing of her lament
Untold; which touched with pity every wight;
Told how the maid had harboured her, and all
Which past, till she revisited her Hall.

XLIX
"Of Flordespine I knew: and I had seen
In Saragossa and in France the maid;
To whose bewitching eyes and lovely mien
My youthful appetite had often strayed:
Yet her I would not make my fancy's queen;
For hopeless love is but a dream and shade:
Now I this proffered in such substance view,
Straitway the ancient flame breaks forth anew.

L
"Love, with this hope, constructs his subtle ties;
Who other threads for me would vainly weave.
'Tis thus he took me, and explained the guise
In which I might the long-sought boon achieve.
Easy it were the damsel to surprise;
For as the likeness others could deceive,
Which I to Bradamant, my sister, bear,
This haply might as well the maid ensnare.

LI
"Whether I speed or no, I hold it wise,
Aye to pursue whatever give delight.
I with no other of my plan devise,
Nor any seek to counsel me aright.
Well knowing where the suit of armour lies
My sister doffed, I thither go at night;
Her armour and her steed to boot I take,
Nor stand expecting until daylight break.

LII
"I rode all night -- Love served me as a guide --
To seek the home of beauteous Flordespine;
And there arrived, before in ocean's tide
The western sun had hid his orbit sheen.
A happy man was he who fastest hied
To tell my coming to the youthful queen;
Expecting from that lady, for his pain,
Favour and goodly guerdon to obtain.

LIII
"For Bradamant the guests mistake me all,
-- As you yourself but now -- so much the more,
That I have both the courser and the pall
With which she left them but the day before.
Flordespine comes at little interval,
With such festivity and courteous lore,
And with a face, so jocund and so gay,
She could not, for her life, more joy display.

LIV
"Her beauteous arms about my neck she throws,
And fondly clasping me, my mouth she kist.
If to my inmost heart the arrow goes,
Which Love directs, may well by you be wist.
She leads me to her chamber of repose
In haste, not suffers others to assist
In taking off my panoply of steel;
Disarming me herself from head to heel.

LV
"Then, ordering from her store a costly vest,
She spread it, and -- as I a woman were --
The lady me in that rich garment drest,
And in a golden net confined my hair.
I gravely moved my eye-balls, nor confest,
By gesture or by look, the sex I bear.
My voice, which might discover the deceit,
I tuned so well that none perceived the cheat.

LVI
"Next to the hall, where dame and cavalier
In crowds are gathered, we united go;
Who make to us such court and goodly cheer,
As men to queen or high-born lady show.
Here oft I laughed at some, with secret jeer,
Who, knowing not the sex concealed below
My flowing robe of feminine array,
Wooed me with wishful eyes in wanton way.

LVII
"When more advanced in now the festive night,
And the rich board -- board plenteously purveyed
With what in season was most exquisite --
Has been some time removed, the royal maid
Expects not till I of myself recite
The cause, which thither me anew conveyed:
By her own courtesy and kindness led,
That lady prays me to partake her bed.

LVIII
"Damsels and dames withdrawn -- with all the rest --
Pages and chamberlains, when now we lay,
One and the other, in our bed undrest,
With kindled torches, counterfeiting day;
`Marvel not, lady,' (her I thus addrest,)
`That I return after such short delay;
For, haply, thou imagined, that again
Thou shouldst not see me until Heaven knows when.

LIX
" `The reason I departed from thy side,
And next of my return, explained shall be.
Could I unto thy fever have applied,
By longer sojourn here, a remedy,
I in thy service would have lived and died,
Nor would have been an hour away from thee:
But seeing how my stay increased thy woe,
I, who could do no better, fixed to go.

LX
" `Into the middle of a wood profound
By chance I from the beaten pathway strayed:
Where near me plaintive cries I hear resound,
As of a woman who intreated aid.
To a lake of crystal I pursue the sound,
And, there, amid the waves, a naked maid
Caught on the fish-hook of a Faun, survey,
Who would devour alive his helpless prey.

LXI
" `Upon the losel, sword in hand, I ran,
And, for I could not aid in other wise,
Bereft of life that evil fisherman.
She in an instant to the water flies.
-- `Me hast thou helped not vainly,' (she began)
And well shalt be rewarded -- with what prize
Thou canst demand -- for know I am a nymph,
And have my dwelling in this crystal lymph;

LXII
" `And power is mine to work portentous ends;
Nature and Elements I force: thy prayer
Shape to the scope to which my strength extends,
And leave its satisfaction to my care.
Charmed by my song the moon from Heaven descends;
Fire can I freeze, and harden liquid air;
And I at times have stopt the sun, and stirred
This earth beneath me by a simple word.'

LXIII
"Treasure I covet not, nor yet aspire
O'er land or people to hold sovereign sway;
Nor greater strength nor valour would acquire,
Nor fame in every warfare bear away;
But only to accomplish thy desire,
Entreat the damsel she will show some way.
Nor one nor other method I forestall;
But to her choice refer me, all in all.

LXIV
"Scarce my demand was made, before mine eye
Beneath the lymph engulphed that lady viewed:
Nor answered she my prayer, but, for reply,
Me with the enchanted element bedewed;
Which has no sooner touched my face than I,
I know not how, am utterly transmewed:
I see, I feel -- yet doubting what I scan --
Feel, I am changed from woman into man.

LXV - LXIX
(Stazas LXV - LXIX untranslated by Rose)

LXX
"The thing remained concealed between us two;
So that our bliss endured some months; at last
We were espied; and, as I sorely rue,
The tidings to the Spanish monarch past.
Thou that whilere preserved'st me from the crew,
Which me into the flames designed to cast,
By this mayst fully comprehend the rest;
But God alone can read my sorrowing breast."

LXXI
So Richardetto spake, and by his say
Made the dark path they trod less irksome be.
Up a small height this while their journey lay,
Girded with cliff and cavern, drear to see.
Bristling with rocks, a steep and narrow way
Was to that rugged hill the stubborn key;
A town, called Agrismonte, crowned the steep,
Which Aldigier of Clermont had in keep.

LXXII
Bastard of Buovo, brother to the pair,
Sir Vivian and Sir Malagigi hight:
Who him Gerardo's lawful son declare,
Are witnesses of little worth and light.
-- This, as it may! -- strong, valiant, wise, and ware,
Liberal, humane, and courteous was the knight;
And on the fortress of its absent lord,
By night and day, kept faithful watch and ward.

LXXIII
His cousin Richardetto, as behoved,
Was courteously received by Aldigier;
Who him as dearly as a brother loved,
And made Rogero for his sake good cheer;
But not with wonted welcome; -- inly moved --
He even wore a visage sad and drear:
For he, that day, ill-tidings had received,
And hence in heart and face the warrior grieved.

LXXIV
To Richardetto he exclaims, instead
Of greeting: "Evil news are hither blown.
By a sure messenger, to-day I read
That faithless Bertolagi of Bayonne,
With barbarous Lanfusa has agreed,
And costly spoils makes over to that crone;
Who will consign to him the brethren twain,
Thy Malagigi and thy Viviane;

LXXV
"These she, since Ferrau took them, aye has stayed
Imprisoned in a dark and evil cell;
Till the discourteous and foul pact was made
With that false Maganzese of whom I tell;
And them to-morrow, to a place conveyed
'Twixt Bayonne and a town of his, will sell
To him, who will be present, to advance
The price of the most precious blood in France.

LXXVI
"One, at a gallop, even now, to report
Tidings to our Rinaldo of the wrong,
I sent; bur fear that he can ill resort
To him in time, the journey is so long.
Men have I not to sally from my fort;
And my power halts where my desire is strong.
The traitor will the knights, if rendered, slay;
Nor know I what to do nor what to say."

LXXVII
Sir Richardetto the ill news displease,
And (as they him) displease in equal wise
Rogero; who, when silent both he sees,
Nor able any counsel to devise,
Exclaims with mickle daring: "Be at ease;
I challenge for myself the whole emprize;
And, to set free your brethren, in my hand
More than a thousand shall avail this brand.

LXXVIII
"I ask not men, I ask not aid; my spear
Is, I believe, sufficient to the feat.
I only ask of you a guide to steer
Me to the place where for the exchange they meet:
I even in this place will make you hear
Their cries, who for that evil bargain threat."
He said; nor to one listener of the twain,
That had helped his actions, spake in vain.

LXXIX
The other heard him not, or heard at most
As we great talkers hear, who little do:
But Richardetto took aside their host
And told how him he from the fire withdrew;
And how he was assured, beyond his boast,
He would in time and place his prowess shew.
'Twas now that better audience than before
Aldigier lent, and set by him great store;

LXXX
And at the feast, where Plenty for the three
Emptied her horn, him honoured as his lord.
Here they conclude they can the brethren free
Without more succour from their gaoler's ward.
This while Sleep seized on lord and family,
Save young Rogero: no repose afford
To him the thoughts, which evermore molest,
And, rankling in his bosom, banish rest.

LXXXI
The siege of Agramant, to him that day
Told by the messenger, he has at heart.
He well discerns that every least delay
Will he dishonour. What a ceaseless smart
Will scorn inflict, what shame will him appay,
If he against his sovereign lord take part?
Oh! what foul cowardice, how foul a crime
His baptism will appear at such a time!

LXXXII
That true religion had the stripling swayed
Men might at any other time conceive:
But now, when needed was the warrior's aid
From siege the Moorish monarch to relieve,
That Fear and Baseness had more largely weighed,
In his designs, would every one believe,
That any preference of a better creed:
This thought makes good Rogero's bosom bleed.

LXXXIII
Nor less to quit his Queen, her leave unsought,
Did with Rogero's other griefs combine:
Now this and now that care upon him wrought;
Which diversely his doubtful heart incline:
The unhappy lover fruitlessly had thought
To find her at the abode of Flordespine;
Whither together went (as told whilere)
To succour Richardetto, maid and peer.

LXXXIV
He next bethinks him of the promise plight
To meet at Vallombrosa's sanctuary,
Deems her gone thither, and that 'twill excite
Her wonderment himself not there to see.
Could he at least a message send or write,
That he with reason might not censured be,
Because not only he had disobeyed,
But was departing hence, and nothing said!

LXXXV
He, having thought on many things, in the end
Resolves on writing what behoves; and, though
He knows not how his letter he shall send,
In the assurance it will safely go,
This hinders not; he thinks that, as they wend,
Chance in his way some faithful Post may throw;
Nor more delays: up leaps the restless knight,
And calls for pen and paper, ink and light.

LXXXVI
That which is needed, in obedience meet,
Aldigier's valets bring, a careful band,
The youth begins to write; and, first, to greet
The maid, as wonted courtesies demand;
Next tells how Agramant has sent to entreat,
In his dispatches, succour at his hand;
And, save he quickly to his comfort goes,
Must needs be slain or taken by his foes.

LXXXVII
Then adds, his sovereign being so bested,
And praying him for succour in his pain,
She must perceive what blame upon his head
Would light, if Agramant applied in vain;
And, since with her he is about to wed,
'Tis fitting he should keep him with stain;
For ill he deems a union could endure
Between aught foul and her to passing pure.

LXXXVIII
And if he erst a name, renowned and clear,
Had laboured to procure by actions fair,
And having gained it thus, he held it dear,
-- If this had sought to keep -- with greater care
He kept it now, -- and with a miser's fear
Guarded the treasure she with him would share;
Who, though distinct in body and in limb,
When wedded, ought to be one soul with him;

LXXXIX
And, as he erst by word, he now explained
Anew by writing, that the period o'er,
For which he was to serve his king constrained,
Unless it were his lot to die before,
He would in deed a Christian be ordained,
As in resolve he had been evermore;
And of her kin, Rinaldo and her sire,
Her afterwards in wedlock would require.

XC
"I would," he said, "relieve, with your good will,
My king, besieged by Charlemagne's array,
That the misjudging rabble, prone to ill,
Might never, to my shame and scandal, say:
Rogero, in fair wind and weather, still
Waited upon his sovereign, night and day,
And now that Fortune to King Charles is fled,
Has with that conquering lord his ensign spread.'

XCI
"I fifteen days or twenty ask, that I
Yet once again may to our army speed;
So that, by me from leaguering enemy
The African cantonments may be freed:
I will some fit and just occasion spy,
Meanwhile, to justify my change of creed,
I for my honour make this sole request;
Then wholly yours for life, in all things, rest."

XCII
Rogero is such words his thoughts exposed,
Which never could by me be fully showed;
And added more, nor from his task reposed,
Until the crowded paper overflowed:
He next the letter folded and enclosed,
And sealed it, and within his bosom stowed;
In hopes to meet next morning by the way
One who might covertly that writ convey.

XCIII
When he had closed the sheet, that amorous knight
His eyelids closed as well, and rest ensued:
For Slumber came and steeped his wearied might
In balmy moisture, from a branch imbued
With Lethe's water; and he slept till -- white
And red -- a rain of flowers the horizon strewed,
Painting the joyous east with colours gay;
When from her golden dwelling broke the day:

XCIV
And when the greenwood birds 'gan, far and wide,
Greet the returning light with gladsome strain,
Sir Aldigier (who wished to be the guide,
Upon that journey, of the warlike twain,
Who would in succour of those brethren ride,
To rescue them from Bertolagi's chain)
Was first upon his feet; and either peer
Issues as well from bed, when him they hear.

XCV
When clad and thoroughly in arms arrayed --
Rogero with the cousins took his way,
Having that pair already warmly prayed
The adventure on himself alone to lay:
But these, by love for those two brethren swayed,
And deeming it discourtesy to obey,
Stood out against his prayer, more stiff than stone,
Nor would consent that he should wend alone.

XCVI
True to the time and place of change, they hie
Whither Sir Aldigier's advices teach;
And there survey an ample band who lie
Exposed to fierce Apollo's heat; in reach,
Nor myrtle-tree nor laurel they descry,
Nor tapering cypress, ash, nor spreading beech:
But naked gravel with low shrubs discerned,
Undelved by mattock and by share unturned.

XCVII
Those three adventurous warriors halted where
A path went through the uncultivated plain,
And saw a knight arrive upon the lair,
Who, flourished o'er with gold, wore plate and chain,
And on green field that beauteous bird and rare,
Which longer than an age extends its reign.
No more, my lord: for at my canto's close
I find myself arrived, and crave repose.

CANTO 26

ARGUMENT
Of mighty matters, sculptured in a font,
Does Malagigi to his comrades tell:
On them come Mandricardo and Rodomont,
And forthwith battle follows fierce and fell.
Discord goes scattering quarrel and affront
Amid the crew: but whither, forced by spell,
Fair Doralice upon her palfrey speeds,
The Tartar king, and Sarzan, turn their steeds.

I
In former ages courteous ladies were,
Who worshipt virtue, and not worldly gear.
Women in this degenerate age are rare,
To whom aught else but sordid gain is dear;
But they who real goodness make their care,
Nor with the avaricious many steer,
In this frail life are worthy to be blest,
-- Held glorious and immortal when at rest.

II
Bradamant well would deathless praise inherit,
Who nor in wealth nor empire took delight;
But in Rogero's worth, excelling spirit,
In his unbounded gentlesse; and aright
For this did good Duke Aymon's daughter merit
To be beloved of such a valorous knight;
Who, what might be for miracles received,
In future ages, for her sake achieved.

III
He, with those two of Clermont, as whilere
To you I in the former canto said,
I say with Richardet and Aldigier,
Was gone, to give the prisoned brethren aid:
I told, as well how they a cavalier
Of haughty look approaching had surveyed,
Who bore that noble bird, by fiery birth
Renewed, and ever single upon earth.

IV
When those three of that warrior were espied,
Poised on the wing, as if about to smite,
He fain by proof their prowess would have tried,
And if their semblance tallied with their might.
"Is there, among you, one," the stranger cried,
"Will prove upon me, which is best in fight,
With lance or sword, till one to ground be cast,
While in the sell his foe is seated fast?"

V
" -- I, at your choice," said Aldigier, "were fain
To flourish faulchion, or to tilt with spear;
But this with feat, which, if you here remain,
Yourself may witness, so would interfere,
That for the present parley time with pain
Suffices, and yet less for the career.
Six hundred men, or more, we here attend,
With whom we must to-day in arms contend.

VI
"Two of our own to rescue from their foes,
And free from chains, us Love and Pity sway."
He to that stranger next the reason shows
Why thus in steel their bodies they array.
"So just is the excuse which you oppose,"
-- He answered -- "that I ill should this gainsay,
And hold you surely for three cavaliers
That seldom upon earth will find their peers.

VII
"With you a lance or two I would have crost
To prove how great your prowess in the field;
But, since 'tis shown me at another's cost,
Forego the joust, and to your reasons yield.
Warmly I pray your leave against that host,
To join with your good arms this helm and shield;
And hope, if suffered of your band to be,
No worthless comrade shall you find in me."

VIII
Some one, meseems, may crave the stranger's name,
Who thus the champions on their road delayed,
And so to partnership in arms laid claim
With those three warriors, for the strife arrayed:
SHE -- style no more a man that martial dame --
Marphisa was; that on Zerbino laid
The task to bear about, against his will,
Ribald Gabrina, prone to every ill.

IX
The two of Clermont and their bold compeer
Gladly received her succour in their cause,
Whom certes they believed a cavalier,
And not a damsel, and not what she was.
A banner was espied by Aldigier
And shown the others, after little pause,
Which by the wavering wind was blown about,
And round about it ranged a numerous rout.

X
And when, now nearer, the advancing crew
Were better marked in Moorish habit stoled,
For Saracens the stranger band they knew;
And they upon two sorry jades behold,
I' the middle of that troop, the prisoners, who
Were to the false Maganza to be sold.
Marphisa cries, "Why is the feast delayed,
When lo! the guests are here, for whom we stayed?"

XI
-- "Not all," Rogero said, "Of the array
Invited, lacks as yet a numerous part:
A solemn festival is held to-day,
And we. to grace it more, use every art:
Yet they can now but little more delay."
While thus they parley, they from other part
Descry the treacherous Maganzese advance;
So all was ready to begin the dance.

XII
They of Maganza from one quarter steer,
And laden mules beneath their convoy go,
Bearing vest, gold, and other costly gear.
On the other side, mid faulchion, spear, and bow,
Approached the captive two with doleful cheer,
Who found themselves awaited by the foe;
And false and impious Bertolagi heard,
As with the Moorish captain he conferred.

XIII
Nor Buovo's nor Duke Aymon's valiant son
Can hold, when that false Maganzese they view;
Against him both with rested lances run:
He falls the victim of those furious two,
Through belly and through pummel pierced by one,
And by the other, in mid visage, through
His bleeding cheeks: may like disastrous fate
O'erwhelm all evil doers, soon or late!

XIV
Marphisa with Rogero moved her horse
At this, nor waited other trumpet-strain;
Nor broke her lance in her impetuous course,
Till in succession three had prest the plain.
A mark well worthy fierce Rogero's force,
The paynim leader in a thought is slain;
And with him, pierced by the same weapon, go
Two others to the gloomy realms below.

XV
'Twas hence a foul mistake the assaulted made;
It caused their utter loss, and ruined all:
They of Maganza deemed themselves betrayed
By the infidels, upon their leader's fall:
On the other side, so charged with hostile blade,
The Moors those Maganzese assassins call;
And, with fierce slaughter, either angry horde
'Gan bend bow, and brandish lance and sword.

XVI
Rogero, charging this, or the other band,
Slays ten or twenty, shifting his career;
No fewer by the warlike damsel's hand
Are slaughtered and extinguished, there and here:
As many men as feel the murderous brand
Are from the saddle seen to disappear:
Before it vanish cuirass, helms and shields,
As the dry wood to fire in forest yields.

XVII
If ever you remember to have viewed,
Or heard, -- what time the wasps divided are,
And all the winged college is at feud,
Mustering their swarms for mischief in mid air, --
The greedy swallow swoop amid that brood,
To mangle and devour, and kill, and tear,
You must imagine so, on either part
The bold Rogero and Marphisa dart.

XVIII
Not so Sir Richardet and Aldigier,
Varied the dance between those squadrons twain;
For, heedless of the Moors, each cavalier
Had but an eye to false Maganza's train.
The brother of Rinaldo, Charles's peer,
Much courage added to much might and main;
And these were now redoubled by the spite,
Which against false Maganza warmed the knight.

XIX
This cause made him who in his fury shared,
Good Buovo's bastard, seems a lion fell;
He, without pause, each trusty helmet pared
With his good blade, or crushed it like the shell
Of brittle egg: and who would not have dared --
Would not have shown a Hector's worth as well,
Having two such companions in the stower,
Of warlike wights the very choice and flower?

XX
Marphisa, waging all the while the fight,
On her companions often turned to gaze,
And as she marked their rivalry in might,
Admiring, upon all bestowed her praise;
But when she on Rogero fixed her sight,
Deemed him unparalleled; and in amaze,
At times believed that Paladin was Mars,
Who left his heaven to mix in mortal wars.

XXI
She marvels at the champion's horrid blows;
She marvels how in vain they never fell.
The iron, smit by Balisarda shows
Like paper, not like stubborn plate and shell.
To pieces helm and solid corslet goes,
And men are severed, even to the sell;
Whom into equal parts those strokes divide,
Half dropt on this, and half on the other side.

XXII
With the same downright stroke, he overbore
The horse and rider, bleeding in the dust;
The heads of others from their shoulders bore,
And parted from the hips the bleeding bust.
He often at a blow cleft five and more;
And -- but I doubt who hears me might distrust
What of a seeming falsehood bears the impress --
I would say more; but I parforce say less.

XXIII
Good Turpin, he who knows that he tells true,
And leaves men to believe what they think right,
Says of Rogero wondrous things, which you
Hearing related, would as falsehoods slight.
Thus, with Marphisa matched, that hostile crew
Appears like ice, and she like burning light.
Nor her Rogero with less marvel eyes,
That she had marked his valour with surprise.

XXIV
As she had Mars in bold Rogero seen,
Perhaps Bellona he had deemed the maid,
If for a woman he had known that queen,
Who seemed the contrary, in arms arrayed;
And haply emulation had between
The pair ensued, by whom with cruel blade
Most deadly signs of prowess should be shown,
Mid that vile herd, on sinew, flesh and bone.

XXV
To rout each hostile squadron, filled with dread,
Sufficed the soul and valour of the four;
Nor better arms remained for them who fled
Than the sharp goads which on their heels they wore.
Happy was he with courser well bested!
By trot or amble they set little store;
And he who had no steed, here learned, dismayed,
How wretched is the poor foot-soldier's trade.

XXVI
The conqueror's prize remained both field and prey;
Nor was there footman left nor muleteer;
The Moor took this, Maganza took that way;
One leaves the prisoners, and one leaves the gear.
With visage glad, and yet with heart more gay,
The four united each captive cavalier;
Nor were less diligent to free from chains
The prisoned pages, and unload the wains.

XXVII
Besides good quantity of silver fine,
Wrought into different vessels, with a store
Of feminine array, of fair design,
Embroidered round about with choicest lore,
And suit of Flemish tapestry, framed to line
Royal apartments, wrought with silk and ore --
-- They, 'mid more costly things in plenty spread --
Discovered flasks of wine, and meat and bread.

XXVIII
When now the conquering troop their temples bare,
All see they have received a damsel's aid,
Known by her curling locks of golden hair,
And delicate and beauteous face displayed:
Her the knights honoured much, and to declare
Her name, so well deserving glory, prayed;
Nor she, that ever was of courteous mood
Among her friends, their instances withstood.

XXIX
With viewing her they cannot sate their eyes,
Who in the battle such had her espied,
She speaks but with the Child, but him descries;
None prizes, values none, 'twould seem, beside.
Meanwhile that ready spread a banquet lies,
To them is by the servants notified.
This they had served about a neighbouring fountain,
Screened from the sun by an o'ershadowing mountain.

XXX
This spring was one of those four fountains rare,
Of those in France produced by Merlin's sleight;
Encompassed round about with marble fair,
Shining and polished, and then milk more white.
There in the stone choice figures chisseled were,
By that magician's godlike labour dight;
Save voice was wanting, these you might have thought
Were living and with nerve and spirit fraught.

XXXI
Here, to appearance, from the forest prest
A cruel Beast and hideous to the eye,
With teeth of wolf, an ass's head and crest,
A carcass with long famine lean and dry,
And lion's claws; a fox in all the rest:
Which seemed to ravage France and Italy,
And Spain and England's desolated strands,
Europe and Asia, and in fine all lands.

XXXII
The beast the low and those of proudest port
Had slain or maimed throughout this earthly ball;
Yea, fiercest seemed on those of noble sort,
Sovereign and satrap, prince and peer, to fall;
And made most havoc in the Roman court;
For it had slaughtered Pope and Cardinal:
Had filled St. Peter's beauteous seat with scathe,
And brought foul scandal on the HOLY FAITH.

XXXIII
Whate'er she touches, wall or rampire steep,
Goes to the ground' where'er the monster wends,
Each fortress opens; neither castle-keep,
Nor city from her rage its wealth defends.
Honours divine as well that Beast would reap,
It seems (while the besotted rabble bends)
And claim withal, as to its keeping given,
The sacred keys which open Hell and Heaven.

XXXIV
Approaching next, is seen a cavalier,
His temples circled with imperial bay;
Three youths with him in company appear,
With golden lilies wrought in their array:
A lion seems against that monster drear
To issue, with the same device as they:
The name of these are on the marble read,
Some on their skirt, some written overhead.

XXXV
Of those who so against Beast advance,
One to the hilt has in his life-blood dyed
His faulchion, Francis styled the first of France;
With Austrian Maximilian at his side:
In one, who gores his gullet with the lance,
The emperor Charles the fifth is signified:
Henry the eighth of England is he hight,
Who in the monster's breast a dart has pight.

XXXVI
The TENTH, in writing, on his back displayed
The Lion, who that Beast is seen to hold
By both his ears, and him so well has bayed,
That thither troop assistants manifold.
'Twould seem the world all fear aside has laid;
And, in amendment of their errors old,
Thitherward nobles troop, but these are few;
And so that hideous Beast those hunters slew.

XXXVII
In wonder stood long time that warlike train,
Desirous, as the storied work they traced,
To know by hands of whom that Beast was slain,
Which had so many smiling lands defaced,
The names unknown to them, though figured plain
Upon the marble which that fountain cased:
They one another prayed, if any guessed
That story, he would tell it to the rest.

XXXVIII
Vivian on Malagigi turned his eyes,
Who listening stood this while, yet spake he nought.
"With thee," he cried, "to tell the meaning lies,
Who are they, by whose darts and lances dies
That shouldst by what I see in this be taught:
The hideous monster, that to bay is brought?"
-- And Malagigi -- "Hitherto their glory
No author has consigned to living story.

XXXIX
"The chiefs whose names are graved upon the stone,
Not yet have moved upon this worldly stage;
But will within seven hundred years be known,
To the great honour of a future age.
What time king Arthur filled the British throne,
This fountain Merlin made, enchanter sage;
Who things to come upon the marble fair
Made sculpture by a cunning artist's care.

XL
"This Beast, when weights and measures first were found,
Came out of nether hell; when on the plain,
Common before, men fixed the landmark's bound,
And fashioned written pacts with jealous pain;
Yet walked not every where, at first, her round:
Unvisited she left yet many a reign:
Through diverse places in our time she wends;
But the vile rabble and the crowd offends.

XLI
"From the beginning even to our day,
Aye has that monster grown, and aye will grow;
And till much time be past will grow alway:
Was never mightier, nor worse cause of woe.
That Python, oft the theme of ancient lay,
So passing wonderful and fierce in show,
Came not by half this loathsome monster nigh,
In all its foulness and deformity.

XLII
"Dread desolation shall it make; nor place
Will unpolluted or untainted be;
And you in the mysterious sculptured trace
But little of its foul iniquity.
The world, when weary of imploring grace,
Those worthy peers (whose names you sculptured see,
And which shall blazing carbuncle outshine),
To succour in its utmost need combine.

XLIII
"No one shall more that cruel beast molest
Than Francis, who the realm of France will steer,
Who justly shall be forward in this quest,
Whom none shall go beyond, whom few shall peer
Since he in splendour, as in all the rest,
Wanting in worth, will many make appear
Who whilom perfect seemed; so fade and yield
All lesser glories to the sun revealed.

XLIV
"In the first year of his successful reign,
The crown yet ill secure upon his front,
He threads the Alps, and makes their labour vain,
Who would against his arms maintain the Mount.
Impelled by generous and by just disdain,
The unavenged as yet is that affront,
Which a French army suffered from their rage,
Who poured from beast-cote, field, and pasturage:

XLV
"And thence shall into the rich Lombard plain
Descend, with all the flower of France, and so
Shall break the Switzer, that henceforth in vain
Would he uplift his horn against the foe.
To the sore scandal of the Church and Spain,
And to the Florentine's much scathe and woe,
By him that famous castle shall be quelled,
Which inexpugnable whilere was held.

XLVI
"In quelling it his honoured faulchion, more
Than other arms, availing shall be found;
Which first that cruel Beast to death will gore,
The foul destroyer of each country round:
Parforce will every standard fly before
That conquering faulchion, or be cast to ground:
Nor, stormed by it, will rampart, fosse, or wall,
Secure the city, they surround, from fall.

XLVII
"Imbued with every generous quality,
Which can in great commander be combined,
-- Prudence like his who won Thrasymenae
And Trebbia's field, with Caesar's daring mind,
And Alexander's fortune, him I see;
Without which all designs are mist and wind;
Withal, so passing liberal, I in none
Mark his example or his parragon."

XLVIII
So Malagigi to his comrades said,
And moved in them desire some name to hear
Of others, who had laid that monster dead,
Which to slay others had been used whilere.
Among the first Bernardo's name was read,
Much vaunted in the writing of the Seer:
Who said, "Through him as known as Bibbiena
As her own neighbour Florence and Siena.

XLIX
"More forward in this chase shall no one show
Than Sigismond, than Lewis, and than John;
Each to that hideous beast a cruel foe;
One a Gonzaga, one of Arragon,
And one a Salviati: with them go
Francis Gonzaga and Frederick his son:
Brother and son-in-law, their aid afford;
One chief Ferrara's, one Urbino's lord.

L
"Of one of these the son, Sir Guidobald,
Will not by sire, or other, distanced be:
With Ottobon de Flisco, Sinibald
Chases the Beast, both striving equally:
Lewis de Gazolo its neck has galled
With one of those keen darts, Apollo's fee,
Given with his bow, what time as well his glaive,
The god of war, to gird that warrior, gave.

LI
"Two Hercules and two Hippolyti
Of Este, a Hercules and Hippolyte
Of the Gonzagas' and the Medici,
Hunt and fatigue the monster in his flight:
Nor Julian lets his good son pass him by;
Nor bold Ferrant his brother; nor less wight
Is Andrew Doria; nor by any one
Is Francis Sforza in the chase outdone.

LII
"Of good Avalo's glorious lineage bred,
Two chiefs that mountain for their bearing show,
Which, hiding him, from dragon-feet to head,
The wicked Typheus seems to keep below.
'Mid those combined, to lay the monster dead,
Shall none more forward than this couple go:
Him Francis of Pescara names the text;
Alphonso, hight of Guasto, is the next.

LIII
"But where leave I Gonsalvo Ferrant, who
Is held in such esteem, the pride of Spain?
So praised by Malagigi, that him few
Equal among the worthies of that train.
William, surnamed of Monferrato, view
'Mid those that have the hideous monster slain:
But these are few compared with numbers round,
Whom that despiteous Beast shall kill or wound."

LIV
To converse gay the friends themselves addrest,
And seemly pastimes, when their meal was done,
Through the hot noontide, and fine carpets prest,
'Mid shrubs, by which the limpid river run.
Vivian and Malagigi, that the rest
Might be more tranquil, watched with armour on;
When unaccompanied they saw a dame,
Who quickly towards their place of shelter came;

LV
Hippalca she; from whom was torn away
Frontino, that good horse, by Rodomont:
Him had she long pursued the former day,
And now with prayer, now followed with affront.
Which booting nought, she had retraced her way,
To seek Rogero out in Agrismont;
And, how I know not, heard upon her round,
He here with Richardetto would be found.

LVI
And, for to her well known was that repair,
Used by her often, she herself addrest
Towards the fount, and in that quarter fair
Found him, and in what manner, was exprest;
But like embassadress, who -- wise and ware --
Better than was enjoined performs a hest,
When Richardetto she beheld, made show
As if she good Rogero did not know.

LVII
She turned her wholly to Sir Richardet,
As bound direct to him; and, on his side,
He who well knew her, straight uprose and met,
And asked that damsel whitherward she hied.
Hippalca, with her eyes yet red and wet
From her long weeping, sighing deeply, cried,
But cried aloud, that young Rogero, near
The warrior she addrest, her tale might hear:

LVIII
"I from Mount Alban with a courser sped;
(So your good sister had commanded me)
A horse much loved by her, and highly bred;
Frontino is yclept that charger free;
And him I more than thirty miles had led
Towards Marseilles, where she designed to be
Within few days; by her enjoined to wend
Thither, and her arrival there attend.

LIX
"I in the sure belief pursued my course,
Was none so stout of heart, if I should say
How Sir Rinaldo's sister owned the horse,
He would presume to take that steed away.
But vain was my design; for him parforce
A Saracen took from me yesterday:
Nor, when to him his master's name I read,
Will that bold robber render back the steed.

LX
"Him I to-day and all the day before
Have prayed, and prayer and menace proving vain,
Aye cursing him and execrating sore,
Have left at little distance; where, with pain,
Both to his courser and himself, the Moor,
As best he can, a combat does maintain
Against a knight, who him so hard has prest,
I trust my injury shall be redrest."

LXI
At this Rogero, leaping on his feet,
Who scarcely had endured the whole to hear,
To Richardetto turned; and, as a meet
Guerdon for his good deed, the cavalier
Did, with beseechings infinite, entreat
To let him singly with that damsel steer,
Until she showed the paynim, who by force
Had wrested from her hands that goodly horse.

LXII
Richardet (though it seems discourtesy
To yield to other champion that emprize,
Which by himself should terminated be)
Yet with Rogero's earnest suit complies;
Who takes farewell of that good company,
And with the damsel on her journey hies.
And leaves those others, whom his feats confound,
Not merely lost in wonder, but astoud.

LXIII
To him Hippalca said, when she apart
Had drawn him to some distance from the rest,
She was dispatched by her that in her heart
Bore of his worth the image so imprest;
-- And added, without using farther art,
All that her lady had to him addrest;
And if she told another tale whilere,
Of Richardetto she was then in fear.

LXIV
She added how the author of that deed
Had also said to her with mickle pride;
"Because I know Rogero owns the steed,
More willingly I take him from his guide.
If he would repossess the courser, read
To him what I have no desire to hide,
I am that Rodomont, whose martial worth
Scatters its splendour through this ample earth."

LXV
Listening, the visage of the youthful knight
Showed with what rage his heart was in a flame,
As well as that the horse was his delight;
As well upon account of whence it came;
And also that 'twas reft in his despite;
He sees dishonour will ensue and blame,
Save he from Rodomont redeems the prey,
And with a due revenge that wrong repay.

LXVI
With him, without repose, the damsel rides,
Who with his foe would bring him front to front;
And thither journies where the road divides,
And one branch cuts the plain, one climbs the mount,
And either pathway to that valley guides,
Where she had newly left King Rodomont,
The mountain track was short, but trod with pain;
That other longer far, but smooth and plain.

LXVII
Hippalca's ardour to retrieve the prey,
And upon Rodomont's avenge the wrong,
Incites that maid the mountain to assay;
By which (as said) the journey was less long:
While Mandricardo, Rodomont, and they
Of whom I erst made mention in my song,
That easier track across the level hold;
And thus encounter not Rogero bold.

LXVIII
Until King Agramant shall succoured be,
Suspended is their quarrel (in what wise
You know), and in the champions' company
Doralice, cause of all their discord, hies.
Now hear the upshot of this history!
Their way directly by that fountain lies,
Beside whose margin are in pastime met
Marphisa and Aldigier and Richardet.

LXIX
Marphisa had, at her companions' prayer,
Cloathed her in female ornaments and vest,
Of those, which by Maganza's traitour were
Late to Lanfusa, in full trust, addrest;
And, though the appearance of that maid was rare
Without her corslet, casque and all the rest,
-- At their entreaty, these for once laid down --
She deigned to seem a maid and donned the gown.

LXX
As soon as Mandricardo saw her face,
In trust that, could he win her in affray,
He would that maid, in recompense and place
Of Doralice, to Rodomont convey;
As if Love trafficked in such contracts base,
And lover could his lady change away,
Nor yet with reason at the event be pained,
If he in losing one another gained.

LXXI
Hence with a damsel to provide the peer,
That he himself the other may retain;
Deeming her worthy any cavalier,
He would by force of arms the maid obtain;
And, as if he could suddenly hold dear
This maid as that, on him bestow the gain;
And all of those, whom he about her spied,
Forthwith to joust and single fight defied.

LXXII
Vivian and Malagigi (who were dight
In arms, as guard and surety for the rest,)
One and the other champion -- prompt for fight,
Rose lightly from the herbage which they prest,
Deeming they had to joust with either knight;
But Rodomont, who came not on this quest,
No motion made as he a course would run;
So that they had to tourney but with one.

LXXIII
Sir Vivian is the first who moves his horse,
With mighty heart, and lays his weapon low;
And he, that Tartar king, renowned for force,
With greater puissance meets the coming foe.
His lance each warrior levels in the course
Where he bests trusts to plant the furious blow.
Vainly Sir Vivian's spear the casque offends;
Nor throws that paynim knight, nor even bends.

LXXIV
That Tartar's harder weapon makes the shield
Of Vivian, at their onset, fly like grass;
And, tumbling from his saddle on the field,
Extends the champion amid flowers and grass.
To run his chance Sir Malagigi, steeled,
Did to his brother's succour quickly pass;
But (such that warrior's hurry to be near)
Rather accompanied, than venged the peer.

LXXV
The other of those brethren armed before
His cousin, and had backed his courser wight;
And, having first defied, encountered sore,
Spurring with flowing rein, the stranger knight.
Against the tempered helm that pagan wore
Sounded the blow, an inch below the sight:
Heaven-high the truncheon flew, in fragments broke,
But the stout pagan winced not for the stroke.

LXXVI
Him on the left side smote that paynim peer,
And (for the blow was with huge force designed)
Little his shield, and less his iron gear,
Availed, which opened like the yielding rhind:
The weapon pierced his shoulder; Aldigier
Now right now left upon his horse inclined;
Then him, 'mid grass and flowers, his comrades view,
With arms of crimson, face of pallid, hue.

LXXVII
Next Richardetto comes, and for the blow
Intended, levels such a mighty lance,
He showed himself, as he was wont to show,
Worthy to be a paladin of France;
And has stamped signs of this upon the foe.
If he had warred on him with equal chance;
But prostrate rolled, encumbered by his steed;
Nor fell the courser through his lord's misdeed.

LXXVIII
When knight appeared not on the other side,
Who should in joust the paynim king affront,
He thought the damsel was his prize, and hied
Thither, where she was seated by the fount.
And -- "Lady, you are mine," the Tartar cried,
"Save other champion in your succour mount;
Nor can you make denial or excuse,
Since such the right of war and common use."

LXXIX
Marphisa raised her face with haughty cheer,
And answered him: "Thy judgment wanders far;
I will concede thy sentence would be clear,
Concluding I am thine by right of war,
If either were my lord or cavalier
Of those, by thee unhorsed in bloody jar:
Nor theirs am I, nor other's, but my own,
Who wins me, wins me from myself alone.

LXXX
"I too with lance and sword do doughty deed,
And more than one good knight on earth have laid.
-- Give me," she cried, "my armour and my steed."
And readily her squires that hest obeyed:
Then in her waistcoat stood, of flowing weed
Despoiled, with well-knit from and charms displayed;
And in all points (such strength she shewed and grace)
Resembled heavenly Mars, except her face.

LXXXI
The damsel donned her sword, when armed all o'er,
And on her courser leapt with nimble spring;
And, right and left, she made him, thrice or more
Poised on his haunches, turn in narrow ring.
And, levelling the sturdy lance she bore,
Defied, and next assailed, the Tartar king.
So combating with Peleus' son, of yore,
Penthesilaea warred on Trojan shore.

LXXXII
Like brittle crystal, in that proud career,
The weapons at the rest to pieces went;
Yet neither of those warriors, 'twould appear,
Backwards one inch at their encounter bent.
Marphisa, who would willingly be clear
What of a closer fight would be the event,
For a new combat with the paynim lord,
Wheeled, to attack that warrior with the sword.

LXXXIII
That Tartar cursed the elements and sky,
When her he saw remaining in her sell;
And she, who thought to make his buckler fly,
Cursed heaven as loudly as that infidel.
Already were their faulchions raised on high,
Which on the enchanted arms like hammers fell:
Enchanted arms both combatants enclose,
Never more needed by those deadly foes.

LXXXIV
So perfect are the champions' plate and chain,
They thrust or cut of spear or faulchion stay;
So that the two the battle might maintain,
Throughout this and throughout another day:
But Rodomont leaps in between the twain,
And taxes Mandricardo with delay;
Crying, "If battle here is to be done,
Finish we that which we to-day begun.

LXXXV
"We made a truce, thou knowest, upon pact
Of furnishing our baffled forces aid;
Nor foe in joust or fight can be attacked
By us with justice till this debt be paid."
Then to Marphisa he in reverent act
Addressed himself, and of that courier said;
And next recounted to the martial dame,
How seeking aid for Agramant he came.

LXXXVI
Next prays not only with that Tartar knight
She will abandon or defer the fray;
But that, Troyano's valiant son to right,
She will, together with them, wend her way;
By which her warlike fame a higher flight,
More easily may, even to heaven, assay,
Than in a quarrel of such paltry guise,
Which offers hindrance to such fair emprize.

LXXXVII
Marphisa, who had evermore in thought
To prove the paladins of Charles, and who
To France was over land and ocean brought,
From clime so distant, with no other view,
Than by her own experience to be taught
If their far-spread renown were false or true,
Resolved together with the troop to speed,
As soon as she had heard their monarch's need.

LXXXVIII
Meanwhile Rogero, with that guiding may,
Had vainly by the rugged pathway sped;
Who that king Rodomont another way
Had taken, when he reached the mountain, read;
And thinking, that he was not far away,
And the road straight towards that fountain led,
Trotting in haste behind the Sarzan hied,
Where he new prints upon the path espied.

LXXXIX
Hippalca he to Mont Albano prayed,
To wend, which distant one day's journey lies;
Because to seek anew that fountain-glade,
Would be to wander in too wide a guise.
And that she need not doubt withal, he said,
But that he would retrieve the ravished prize.
And, were she in Mount Alban -- or where'er --
Vowed she the tidings speedily should hear,

XC
And gave the letter to that maid to bear,
Which, writ by him, he in his bosom wore,
And added many matters, with the prayer,
She would excuse him by her friendly lore.
Hippalca in her memory fixt, with care,
The whole; took leave, and turned her horse once more:
Nor ceased that faithful messenger to ride
Till she Mount Alban reached at evening-tide.

XCI
Rogero followed fast the paynim knight,
Tracked o'er the level by those footsteps new,
But overtook him not, till he got sight,
Beside the fount, of Mandricardo too.
Already either had his promise plight,
He nought unknown to his compeer would do,
Till they had succour to that host conveyed,
On which King Charles his yoke had nearly laid.

XCII
Arrived, Rogero knew Frontino gay,
And, through that courser, knew the knight astride;
And on his lance with bending shoulder lay,
And in fierce tone the African defied.
Job was outdone by Rodomont that day,
In that the king subdued his haughty pride,
And the fell fight which he had ever used
To seek with every instance, he refused.

XCII
The first day this and last, that e'er in fight
King Rodomont refused his part to bear!
But his desire appeared to him so right,
In succour of his sovereign to repair;
That if he had believed he clutched the knight
Faster than nimble leopard gripes the hare,
He not so far his purpose would forego,
As on his prey to waste a passing blow.

XCIV
Add, that he knows Rogero is the peer
Who him for good Frontino now assails;
-- So famous, that no other cavalier
Like him such eminence of glory scales;
-- The man, of whom he gladly would be clear,
By proof, how much in battle he avails:
Yet shuns the combat, proffered on his part;
So much his monarch's siege has he at heart.

XCV
Three hundred miles, a thousand, would he ride,
-- Were it not so -- to purchase such affray;
But he, if him Achilles had defied,
Had done no otherwise than as I say;
So deeply did the covering ashes hide
That fire beneath, whose fury stifled lay:
He told why he refused the strife; and prayed,
As well Rogero the design to aid.

XCVI
Adding that he, in doing so, would do
What to his lord a faithful vassal owes;
Still, when the siege was raised, might they renew
And terminate their deadly strife by blows.
To him Rogero cried, "The fight with you
I freely will defer, till from his foes
King Agramant be rescued by the sword;
Provided first Frontino be restored.

XCVII
"Would you that I delay to prove by deed,
That you have acted in unworthy sort,
-- Nor did, like valiant man, to take my steed
Thus from a woman -- till we meet at court,
Render me my Frontino back, or read,
Upon no other ground, will I support
That battle shall not be between us two;
Nor will accord an hour of truce to you."

XCVIII
While of that African he so demands
Frontino, or him threats with instant fray;
And either still the other's claim withstands,
Nor this the steed will grant, nor that delay;
King Mandricardo stirs, on the other hand,
Another strife; who sees that ensign gay
Rogero on his shield was wont to wear,
The bird which reigns o'er other fowls of air.

XCIX
He bore on azure field that eagle white,
The beauteous ensign of the Trojan throng:
Such glorious bearing showed that youthful knight,
Because he drew his line from Hector strong.
But Mandricardo knew not of this right,
Nor would endure -- and deemed a crying wrong,
That any other but himself should wield
Famed Hector's argent eagle on his shield.

C
King Mandricardo is like blazon wore
The bird of Ide, which bore off Ganymede:
How in the castle perilous of yore,
He gained that noble ensign for his meed,
-- That enterprize I ween, with matter more,
You bear in mind, and how, for his good deed,
The fairy gave it him with all the gear,
Erst given by Vulcan to the Trojan peer.

CI
The Tartar and Rogero had before
Engaged in battle, only on this quest,
Divided by what accident, my lore
Recites not, as already manifest:
Nor had till now those knights encountered more:
When Mandricardo sees that bird imprest
On the Child's shield, he shouts with threatening cry
To young Rogero: "Take my proud defy!"

CII
"Audacious man, mine ensign do'st thou wear,
Nor this to-day for the first time, is said;
And think'st thou, madman, I will thee forbear,
Because for once to spare thee I was led?
But since nor menace nor yet counsel are
Of force to drive this folly from thy head,
It shall appear how much it had been best
For thee forthwith to have obeyed my hest."

CIII
"As fire, whereon dry, heated wood is strown,
Roused by a little puff, at once ascends,
So burns Rogero's wrath, to fury blown,
By the first word with which that king offends.
"Thou thinkest," he exclaims, "to bear me down,
Because his knight as well with me contends:
But learn that I can win in fighting field
From him the horse, from thee good Hector's shield.

CIV
"Yet once before -- nor is it long ago --
Twixt us in battle was this question tried:
But I that day restrained the murderous blow,
Because thou hadst no faulchion at thy side.
These shall be deeds, that strife was but a show;
And ill this argent bird shall thee betide;
This is the ancient bearing of my line;
Tis thou usurpest what by right is mine."

CV
-- "Say rather, thou usurpest mine from me";
Cried Mandricardo; and that faulchion drew,
Which lately, underneath the greenwood tree,
Orlando from his hand in fury threw.
The Child, who could not aught but courteous be,
(Such was his gentle nature) at the view
Of Mandricardo, with his faulchion drawn,
Let fall his ready lance upon the lawn;

CVI
And at the same time, strained his goodly sword;
And better braced the covering shield he wore:
But 'twixt those combatants leapt Argier's lord,
And quick Marphisa spurred the pair before;
And one this foe, the other that implored,
And both besought, that they would strive no more.
King Rodomont complains the Tartar knight
Has violated twice the compact plight.

CVII
First, in belief he should Marphisa gain,
He more than once had jousted for that fair;
Now to bear off Rogero's ensign fain,
He for king Agramant shows little care.
-- "If thus" (said Rodomont) "you faith maintain,
To finish our own combat better were,
A cause of strife more fitting and more due
Than either of the pleas maintained by you.

CVIII
"On this condition was the treaty plight,
And the accord between us now in force;
When I with thee shall have performed the fight,
I next shall answer him about the horse:
You then with him, if you survive, your right
Shall to the shield maintain in warlike course.
But I such work shall give you, I conceive,
As will small labour for Rogero leave."

CIX
-- "The bargain which thou hopest thou shalt not have,"
(King Mandricardo answered Rodomont)
"I will accord thee more than thou do'st crave,
And trust to make thee sweat from feet to front.
And to bestow on others, much shall save,
As water never fails in plenteous font;
And for Rogero and a thousand more,
And all the world beside reserve a store."

CX
Their fury waxed, and angrier words ensued,
Now upon this and now upon that side.
With Rodomont and with the Child at feud,
Fierce Mandricardo both at once defied.
Rogero, not endowed with suffering mood,
Would hear no more of peace, but vengeance cried.
Now here Marphisa hurried, and now there,
But could not singly such an ill repair.

CXI
As peasant, when a river saps its mounds,
And seeking vent the oozing waters drop,
Hastening to shut the stream within its bounds,
And save his pastures and expected crop,
Dams right and left; yet him the stream confounds:
For, if he here the sinking ruin prop,
There he beholds the rotten dyke give out,
And from thick seams the restless water spout,

CXII
So, while the Tartar and Rogero rage,
And Rodomont, in hurly-burly fray,
For each of these would fiercest battle wage,
And would outgo his fears in that assay,
Marphisa seeks their fury to assuage,
And strives, and time and trouble throws away;
For as she makes one knight from strife retire,
She sees the others re-engage with ire.

CXIII
Marphisa, to appease the warriors bent,
Exclaimed, "Sirs, listen to my better lore;
A good remembrance 'tis, all argument
To leave until we Agramant restore.
If each is on his own design intent,
With Mandricardo will I strive once more;
And fain would see, according to his word,
If he can conquer me with spear and sword.

CXIV
"But if, to aid our sovereign, duty call,
Him let us aid, nor civil discord breed."
-- "To ground, through me, such project shall not fall,"
Rogero said, "so he restore my steed.
Let him resign that horse, or -- once for all.
I say again -- to his defence take heed.
I either here my parting breath will yield,
Or on my courser will return afield."

CXV
-- "Twere not so easy to obtain this quest
As 'twere that other," Rodomont replied;
And thus pursued: "I unto thee protest,
If any evil shall our king betide,
Thine is the fault not mine; for I am prest
To do whate'er is fitting, on my side."
Small heed to that protest Rogero paid,
And stung by fury, griped his trenchant blade.

CXVI
On Argier's king he sprang, like savage boar,
Encountering him with shoulder and with shield;
And him disordered and distrest so sore,
That with one stirrup's loss, the monarch reeled.
-- "Rogero," Mandricardo cried, "give o'er,
Or else with me divide the battle-field";
And struck, this said, with worse than felon spite,
Upon the morion of that youthful knight.

CXVII
Even to his courser's neck Rogero bends;
Nor, when he would, himself can rear;
Because the sword of Ulien's son descends
As well upon the youthful cavalier;
And, but that adamant his face defends,
Across the cheeks his tempered helm would sheer.
The Child, in anguish, opens either hand;
And this the bridle drops and that the brand.

CXVIII
Him o'er the field his courser bears away;
On earth the faulchion lies, which he let go:
Marphisa (with Rogero's through that day,
Comrade in arms) appeared like fire to glow,
Enraged, that two one knight should overlay;
And, as magnanimous and stout, for foe
Singled King Mandricardo out, and sped,
With all her might, stroke upon his head.

CXIX
Rodomont o'er the plain pursues his man.
-- Another stroke, and he has lost the horse!
But Richardetto drives, and Vivian,
Between the Child and paynim in that course.
This warrior at the king of Argier ran,
And from Rogero severed him by force;
That (it was Vivian) in Rogero's hand,
Now from the blow recovered, placed his brand.

CXX
As soon as to himself the Child returns,
And is by Vivian armed with sword again,
To venge the injury that stripling burns,
And runs at Rodomont with flowing rein,
Like lion, whom a bull upon his horns
Has lifted, though he feels this while no pain,
So him his heat of blood, disdain, and ire,
To venge that cruel outrage goad and fire.

CXXI
Rogero storms upon the paynim's crest;
And, could that knight recover his own brand,
Which by foul felony (as erst exprest)
Was ravished from the youthful warrior's hand,
I well believe that the descending pest
Rodomont's iron casque will ill withstand;
That casque which Babel's king bade forge, who sought
To war on Heaven in his presumptuous thought.

CXXII
Discord, believing nothing could ensue
But stir, and strife, and combat on that head;
And that there was no place, amid the crew,
For truce or treaty, to her sister said,
That she, her well-beloved monks to view,
Might now again with her securely tread.
Let them depart; and mark we where in front
Rogero has sore wounded Rodomont.

CXXIII
Rogero's blow was levelled with such spite,
That this upon Frontino's crupper made
The helmet and the shell of iron smite,
In which that Saracen his limbs arrayed;
And he, three times or four, to left and right,
-- As if about to fall -- head-foremost, swayed;
And would have lost withal his trusty brand,
But that the hilt was fastened to his hand.

CXXIV
Marphisa has king Mandricardo prest
Meanwhile, and makes him sweat breast, front, and face;
And he Marphisa has as sore distrest:
But such good plates each valiant bosom case,
Impassable is either iron vest;
And both have hitherto maintained their place.
But, at a turn her martial courser made,
Marphisa needed young Rogero's aid.

CXXV
Marphisa's martial steed, in turning short,
Where a firm footing that soft mead denied,
On the moist surface slipt, and in such sort,
That he fell, helpless, on his better side;
And, as he rose in haste and lacked support,
Athwart by furious Brigliador was plied;
On which the paynim, little courteous, came;
So that he fell anew beneath the dame.

CXXVI
Rogero, when Marphisa on the ground
He saw unhorsed, deferred no more his aid;
Who for that deed had leisure; since, astound,
Rodomont far away had been conveyed:
He smote the morion which that Tartar crowned;
And, cleft like stalk, his head on earth had laid,
Had he his trusty Balisarda born,
Or Mandricardo other helmet worn.

CXXVII
Rodomont, of his senses repossest,
Turned round this while, and Richardetto spied;
And recollecting how, when late distrest,
He to Rogero succour had supplied,
Quickly against that youthful warrior prest;
Who an ill guerdon would from him abide,
Did Malagigi not his malice thwart
With other magic and with mickle art.

CXXVIII
Sage Malagigi versed in every sleight
Which by the wisest wizard can be done;
Although his book he has not, by whose might,
He in his course can stop the passing sun;
The conjuration recollects and rite,
By which he tames the rebel fiends; and one
Bids enter into Doralice's steed,
Whom he to fury stings and headlong speed.

CXXIX
Into that gentle palfrey's form, who bore
The beauteous daughter of King Stordilane,
Sir Vivian's brother, simply by his lore,
Made pass an angel of the dark domain;
And the good horse, who never moved before,
Except in due obedience to the rein,
Now took a leap, possest by that ill sprite,
Thirty feet long and sixteen feet in height.

CXXX
It was a mighty leap, yet not so wide
As to make any rider void the sell.
Seeing herself so high in air, loud cried,
(Yielding herself for dead) that bonnibel.
Her palfrey, with the Daemon for his guide,
After his leap, runs, goaded by the spell
(The maid still screaming) such a furious course,
An arrow had not reached the flying horse.

CXXXI
At the first hearing of that voice, the son
Of Ulien, on his part, the strife suspended;
And thither, where the furious palfrey run,
Swiftly in succour of the lady wended.
No less was by the Tartar monarch done;
Who neither Child nor damsel more offended;
But without craving time, or truce, or peace,
Pursued King Rodomont and Doralice.

CXXXII
Marphisa rose meanwhile, to fury stirred;
And, with disdain all over in a glow,
Thought to accomplish her revenge, and erred:
For at too great a distance was the foe.
Rogero, who beheld the war deferred,
Rather like lion roared than sighed: well know
Those two their coursers they should vainly gore,
Following Frontino and good Brigliador.

CXXXIII
Rogero will not halt till he renew
And end the unfinished combat for the horse;
Marphisa will not quit that Tartar, who
Will to her satisfaction prove his force.
To leave their quarrel in such guise the two
Esteem foul scandal; as their better course,
In chase of those offending knights to fare,
Is the conclusion of that valiant pair.

CXXXIV
They in the paynim camp will find each foe,
If them before they find not on their way;
Whom thither bound, to raise the siege they know,
Ere Charlemagne bring all beneath his sway.
So thitherward the twain directly go
Where these, they deem, will be their certain prey.
Yet not so rudely thence Rogero broke,
But that he first with his companion spoke.

CXXXV
Thither returns Rogero, where apart
Is he, the brother of his lady fair;
And vows himself his friend, with generous heart,
In good or evil fortune, everywhere.
Him he implores -- and frames his speech with art --
He his salutes will to his sister bear;
And this so well, he moves by that request
No doubt in him, nor any of the rest.

CXXXVI
Of Malagigi he and Viviane
Next takes farewell and wounded Aldigier;
Their services no less that kindly twain
Proffer, as ever debtors to the peer.
Marphisa to seek Paris is so fain,
That parting she forgets her friends to cheer;
But Malagigi and Vivian, in pursuit,
Follow, and from afar that maid salute;

CXXXVII
And so Sir Richardet as well: but low
On earth lies Aldigier, and there must rest.
The two first champions towards Paris go,
And the two others next pursue that quest.
In other canto, Sir, I hope to show
Of wondrous and of superhuman gest,
Wrought to the damage of the Christian king,
By those two couples of whose worth I sing.

CANTO 27

ARGUMENT
By good Rogero and those paynims three
Defeated, Charlemagne to Paris flies.
Already all, throughout their chivalry,
Are mad with spite and hatred; jars arise,
And strife; and means to still their enmity
Their sovereign is unable to devise.
From him departs the monarch of Argier,
Who is rejected of his lady dear.

I
A woman for the most part reasons best
Upon a sudden motion, and untaught;
For with that special grace the sex is blest,
'Mid those so many gifts, wherewith 'tis fraught;
But man, of a less nimble wit possest,
Is ill at counsel, save, with sober thought,
He ruminates thereon, content to spend
Care, time and trouble to mature his end.

II
That seemed good counsel, but was ill indeed
Of Malagigi's, as before was said;
Albeit he so rescued in his need
His cousin Richardet, with odds o'erlaid,
When from the paynim monarchs him he freed
By ready demon, who his hest obeyed;
For sure he never deemed they should be borne,
Where they would work the Christian army scorn.

III
Had he some little prize for counsel stayed,
(We with the same success may well suppose)
He to his cousin might have furnished aid,
Yet brought not on the Christian host their foes:
That evil sprite he might as well have made,
Him, who embodied in the palfrey goes,
Eastward or west, so far that lady bear,
That France should hear no further of the pair.

IV
So the two lovers, following her who flies,
To other place than Paris might be brought:
But this calamity was a surprise
On Malagigi, through his little thought;
And fiendish malice, banished from the skies,
Which ever blood and fire and ravage sought,
Guided them by that way to Charles' disaster;
Left to his choice by him, the wizard master.

V
The wayward fiend who makes that palfrey ramp
Bears off the frighted Doralice amain;
Nor river nor yet yawning ditch, or swamp,
Wood, rock, or rugged cliff, the steed restrain;
Till, traversing the French and English camp,
And other squadrons of the mingled train,
Beneath the holy flag of Christ arraid,
He to Granada's king the fair conveyed.

VI
The Sarzan and the Tartar the first day
That royal damsel a long while pursue;
Because her distant form they yet survey;
But finally they lose that lady's view;
When, like a lyme-dog, whom the hunters lay
On hare or roebuck's trail, the valiant two
Follow upon her track, nor halt, till told
That she is harboured in her father's hold.

VII
Guard thyself, Charles: for, lo! against thee blown
Is such a storm, that I no refuge see:
Nor these redoubted monarchs come alone,
But those of Sericane and Circassy;
While Fortune, who would probe thee to the bone,
Has taken those two shining stars from thee,
Who kept thee by their wisdom and their light;
And thou remainest blind and wrapt in night.

VIII
'Tis of the valiant cousins I would speak:
Of these, Orlando of his wit bereft,
Naked, in sun or shower, by plain or peak,
Wanders about the world, a helpless weft;
And he, in wisdom little less to seek,
Rinaldo, in thy peril thee has left;
And, for in Paris-town she is not found,
In search of his Angelica is bound.

IX
A cunning, old enchanter him deceived,
As in the outlet of my tale was said:
Deluded by a phantom, he believed
Angelica was with Orlando fled;
And hence with jealousy, at heart, aggrieved
(Lover ne'er suffered worse) to Paris sped;
Whence he, as soon as he appeared at court,
By chance, was named to Britain to resort.

X
Now, the field won, wherein with mickle fame
He drove King Agramant his works behind,
To Paris yet again the warrior came,
Searched convent, tower, and house, and, save confined
'Twixt solid walls or columns be the dame,
Her will the restless lover surely find:
Nor her nor yet Orlando he descries,
So forth in the desire to seek them hies.

XI
Her to Anglantes or to Brava brought,
He deemed the Count enjoyed in mirth and play;
And vainly, here and there, that damsel sought,
Nor here nor there, descried the long-sought prey.
To Paris he repaired again, in thought
The paladin returning to waylay;
Because he deemed he could not rove at large
Without that Town, but on some special charge.

XII
Within he takes a day or two's repose;
And, when he finds Orlando comes not there,
Again to Brava and Anglantes goes
Inquiring tidings of the royal fair;
Nor, whether morning dawns or noontide glows,
-- Nor night nor day -- his weary steed does spare;
Nor once -- but twice a hundred times -- has run
The selfsame course, by light of moon or sun.

XIII
But the ancient foe, deluded by whose say,
To the forbidden fruit Eve raised her hand,
Turned his wan eyes on Charlemagne one day,
When he the good Rinaldo absent scanned;
And seeing what foul rout and disarray
Might at that time be given to Charles's band,
Of all the Saracens the choice and flower
Marshalled in arms against the Christian power.

XIV
King Sacripant and King Gradasso (who
Whilere companionship in war had made,
When from Atlantes' palace fled the two)
Together to unite their arms, in aid
Of royal Agramant's beleaguered crew,
And where through unknown lands the warriors hied,
Made smooth the way, and served them as a guide.

XV
Thither another fiend that ruthless foe
Bade Rodomont and Mandricardo bear
Through ways, by which his comrade was not slow
With the affrighted Doralice to fare:
A third, lest they their enterprize forego,
Rogero and Marphisa has in care:
But their conductor journeys not so fast;
And hence that martial pair arrives the last.

XVI
Later by half an hour, against their foes,
So matched, Rogero and Marphisa speed;
Because the sable angel, who his blows
Aimed at the bands that held the Christian creed,
Provided, that the contest which arose
About that horse, his work should not impede;
Which had again been kindled, had the twain,
Rodomont and Rogero, met again.

XVII
The first four ride until themselves they find
Where the besiegers and besieged they view;
And see the banners shaking in the wind,
And the cantonments of those armies two.
Here they short counsel took, and next opined,
In spite of Charlemagne's beleaguering crew,
To carry speedy succour to their liege,
And rescue royal Agramant from siege.

XVIII
Where thickest camped lay Charles's host, they spurred,
Closing their files against the Christian foe.
"Afric and Spain!" is the assailants' word,
Whom at all points the Franks for paynims know.
-- "To arms, to arms!" throughout their camp is heard:
But first is felt the Moorish sabre's blow:
Even on the rear-guard falls the vengeful stroke,
Not charged alone, but routed, beat and broke.

XIX
The Christian host throughout is overthrown,
And how they know not, in tumultuous wise;
And that it is a wonted insult done
By Switzer or by Gascon, some surmise;
But -- since the reason is to most unknown --
Each several nation to its standard flies,
This to the drum, that to the trumpet's sound,
And shriek and shout from earth to heaven redound.

XX
All armed is Charlemagne, except his head,
And, girt with paladins, his faithful stay,
Arrived demanding what alarm has bred
Disorder in his host and disarray;
And stopt with menace this or that who fled,
And many fugitives, upon their way,
Some with maimed face, breast, arm, or hand, espied,
And some with head or throat with life-blood dyed.

XXI
Advancing, he on earth saw many more,
Or rather in a lake of crimson laid,
Horribly weltering in their own dark gore,
Beyond the leech's and magician's aid;
And busts dissevered from the heads they bore,
And legs and arms -- a cruel show -- surveyed;
And, from the first cantonments to the last,
Saw slaughtered men on all sides as he past.

XXII
Where the small band advances in such wise,
Deserving well eternal praise to gain,
Vouching their deeds, a long-drawn furrow lies,
A signal record of their might and main.
His army's cruel slaughter, with surprise,
Anger and rage, is viewed by Charlemagne.
So he whose shattered walls have felt its force,
Throughout his mansion tracks the lightning's course.

XXIII
Not to the ramparts of the paynim crew
Of Agramant as yet had pierced this aid,
When, on the further side, these other two,
Rogero and Marphisa, thither made.
When, once or twice, that worthy pair a view
Have taken of the ground, and have surveyed
The readiest way assistance to afford,
They swiftly move in succour of their lord.

XXIV
As when we spark to loaded mine apply,
Through the long furrow, filled with sable grain,
So fast the furious wildfire darts, that eye
Pursues the progress of the flash with pain;
And as dire ruin follows, and from high,
The loosened rock and solid bastion rain,
So bold Rogero and Marphisa rush
To battle, so the Christian squadrons crush.

XXV
Front and askance, the assailants smote, and low
On earth heads, arms, and severed shoulders lay,
Where'er the Christian squadrons were too slow
To free the path and break their close array.
Whoe'er has seen the passing tempest blow,
And of the hill or valley, in its way,
One portion ravage and another leave,
May so their course amid that host conceive.

XXVI
Many who had escaped by quick retreat,
Rodomont and those other furious three,
Thank God that he had given them legs and feet,
Wherewith to fly from that calamity;
And from the Child and damsel new defeat
Encounter, while with endlong course they flee:
As man, no matter if he stands or run,
Seeks vainly his predestined doom to shun.

XXVII
Who 'scape one peril, into other fly,
And pay the penalty of flesh and blood;
So, by the teeth of dog, is wont to die
The fox, together with her infant brood,
By one who dwells her ancient cavern nigh
Unearthed, and with a thousand blows pursued;
When from some unsuspected place, that foe
Has filled with fire and smoke the den below.

XXVIII
Marphisa and the Child, of danger clear,
Enter the paynim ramparts; and, with eyes
Upturned, the Saracens, with humble cheer,
Thank Heaven for the success of that emprize:
The paladins no longer are their fear;
The meanest Moor a hundred Franks defies;
And 'tis resolved, without repose, again
To drench with Christian blood the thirsty plain.

XXIX
At once a formidable larum rose;
Horns, drums, and shrilling clarions filled the skies;
And the wind ruffles, as it comes and goes,
Banner and gonfalon of various dyes.
The Germans and the warlike Bretons close;
Ranged on the other part, in martial wise,
Italians, English, French, were seen, and through
Those armies furious war blazed forth anew.

XXX
The force of the redoubted Rodomont,
And that of Agrican's infuriate son,
That of Rogero, valiant's copious font,
Gradasso's, so renowned for trophies won,
The martial maid, Marphisa's fearless front,
And might of Sacripant, excelled by none,
Made Charles upon Saint John and Denys call,
And fly for shelter to his Paris wall.

XXXI
Of fierce Marphisa and her bold allies
The unconquered daring and the wondrous might,
Sir, was not of a nature -- of a guise --
To be conceived, much less described aright:
The number slaughtered hence may you surmise!
What cruel blow King Charles sustained in fight!
Add to these warriors of illustrious name,
More than one Moor, with Ferrau, known to Fame.

XXXII
Many through reckless haste were drowned in Seine,
For all too narrow was the bridge's floor,
An wished, like Icarus, for wings in vain,
Having grim death behind them and before,
Save Oliver, and Ogier hight the Dane,
The paladins are prisoners to the Moor:
Wounded beneath his better shoulder fled
The first, that other with a broken head.

XXXIII
And. like Orlando and Duke Aymon's son,
Had faithful Brandimart thrown up the game,
Charles had from Paris into exile gone,
If he had scaped alive so fierce a flame.
Brandimart does his best, and when 'tis done,
Yields to the storm: Thus Fortune, fickle dame,
Now smiles upon the paynim monarch, who
Besieges royal Charlemagne anew.

XXXIV
From earth beneath the widow's outcry swells,
Mingled with elder's and with orphan's prayer,
Into the pure serene, where Michael dwells,
Rising above this dim and troubled air;
And to the blest archangel loudly tells,
How the devouring wolf and raven tear
His faithful English, French, and German train,
Whose slaughtered bodies overspread the plain.

XXXV
Red blushed the blessed angel, who believed
He ill obedience to his lord had paid;
And, in his anger, deemed himself deceived
By the perfidious Discord and betrayed:
He his Creator's order had received
To stir the Moors to strife, nor had obeyed;
Had rather in their eyes who marked the event,
Appeared throughout to thwart his high intent.

XXXVI
As servant faithful to his lord, and more
In love than memory strong, who finds that he
Has that forgotten which at his heart-core,
As precious as his life and soul should be,
Hastes to repair his error, nor before
He mend that fault, again his lord will see,
So not to God St. Michael will ascend
Until he has achieved his holy end.

XXXVII
Again he to that monastery flew,
Where whilom he had Discord seen; and there
Seated in chapter sees her, while anew
Their yearly officers elected are,
She taking huge delight those friers to view,
That at each other hurled their books of prayer.
His hand within her locks the archangel twists,
And deals her endless scathe with feet and fists.

XXXVIII
On her he next a cross's handle broke;
Wherewith her back, and arms, and head he plies:
His mercy with loud voice the wretch bespoke,
And hugged that angel's knees with suppliant cries.
Michael suspends not the avenging stroke
Till hunted to the Moorish camp she flies,
Then thus: "Believe worse vengeance yet in store,
If I beyond these lines behold thee more."

XXXIX
Albeit in back and arms all over shent
Was Discord by that angel, in her fear
Of suffering yet again such chastisement,
Such horrid fury and such blows severe,
She speedily to take her bellows went,
And, adding food to what she lit whilere,
And setting other ready piles afire,
Kindled in many hearts a blaze of ire;

XL
And good Rogero (she inflames them so)
With Rodomont and Mandricardo fares
To Agramant; and all (since now the foe
The paynims pressed no more, the vantage theirs)
To him the seed of their dissensions show,
And what the bitter produce which it bears:
Then to the judgment of the king refer
Who first in listed field his claim should stir.

XLI
As well Marphisa to Troyano's son,
Relates her case, and will conclude the fray
Which with the Tartar king she had begun,
Because by him provoked to that assay;
Nor will she yield her place to any one,
No, not a single hour, yet less a day;
But with loud instances maintains her right
With Mandricardo first to wage the fight.

XLII
To have the first possession of the field
No less renowned king Rodomont contended,
Which he, the African array to shield,
Had interrupted and till now suspended.
Rogero to King Agramant appealed,
As having borne too long, though sore offended,
That Rodomont form him detained his horse,
Nor yet would meet him first in martial course.

XLIII
The Tartar king, for more perplexity,
Denied on any ground Rogero's right
The bearer of the white-winged bird to be;
And was so passing wood with wrath and spite,
That, if to this those others would agree,
He would at once those several quarrels fight;
And so those others would as well have done,
If Agramant's consent they could have won.

XLIV
King Agramant, with prayer and kingly word,
Had willingly appeased that jarring crew;
But since the foes were deaf to all accord,
Nor would assent to peace or truce anew,
Considered how at least he might afford
The field of each of them in order due;
And, as the best resolve, at last decreed,
Each should by lot possess the listed mead.

XLV
Four lots the monarch bade prepare, which done,
This "Rodomont and Mandricardo" said;
"Rogero and Mandricardo" were in one;
In one, "Rogero and Rodomont" were read;
That "Mandricardo and Marphisa" run:
Next, as the fickle goddess, Fortune, led,
The lots are drawn, and in the first appear
The Tartar king and sovereign of Argier.

XLVI
Rogero and Mandricardo for that play
Were next; Rogero and Rodomont were third;
Marphisa's lot and Mardricardo's lay
At bottom; whence the dame was deeply stirred;
Nor young Rogero seems a whit more gay:
Who knows the prowess of those two preferred
Will nothing in the listed combat leave
For him or for Marphisa to achieve.

XLVII
There lies a place, of Paris little wide,
Covering a mile or somewhat less, and round;
Like ancient theatre, on every side,
Encompast by a tall and solid mound;
With castle whilom was it fortified,
Which sword and fire had levelled with the ground.
The Parmesan like circle does survey,
Whenever he to Borgo wends his way.

XLVIII
In this place is prepared the listed mead,
Which palisades of little height inclose;
A square, of just proportions for that need,
With two capacious gates, as usage goes.
The day on which to combat have agreed
Those valiant knights, who will not balk their foes,
Beside the palisades, to left and right,
Facing each entrance, are pavilions pight.

XLIX
In that, which looks towards the western sun,
Is lodged the giant monarch of Argier;
And him assist his serpent-hide to don
Bold Ferrau and Circassia's cavalier.
Gradasso and the puissant Falsiron,
In that which fronts the morning hemisphere,
Clothe with their hands, in Trojan plate and chain,
The good successor of King Agricane.

L
High on a throne of ample state appeared
Agramant and Marsilius; next in place
Were Stordilane and all the chiefs, revered
Throughout the squadrons of the paynim race.
Happy was he who found himself upreared
On mound or tree, above that level space.
Great was the throng, and round the palisade
On every side the eddying people swayed.

LI
Were seated with the Queen of fair Castille
Queens, princesses, and dames of noble strain,
From Arragon, Granada, and Seville,
And Atlas' columns; and amid the train
Assembled to behold that fierce appeal,
Was placed the daughter of King Stordilane:
Two costly vests -- one red, one green -- she wore;
But ill the first was dyed, and faded sore.

LII
In dress succinct Marphisa sate; in plight
Such as beseemed a warrior and a maid:
Thermodoon haply witnessed Hippolyte
And her fair squadron in like garb arrayed.
Afield already, in his livery dight,
Agramant's herald made proclaim, and said
It was forbid to all men, far and wide,
In act or word, with either part to side.

LIII
The frequent crowd expects the double foe;
And often, in impatience, they complain,
And call those famous cavaliers too slow:
When from the Tartar's tent an angry strain
Is heard, and cries which multiply; sir, know
It was the martial king of Sericane,
And puissant Tartar, who that question stirred,
And made the mighty tumult which has heard.

LIV
Sericane's monarch, having with his hand
Equipt the king of Tartary all o'er,
Approached to gird him with that sovereign brand,
With which Orlando went adorned of yore.
When Durindana on the hilt he scanned,
Graved with the quartering that Almontes wore;
Which from that wretched man, beside a font,
Youthful Orlando reft in Aspramont.

LV
He, seeing this, agnised it for the blade
So famous, which Anglantes' warrior bore,
For which he had the fairest fleet arrayed
Which ever put to sea from eastern shore;
And had Castille's rich kingdom overlaid,
And conquered fruitful France some years before;
But cannot now imagine how that sword
Is in possession of the Tartar lord;

LVI
And asks had he by force or treaty won,
And when and where and how, that faulchion bright;
And Mandricardo said that he had done
Fierce battle for that sword with Brava's knight;
Who feigned himself of sober sense foregone,
Hoping that so he should conceal his fright:
-- "For I on him would ceaseless war have made,"
(He added) "while he kept the goodly blade."

LVII
Saying the Count, in yielding to his foe
That sword, the Beavers' known device had tried;
Who. followed closely by the hunter, know
Their fell pursuer covers nought beside.
Ere he had heard him out, -- "Nor I forego
That sword to thee nor any one," (replied
Gradasso, fierce,) "well earned by me, at cost
Of treasure, and of pain, and people lost.

LVIII
"Some other faulchion for thyself purvey;
This will I have; nor deem my reasons new;
Whether Orlando wise or foolish stray,
I make it mine where'er it meets my view.
With none to witness, thou, beside the way
Usurped that sword; I claim it as my due:
For this my scimeter shall reasons yield,
And we will try the cause in listed field.

LIX
"Prepare to win the sword before thou rear
That goodly blade against King Rodomont.
To win his arms is use of cavalier,
Before his foe in duel he affront."
-- "No sweeter music ever soothes my ear"
(Replied the Tartar, as he raised his front)
"Than voice which champions me to martial field;
But see that his consent the Sarzan yield.

LX
"Be thou the first; and, next on listed ground
Let Sarza's valiant lord the question try;
Nor doubt but I in readiness be found
To thee and every other to reply."
" -- Thou shalt not so the ordered lots confound,
Or break our compact (was Rogero's cry):
Either, first Rodomont shall take the field,
Or shall to me his right of battle yield.

LXI
"It that be true Gradasso has averred,
That knight should win the arms he would assay,
Thou hast no title to my white-winged bird,
Save this from me thou first shalt bear away.
But since, forsooth, whilere I said the word,
I will not what I once pronounced unsay,
That mine shall be the second battle, so
That Argier's monarch first affront his foe.

LXII
"I will confuse the order of the field,
Throughout, if partially confused by thee;
Abandon will I not my blazoned shield,
Unless thou combat for it now with me."
-- "Were one and the other Mars, for battle steeled,
(Replies enraged, the king of Tartary)
"Nor one nor the other's might should make me waive
My title to that shield and goodly glaive";

LXIII
And over mastered by his choler, flies
With a clenched fist at him of Sericane,
And smites him with his right-hand in such wise,
As makes him quit his hold of Durindane.
Gradasso bold was taken by surprise,
Not deeming him so furious and insane;
And, while he looked not to the Tartar lord,
Found himself robbed of good Orlando's sword.

LXIV
Fury and scorn Gradasso's visage heats,
Which seems to flash with fire, at that disgrace;
And with more rage and pain his bosom beats,
In that 'twas offered in such public place.
To draw his scimeter, the king retreats,
Intent upon revenge, some little space.
So Mandricardo on himself relies
Rogero he to fight, as well defies.

LXV
"Come on in arms against me, both combined,
And be King Rodomont the third!" (he said)
"Come Spain and Afric and all human kind;
Ne'er will I turn." And he, at nought dismaid,
So saying, in his fury, sawed the wind
About him, with Almontes' noble blade,
Embraced his shield, and, full of choler, stood
Against Gradasso and Rogero good.

LXVI
"Leave me the care," the fierce Gradasso cried,
"The phrensy of this madman to subdue."
-- "Not so, by Heaven!" Rogero wroth replied,
"For I this field claim justly as my due."
-- "Stand back!" and "stand thou back!" on either side
They shout; yet neither of the twain withdrew.
And thus among those three began a feud;
And thence some strange result would have ensued,

LXVII
If many had not interposed, and sought
With little wit their fury to restrain;
Who had well-nigh too dear the experience bought
Of saving others at their proper pain;
Nor to accord the world had ever brought
Those knights, but that the worthy king of Spain
Came thither with renowned Troyano's heir;
Awed by whose sovereign presence all forbear.

LXVIII
Agramant those contending warriors made
The cause of their so burning strife display;
Next earnestly bestirred himself, and prayed
Gradasso that he would, in courteous way,
Concede the Trojan Hector's goodly blade
To Mandricardo, solely for that day,
Until the cruel fight was at an end,
Wherein he should with Rodomont contend.

LXIX
While royal Agramant would peace restore,
And now with this and now with that conferred,
From the other tent, between the Sarzan Moor
And Sacripant, another strife was heard.
Valiant King Sacripant (as said before)
To equip Sir Rodomont himself bestirred,
And he and Ferrau had that champion drest
In his forefather Nimrod's iron vest;

LXX
And there had they arrived, where with his spume
The horse was making his rich bridle white:
I of the good Frontino speak, for whom
Rogero urged with yet unfelt despite.
King Sacripant, who plays the part of groom,
And has to bring afield the Sarzan knight,
Marks narrowly the courser's gear and shoes,
And sell and furniture throughout reviews;

LXXI
And as his points and nimble parts, more near,
He, in this view, observes with better heed,
The youthful king, beyond all doubt, is clear
He sees his Frontilatte in that steed,
Him he of old had held so passing dear,
Whilom of such debates the fruitful seed;
And for whose loss, whilere he was so woe,
He evermore on foot resolved to go.

LXXII
This from beneath him had Brunello borne
Before Albracca, on the very day
Angelica's rare ring, and Roland's horn,
And Balisarda he conveyed away,
With fierce Marphisa's blade, -- and on return
To Afric -- to Rogero, from his prey,
Gave Balisarda and the courser, who
Was by the Child Frontino named anew.

LXXIII
Assured 'twas no mistake, Circassia's chief
Turned him about to Rodomont, and cried:
"Reft from me in Albracca, by a thief,
This horse is mine; which might be certified
By them whose words would warrant well belief:
But as my witnesses are distant wide,
If it be questioned, I will make it plain,
And will, with sword in hand, the truth maintain.

LXXIV
"Yet am I well contented, for that we
Have for these some few days together gone,
To lend him for to-day; since well I see,
That not without him could the fight be done;
But on condition, that the courser be
Acknowledged mine, and furnished as a loan:
Otherwise hope not for that horse, save first
Me, on this quarrel, thou in combat worst."

LXXV
The furious king of Argier, that in pride
Surpassed all knights that ever girt the sword,
Whose paragon, for heart and prowess tried,
Meseems no ancient histories record,
Cried: "Sacripant, if any one beside
Thyself, to me should utter such a word,
He should deem quickly, from its bitter fruit,
He from his birth would better have been mute.

LXXVI
"But, for that fellowship in which we went,
(As thou hast said) together, I to show
Such patience and forbearance am content,
As warning thee, thy purpose to forego,
Until thou shalt have witnessed the event
Of strife between me and my Tartar foe:
When him I such example hope to make,
That thou shalt humbly say, `The courser take.' "

LXXVII
Fierce and enraged, replied Circassia's peer,
"To play the churl with thee is courteous deed,
But I to thee repeat more plain and clear,
Thou ill wouldst aught design against that steed,
For, while I an avenging sabre rear,
This I prohibit thee, and, should it need,
And every better means of battle fail,
With thee for this would battle, tooth and nail."

LXXVIII
They from dispute proceed to ribaldry,
From words to blows; and through their mickle ire,
Fierce battle was inflamed, and blazed more high
Than ever lightly-kindled straw took fire.
King Rodomont is steeled in panoply;
Sacripant neither plate nor mail attire:
Yet so in fence is skilled that nimble lord,
He seems all over sheltered by his sword.

LXXIX
No greater were the daring and the might
(Though infinite) which Rodomont displaid
Than the precaution and the nimble sleight
Which the Circassian summoned to his aid:
No mill-wheel ever turns with swifter flight
The circling stone by which the grain is brayed,
Than Sacripant at need moves foot or hand,
And shifts now here, now there his restless stand.

LXXX
But Serpentine and Ferrau interfere:
They with drawn swords the twain asunder bore;
With them Grandonio was and Isolier,
And many other leaders of the Moor,
This was the tumult which was heard whilere
In the other tent, what time they laboured sore,
Rogero vainly to a peace to bring
With Tartary's and Sericana's king.

LXXXI
This while some voice to Agramant the news
Reports aright, that Ulien's might seed,
With Sacripant, Circassia's king, pursues
A fierce and furious quarrel for the steed.
Agramant, whom so many jars confuse,
Exclaims to King Marsilius: "Take thou heed
That no worse evil mid these knights betide,
While for this new disorder I provide."

LXXXII
Rodomont reined his anger, and retired
Some deal, at his approaching sovereign's view;
Nor less respect in Sacripant inspired
The Moorish monarch; of the furious two,
He with grave voice and royal mien inquired
What cause of strife such deadly discord blew;
And having searched their quarrel to the root,
Would fain accord them; but with little fruit.

LXXXIII
Circassia's monarch would not, on his side,
Longer his horse to Argier's lord allow,
Save humbly Rodomont to him applied,
That steed for this occasion to bestow.
To him Sir Rodomont, with wonted pride,
Returned for answer: "Neither Heaven nor thou
Shall make me recognize as gift or loan
What I with this good hand can make mine own."

LXXXIV
The king bade Sacripant explain his right,
And how that horse was taken from him sought;
And this from first to last Circassia's knight
Rehearsed, and reddened as the tale he taught,
Relating to the king the robber's sleight;
Who had surprised him overwhelmed with thought,
Upon four spears his courser's saddle stayed,
And from beneath the naked horse conveyed.

LXXXV
Marphisa, whom these cries, mid others, bring,
When of the robbery of the horse advised,
In visage is disturbed, remembering
How on that day her faulchion was surprised;
And when that courser (which equipt with wing
Appeared when flying her) she recognized;
And recognized as well -- at first unknown --
The valiant king who filled Circassia's throne.

LXXXVI
The others who stood round her, wont to hear
Brunello often boast of the deceit,
'Gan turn towards that wretch, and made appear
By open signs they knew him for the Cheat.
Marphisa who the subtle knave whilere
Suspected as the author of that feat,
Now questions this, now that, who all accord
In saying 'twas Brunello stole her sword;

LXXXVII
Who, well deserving as a fitting pain
To dangle from the gallows-tree in air,
By Agramant the crown of Tingitane
(An ill example) was preferred to wear.
This fires anew Marphisa's old disdain,
Nor she from instant vengeance will forbear,
For this, as well as other shame and scorn
She on her road had from that caitiff born.

LXXXVIII
A squire laced on her helmet, at her hest;
She wore the remnant of her armour sheen;
Nor without martial cuirass on her breast,
Find I, that she ten times was ever seen,
Even from the day when first that iron vest
Braced on her limbs the passing-valiant queen:
With helm on head, where, mid the highest rows,
Brunello sits among the first, she goes.

LXXXIX
Him by mid breast Marphisa griped amain,
And lifted up the losel from the ground;
As is rapacious eagle wont to strain
The pullet, in her talons circled round;
And bore him where the sons of King Troyane
Heard the two knights their jarring claims propound.
He who perceives himself in evil hands,
Aye weeps, and mercy of that maid demands.

XC
Above the universal noise and shout,
Which rose nigh equally on either side,
Brunello, who from all the crowd about
For pity now, and now for succour, cried,
So loud was heard, that of that ample rout
He gathered round himself the pressing tide.
Arrived before the Moorish army's head,
To him with haughty mien Marphisa said:

XCI
"This thief (said she), thy vassal, will I slay,
And with this hand of mine will knot the cord
About his neck; because the very day
He stole this courser, he purloined my sword.
But is there any one who deems I say
Amiss, let him stand forth and speak the word;
For I on him will prove, before thine eyes,
I have done right, and who gainsays me, lies.

XCII
"But because haply some one may pretend
I have till such a time of strife delayed
My vengeance, when such famous knights contend,
For three days shall the wretch's doom be stayed;
In the mean time let him who would defend
That caitiff, come himself, or send him aid.
For afterwards, if none the deed prevent,
His carcass shall a thousand birds content.

XCIII
"I hence to yonder tower, which distant nigh
Three leagues, o'erlooks a little copse, repair,
But with one varlet in my company,
And with one waiting-maid; if any dare
Rescue the thief, let him come thither; I
Wait the approach of his defenders there."
Thus she; and thither quickly wends her ways
Whither was said, nor any answer stays.

XCIV
Held on the pommel grappled by his hair,
Brunello on Marphisa's courser lies:
The caitiff weeps, and shrieking in despair,
On all in whom he hopes, for succour cries.
In such confusion is Troyano's heir,
He sees no way through these perplexities;
And, that Marphisa thence Brunello bore
In such a guise, yet grieved the monarch more.

XCV
Not that he loved the losel or esteemed,
Rather to him some time had borne despite;
And often had to hand the caitiff schemed,
Since he had forfeited the ring of might.
But here his honour touched the monarch deemed,
So that his visage reddened at the slight:
He would, in person, follow her at speed,
And to his utmost power avenge the deed.

XCVI
But the wise king, Sobrino, who was by,
Him from the quest endeavoured to dissuade,
And that with his exalted majesty
Such enterprize were ill assorted said:
Although firm hope, nay full security,
He had to overcome that martial maid,
If he with pain subdued a woman, shame,
Rather than honour, would pursue his name.

XCVII
Small profit and much peril would succeed
From any fight he should with her maintain,
(And he advised him) as the better deed,
To leave that wretched caitiff to his pain;
And albeit but a simple nod should need
To free him, from that nod he should refrain.
In that the monarch would do ill to force
Even-handed Justice from her destined course.

XCVIII
"Thou to the fierce Marphisa may'st apply
To leave his trial (he pursued) to thee,
With promise, her in this to satisfy
And to suspend him from the gallows-tree:
And even should the maid thy prayer deny,
Let her in every wish contented be:
And rather than that she desert thy side,
Let her hang him and every thief beside."

XCIX
Right willingly King Agramant gave way
To King Sobrino's counsel sage and staid;
And let renowned Marphisa wend her way,
Nor scathed he, nor let scathe, that martial maid,
Neither endured that any her should pray;
And heaven knows with what courage he obeyed
That wise advice, to calm such ruder strife
And quarrel, as throughout his camp were rife.

C
At this mad Discord laughed, no more in fear
That any truce or treaty should ensue;
And scowered the place of combat there and here,
Nor could stand still, for pleasure at the view.
Pride gamboled and rejoiced with her compeer,
And on the fire fresh food and fuel threw,
And shouted so that Michael in the sky
Knew the glad sign of conquest in that cry.

CI
Paris-town rocked, and turbid ran the flood
Of Seine at that loud voice, that horrid roar;
And, so it echo rang in Arden's wood,
Beasts left their caverns in that forest hoar.
Alp and Cevenne's mountain-solitude,
And Blois, and Arles, and Rouen's distant shore,
Rhine, Rhone, and Saone, and Garonne, heard the pest;
Scared mothers hugged their children to their breast.

CII
Five have set up their rest, resolved to be
The first their different quarrels to conclude:
And tangled so is one with other plea,
That ill Apollo's self could judge the feud.
To unravel that first cause of enmity
The king began -- the strife which had ensued,
Because of beauteous Doralice, between
The king of Scythia and her Algerine.

CIII
King Agramant oft moved, between the pair,
Now here now there, to bring them to accord;
Now there now here, admonishing that pair,
Like faithful brother and like righteous lord:
But when he found that neither would forbear,
Deaf and rebellious to his royal word,
Nor would consent that lady to forego,
The cause of strife, in favour of his foe,

CIV
As his best lore, at length the monarch said,
And to obey his sentence both were fain;
That he who was by her preferred, should wed
The beauteous daughter of King Stordilane:
And that what was established on his head
Should not be changed, to either's loss or gain.
The compromise was liked on either side,
Since either hoped she would for him decide.

CV
The mighty king of Sarza, who long space
Before the Tartar, had loved Doralice,
(Who had preferred that sovereign to such grace
As modest lady may, nor do amiss)
Believed, when she past sentence on the case,
She must pronounce what would ensure his bliss.
Nor thus alone King Rodomont conceived,
But all the Moorish host with him believed.

CVI
All know what exploits wrought by him had been
For her in joust and war; they all unsound
And weak King Mandricardo's judgment ween;
But he, who oft was with her on their round,
And oftener private with the youthful queen,
What time the tell-tale sun was under ground,
He, knowing well how sure he was to speed,
Laughed at the silly rabble's idle creed.

CVII
They, after, ratify the king's award,
Between his hands, and next the suitors twain
Before that damsel go, that on the sward
Fixing her downcast eyes, in modest vein,
Avows her preference of the Tartar lord;
At which sore wondering stand the paynim train;
And Rodomont remains so sore astound,
He cannot raise his visage from the ground.

CVIII
But wonted anger chasing shame which dyed
The Sarzan's face all over, he arraigned
The damsel's sentence, of the faulchion, tied
About his manly waist, the handle strained,
And in the king's and others' hearing cried:
"By this the question shall be lost or gained;
And not by faithless woman's fickle thought,
Which thither still inclines, where least it ought."

CIX
Kind Mandricardo on his feet once more,
Exclaims, "And be it as it pleases thee."
So that ere yet the vessel made the shore
Unploughed remained a mighty space of sea;
But that this king reproved the Sarzan sore,
Ruling that to appeal upon that plea
No more with Mandricardo could avail,
And made the moody Sarzan strike his sail.

CX
Branded with double scorn, before those peers,
By noble Agramant, whose sovereign sway
He, as in loyal duty bound, reveres,
And by his lady on the selfsame day,
There will no more the monarch of Algiers
Abide, but of his band -- a large array --
Two serjeants only for his service takes,
And with that pair the paynim camp forsakes.

CXI
As the afflicted bull who has foregone
His heifer, nor can longer warfare wage,
Seeks out the greenwood-holt and stream most lone,
Or sands at distance from his pasturage;
There ceases not, in sun or shade to moan;
Yet not for that exhales his amorous rage:
So parts, constrained his lady to forego,
The king of Argier, overwhelmed with woe.

CXII
Rogero moved, his courser to regain,
And had already donned his warlike gear,
Then recollecting, that on listed plain
At Mandricardo he must couch the spear,
Followed not Rodomont, but turned his rein,
To end his quarrel with the Tartar, ere
He met in combat Sericana's lord
Within close barriers, for Orlando's sword.

CXIII
To have Frontino ravished in his sight,
And be unable to forbid the deed,
He sorely grieves; but, when he shall that fight
Have done, resolves he will regain the steed;
But Sacripant, whom, like the youthful knight,
No quarrels in the Moor's pursuit impede,
And who was unengaged in other quest,
Upon the Sarzan's footsteps quickly prest;

CXIV
And would have quickly joined him that was gone,
But for the chance of an adventure rare;
Which him detained until the day was done,
And made him lose the track of Ulien's heir:
A woman who had fallen into the Saone,
And who without his help had perished there,
The warrior drowning in that water found,
And stemmed the stream and dragged the dame aground.

CXV
When afterwards he would remount the sell,
From him his restless charger broke astray,
Who fled before his lord till evening fell,
Nor lightly did the king that courser stay.
At last he caught him; but no more could spell
Where he had wandered from the beaten way:
Two hundred miles he roved, 'twist hill and plain,
Ere he came up with Rodomont again.

CXVI
How he by Sacripant was overtaken,
And fought by him, to his discomfit sore,
And how he lost his courser, how was taken,
I say not now, who have to say before,
With what disdain and with what anger shaken,
Against his liege and love, the Sarzan Moor
Forth from the Saracen cantonments sped,
And what he of the one and other said.

CXVII
Wherever that afflicted paynim goes,
He fills the kindling air with sighs that burn;
And Echo oft, for pity of his woes,
With him from hollow rock is heard to mourn:
"O female mind! how lightly ebbs and flows
Your fickle mood," (he cries,) "aye prone to turn!
Object most opposite to kindly faith!
Lost, wretched man, who trusts you to his scathe!

CXVIII
"Neither my love nor length of servitude,
Though by a thousand proofs to you made clear,
Had power even so to fix your faithless mood,
That you at least so lightly should not veer:
Nor am I quitted, because less endued
With worth than Mandricardo I appear;
Nor for your conduct cause can I declare,
Save this alone, that you a woman are.

CXIX
"I think that nature and an angry God
Produced thee to the world, thou wicked sex,
To be to man a plague, a chastening rod;
Happy, wert thou not present to perplex.
So serpent creeps along the grassy sod;
So bear and ravening wolf the forest vex;
Wasp, fly, and gad-fly buzz in liquid air,
And the rich grain lies tangled with the tare.

CXX
"Why has not bounteous Nature willed that man
Should be produced without the aid of thee,
As we the pippin, pear, and service can
Engraft by art on one another's tree?
But she directs not all by certain plan;
Rather, upon a nearer view, I see,
In naming her, she ill can act aright,
Since Nature is herself a female hight.

CXXI
"Yet be not therefore proud and full of scorn
Women, because man issues from your seed;
For roses also blossom on the thorn,
And the fair lily springs from loathsome weed.
Despiteous, proud, importunate, and lorn
Of love, of faith, of counsel, rash in deed,
With that, ungrateful, cruel and perverse,
And born to be the world's eternal curse!"

CXXII
These plaints and countless others to the wind
Poured forth the paynim knight, to fury stirred;
Now easing in low tone his troubled mind,
And now in sounds which were at distance heard,
In shame and in reproach of womankind;
Yet certes he from sober reason erred:
For we may deem a hundred good abound,
Where one or two perchance are evil found.

CXXIII
Though none for whom I hitherto have sighed
-- Of those so many -- have kept faith with me,
All with ingratitude, or falsehood dyed
I deem not, I accuse my destiny.
Many there are, and have been more beside
Unmeriting reproach: but if there be,
'Mid hundreds, one or two of evil way,
My fortune wills that I should be their prey.

CXXIV
Yet will I make such search before I die,
Rather before my hair shall wax more white,
That haply on some future day, even I
Shall say, "That one has kept her promise plight."
And should not the event my trust belie,
(Nor am I hopeless) I with all my might
Will with unwearied pain her praise rehearse
With pen and ink and voice, in prose and verse.

CXXV
The Saracen, whom rage no less profound
Against his sovereign lord than lady swayed,
And who of reason thus o'erpast the bound,
And ill of one and of the other said,
Would fain behold that monarch's kingdom drowned
With such a tempest, with such scathe o'erlaid,
As should in Africk every house aggrieve,
Nor one stone standing on another leave.

CXXVI
And would that from his realm, in want and woe,
King Agramant a mendicant should wend;
That through his means the monarch, brought thus low,
His fathers' ancient seat might reascend:
And thus he might the fruit of fealty show,
And make his sovereign see, a real friend
Was aye to be preferred in wrong or right,
Although the world against him should unite;

CXXVII
And thus the Saracen pours forth his moan,
With rage against his liege and love possest;
And on his way is by long journeys gone,
Giving himself and courser little rest.
The following day or next, upon the Saone
He finds himself, who has his course addrest
Towards the coast of Provence, with design
To his African domain to cross the brine.

CXXVIII
From bank to bank the stream was covered o'er
With boat of little burden, which conveyed,
For the supply of the invading Moor,
Victual, from many places round purveyed:
Since even from Paris to the pleasant shore
Of Acquamorta, all his rule obeyed;
And -- fronting Spain -- whate'er of level land
Was seen, extending on the better hand.

CXXIX
The victual, disembarked from loaded barge,
Was laid on sumpter-horse or ready wain;
And sent, with escort to protect the charge,
Where barges could not come; about the plain,
Fat herds were feeding on the double marge,
Brought thither from the march of either reign;
And, by the river-side, at close of day,
In different homesteads lodged, the drovers lay.

CXXX
The king of Argier (for the dusky air
Of night began upon the world to close)
Here listened to a village-landlord's prayer,
That in his inn besought him to repose.
-- His courser stalled -- the board with plenteous fare
Is heaped, and Corsic wine and Grecian flows;
For, in all else a Moor, the Sarzan drank
Of the forbidden vintage like a Frank.

CXXXI
To warlike Rodomont, with goodly cheer
And kindlier mien, the landlord honour paid;
For he the port of an illustrious peer
In his guest's lofty presence saw pourtrayed.
But, sore beside himself, the cavalier
Had scarce his heart within him, which had strayed
To her -- whilere his own -- in his despite;
Nor word escaped the melancholy knight.

CXXXII
Mine host, most diligent in his vocation
Of all the trade who throughout France were known,
(In that he had, 'mid strange and hostile nation,
And every chance of warfare, kept his own)
-- Prompt to assist him in his occupation,
Some of his kin had called; whereof was none
Who dared before the warrior speak of aught,
Seeing that paynim mute and lost in thought.

CXXXIII
From thought to thought the Sarzan's fancy flies,
Himself removed from thence a mighty space,
Who sits so bent, and with such downcast eyes,
He never once looks any in the face.
Next, after silence long, and many sighs,
As if deep slumber had but then given place,
His spirits he recalls, his eyelids raises,
And on the family and landlord gazes.

CXXXIV
Then silence broke, and with a milder air,
And visage somewhat less disturbed, applied
To him, the host, and those by-standers there,
To know if any to a wife were tied;
And landlord and attendants, -- that all were,
To Sarza's moody cavalier replied:
He asked what each conceited of his spouse,
And if he deemed her faithful to her vows.

CXXXV
Except mine host, those others were agreed
That chaste and good their consorts they believed.
-- "Think each man as he will, but well I read,"
(The landlord said,) "You fondly are deceived:
Your rash replies to one conclusion lead,
That you are all of common sense bereaved;
And so too must believe this noble knight,
Unless he would persuade us black is white.

CXXXVI
"Because, as single is that precious bird
The phoenix, and on earth there is but one,
So, in this ample world, it is averred,
One only can a woman's treason shun.
Each hopes alike to be that wight preferred,
The victor who that single palm has won.
-- How is it possible that what can fall
To one alone, should be the lot of all?

CXXXVII
"Erewhile I made the same mistake as you,
And that more dames than one were virtuous thought,
Until a gentleman of Venice, who,
For my good fortune, to this inn was brought,
My ignorance by his examples true
So ably schooled, he better wisdom taught.
Valerio was the name that stranger bore;
A name I shall remember evermore.

CXXXVIII
"Of wives and mistresses the treachery
Was known to him, with all their cunning lore.
He, both from old and modern history,
And from his own, was ready with such store,
As plainly showed that none to modesty
Could make pretension, whether rich or poor;
And that, if one appeared of purer strain,
'Twas that she better hid her wanton vein.

CXXXIX
"He of his many tales, among the rest,
(Whereof a third is from my memory gone)
So well one story in my head imprest,
It could not be more firmly graved in stone:
And what I thought and think, would be professed
For that ill sex, I ween by every one
Who heard; and, Sir -- if pleased to lend an ear --
To their confusion yon that tale shall hear."

CXL
"What could'st thou offer which could better please
At present" (made reply the paynim knight)
"Than sample, chosen from thine histories,
Which hits the opinion that I hold, aright?
That I may hear thee speak with better ease
Sit so, that I may have thee in my sight."
But in the following canto I unfold
What to King Rodomont the landlord told.

CANTO 28

ARGUMENT
To whatsoever evil tongue can tell
Of womankind King Rodomont gives ear;
Then journeys homeward; but that infidel
Finds by the way a place he holds more dear.
Here him new love inflames for Isabel;
But so the wishes of the cavalier
A friar impedes, who with that damsel wends,
Him by a cruel death the felon ends.

I
Ladies, and all of you that ladies prize,
Afford not, for the love of heaven, an ear
To this, the landlord's tale, replete with lies,
In shame and scorn of womankind; though ne'er
Was praise or fame conveyed in that which flies
From such a caitiff's tongue; and still we hear
The sottish rabble all things rashly brand,
And question most what least they understand.

II
Omit this canto, and -- the tale untold --
My story will as clear and perfect be;
I tell it, since by Turpin it is told,
And not in malice or in rivalry:
Besides, that never did my tongue withhold
Your praises, how you are beloved by me
To you I by a thousand proofs have shown,
Vouching I am, and can but be, your own.

III
Let him who will, three leaves or four pass-by,
Nor read a line; or let him, who will read,
As little of that landlord's history,
As of a tale or fiction, make his creed.
But to my story: -- When his auditory
He saw were waiting for him to proceed,
And that a place was yielded him, o'eright
The cavalier, he 'gan his tale recite:

IV
"Astolpho that the Lombard sceptre swayed,
Who was King Monacho, his brother's heir,
By nature with such graces was purveyed,
Few e'er with him in beauty could compare:
Such scarce Apelles' pencil had pourtrayed,
Zeuxis', or worthier yet, if worthier were:
Beauteous he was, and so by all was deemed,
But far more beauteous he himself esteemed.

V
"He not so much rejoiced that he in height
Of grandeur was exalted o'er the rest,
And that, for riches, subjects, and for might,
Of all the neighbouring kings he was the best,
As that, superior to each other wight,
He beauty was throughout the world confest.
This pleased the monarch, who the praise conferred,
As that wherein he most delighted, heard.

VI
"Faustus Latinus, one of his array,
Who pleased the king, a Roman cavalier,
Hearing ofttimes Astolpho now display
The beauties of his hand, now of his cheer,
And, questioned by that monarch, on a day,
If ever in his lifetime, far or near,
He any of such beauty had espied,
To him thus unexpectedly replied:

VII
"Faustus to him replied: `By what I see,
And what I hear, is said by every one,
Few are there that in beauty rival thee;
And rather I those few confine to one:
Jocundo is that one, my brother he;
And well I ween that, saving him alone,
Thou leavest all in beauty far behind;
But I in him thy peer and better find.'

VIII
"Impossible Astolpho deemed the thing,
Who hitherto had thought the palm his own;
And such a longing seized the Lombard king
To know that youth whose praises so were blown,
He prest, till Faustus promised him to bring
The brother praised by him, before his throne,
Though 'twould be much if thither he repaired,
(The courier added) and the cause declared:

IX
"Because the youth had ne'er been known to measure,
In all his life, a single pace from Rome;
But, on what Fortune gave him, lived at leisure,
Contented in his own paternal dome;
Nor had diminished nor encreased the treasure,
Wherewith his father had endowed that home;
And he more distant would Paris deem
Than Tanais another would esteem;

X
"And that a greater difficulty were
To tear Jocundo from his consort; who
Was by such love united to that fair,
No other will but hers the husband knew:
Yet at his sovereign's hest he would repair
To seek the stripling, and his utmost do.
The suit with offers and with gifts was crowned,
Which for that youth's refusal left no ground.

XI
"Faustus set forth, and, after few days' ride,
Reached Rome, and his paternal mansion gained:
There with entreaties so the brother plied,
He to that journey his consent obtained;
And wrought so well (though difficult to guide)
Silent even young Jocundo's wife remained;
He showing her what good would thence ensue,
Besides what gratitude would be her due.

XII
"Jocundo names a time to wend his way,
And servingmen meanwhile purveys and steeds;
And a provision makes of fair array;
For beauty borrows grace from glorious weeds.
Beside him or about him, night and day,
Aye weeping, to her lord the lady reads;
She knows not how she ever can sustain
So long an absence, and not die with pain.

XIII
"For the mere thought produced such misery,
It seemed from her was ravished her heart's core.
-- `Alas! my love (Jocundo cried) let be
Thy sorrows' -- weeping with her evermore --
`So may this journey prosper! as to thee
Will I return ere yet two months are o'er;
Nor by a day o'erpass the term prescribed,
Though me the king with half his kingdom bribed.'

XIV
"This brought his troubled consort small content:
She that the period was too distant said,
And that 'twould be a mighty wonderment,
If her, at his return, he found not dead.
The grief which, day and night, her bosom rent,
Was such, that lady neither slept nor fed:
So that for pity oft the youth repented
He to his brother's wishes had consented.

XV
"She from her neck unloosed a costly chain
That a gemmed cross and holy reliques bore;
Which one, a pilgrim of Bohemia's reign,
Had gathered upon many a distant shore;
Him did her sire in sickness entertain,
Returning from Jerusalem of yore;
And hence was made that dying pilgrim's heir:
This she undoes, and gives her lord to wear;

XVI
"And round his neck entreats him, for her sake,
That chain in memory of herself to wind:
Her gift the husband is well pleased to take;
Not that a token needs his love to bind:
For neither time, nor absence, e'er will shake,
Nor whatsoever fortune is behind,
Her memory, which, rooted fast and deep,
He still has kept, and after death will keep.

XVII
"The night before that morning streaked the sky,
Fixt for his journey, to his sore dismay,
Her husband deemed that in his arms would die
The wife from whom he was to wend his way.
She slumbered not: to her a last goodbye
He bade, while yet it lacked an hour of day,
Mounted his nag, and on his journey sped;
While his afflicted spouse returned to bed.

XVIII
"Jocundo was not two miles on his road,
When he that jewelled cross recalled to mind;
Which he beneath his pillow had bestowed,
And, through forgetfulness, had left behind.
`Alas! (the youth bethought him) in what mode
Shall I excuse for my omission find,
So that from this my consort shall not deem
I little her unbounded love esteem?

XIX
"He pondered an excuse; then weened' twould be
Of little value, if it were exprest
By page or other -- save his embassy
He did himself; his brother he addrest;
` -- Now to Baccano ride you leisurely,
And there at the first inn set-up your rest;
For I must back to Rome without delay;
But trust to overtake you by the way.

XX
" `No other but myself my need could do.
Doubt not but I shall speedily be back.'
-- No servant took he, but, with an adieu,
Jocundo, at a trot, wheeled round his hack,
And when that cavalier the stream was through,
The rising sun 'gan chase the dusky rack.
At home he lighted, sought his bed, and found
The consort he had quitted sleeping sound.

XXI
"He, without saying aught, the curtains drew,
And, what he least believed, within espied;
For he beneath the quilt, his consort true
And chaste, saw sleeping at a stripling's side.
Forthwith Jocundo that adulterer knew,
By practice, of his features certified,
In that he was a footboy in his train,
Nourished by him, and come of humble strain.

XXII
"To imagine his distress and wonderment,
And warrant it, that other may believe,
Is better than to make the experiment,
And, like this wretch, the cruel proof receive:
By anger stirred, it was his first intent
To draw his sword, and both of life bereave;
But love, which spite himself, he entertained
For that ungrateful woman, him restrained.

XXIII
"You see if like a vassal he obeyed
This ribald Love, who left him not the force
To wake her, lest to know her guilt surveyed,
Should in his consort's bosom move remorse.
As best he could, he forth in silence made,
The stair descended, and regained his horse.
Goaded by Love, he goads his steed again,
And ere they reach their inn rejoins his train.

XXIV
"His change of mien to all was manifest;
All saw his heart was heavy; yet not one,
Mid these, in any sort, the reason guessed,
Nor read the secret woe which caused his moan;
All thought he had to Rome his steps addrest,
Woe to the town, surnamed of horns, had gone.
That Love has caused the mischief all surmise,
Though none of them conjectures in what wise.

XXV
"His brother weened he was in grief immersed
For his deserted wife: he, on his side,
For other reason, inly chafed and cursed,
-- That she was but too well accompanied.
Meanwhile, with swelling lips and forehead pursed,
The ground that melancholy stripling eyed.
Faustus, who vainly would apply relief,
Ill cheered him, witless what had caused his grief.

XXVI
"He for his sore an evil salve had found,
And, where he should retire, encreased his woes;
Who, with the mention of his wife, that wound
Inflamed and opened, which he sought to close.
He rests not night nor day, in sorrow drowned;
His appetite is gone, with his repose,
Ne'er to return; and (whilom of such fame)
His lovely visage seems no more the same.

XXVII
"His eye-balls seem deep-buried in his head,
His nose seems grown -- his cheeks are pined so sore --
Nor even remains (his beauty so is fled)
Enough to warrant what he was before.
Such fever burns him, of his sorrow bred,
He halts on Arbia's and on Arno's shore;
And, if a charm is left, 'tis faded soon,
And withered like a rose-bud plucked at noon.

XXVIII
"Besides that Faustus sorrowed to descry
Him so bested; worse cause for sorrowing
Was to that courtier to appear to lie
Before Astolpho; he was pledged to bring
One that was fairest deemed in every eye,
Who must appear the foulest to that king;
Yet he continued on his way to wend,
And brought him to Pavia in the end.

XXIX
"Not that forthwith he lets the youth be seen,
Lest him the king of little wit arraign;
He first by his dispatches lets him ween,
That thither he Jocundo brings with pain:
Saying, that of his beauteous air and mien
Some secret cause of grief had been the bane,
Accompanied by a distemper sore:
So that he seemed not what he was before.

XXX
"Glad was the monarch, of his coming taught,
As of a friend's arrival he could be;
Since in the universal world was nought,
That he so much desired as him to see:
Nor was the Lombard's king displeased in ought
To mark his guest's inferiority;
Though, but for his misfortune, it was clear,
He his superior would have been or peer.

XXXI
"Lodged by him in his palace, every day
And every hour, the stranger youth he sees,
Studious to honour him, and bids purvey
Store of provision for his better ease.
While still his thoughts to his ill consort stray,
Jocundo languishes; nor pastimes please
That melancholy man; nor music's strain
One jot diminishes his ceaseless pain.

XXXII
"Above his chambers, on the upper floor,
Nearest the roof, there was an ancient hall:
Thither, in solitary mood, (for sore
Pastime and company, the stripling gall,)
He aye betakes himself; while evermore
Sad thoughts some newer cause of grief recall.
He here (who would believe the story?) found
A remedy unhoped, which made him sound.

XXXIII
"At that hall's farther end, more feebly lighted,
(For windows ever closed shut out the day)
Where one wall with another ill united,
He, through the chink, beheld a brighter ray:
There laid his eye, and saw, what he had slighted
As hard to credit, were it but hearsay:
He hears it not, but this himself descries;
Yet hardly can believe his very eyes.

XXXIV
"He of the Queen's apartment here was sight,
Her choicest and her priviest chamber, where
Was never introduced whatever wight,
Save he most faithful was esteemed: he there,
As he was peeping, saw an uncouth fight;
A dwarf was wrestling with the royal fair;
And such that champion's skill, though undergrown,
He in the strife his opposite had thrown.

XXXV
"As in a dream, Jocundo stood, beside
Himself, awhile of sober sense bereaved;
Nor, but when of the matter certified,
And sure it was no dream, his sight believed.
-- `A scorned and crooked monster,' (then he cried,)
`Is, as her conqueror, by a dame received,
Wife of the comeliest, of the curtiest wight,
And greatest monarch; Oh! what appetite!'

XXXVI
"And he the consort to whom he was wed,
Her he most used to blame, recalled to mind,
And, for the stripling taken to her bed,
To deem the dame less culpable inclined:
Less of herself than sex the fault he read,
Which to one man could never be confined:
And thought, if in one taint all women shared,
At least his had not with a monster paired.

XXXVII
"To the same place Jocundo made return,
At the same hour, upon the following day;
And, putting on the king the self-same scorn,
Again beheld that dwarf and dame at play:
And so upon the next and following morn;
For -- to conclude -- they made no holiday:
While she (what most Jocundo's wonder moved)
The pigmy for his little love reproved.

XXXVIII
"One day, amid the rest, the youth surveyed
The dame disordered and opprest with gloom;
Having twice summoned, by her waiting-maid,
The favoured dwarf, who yet delayed to come;
A third time by the lady sent, she said:
-- `Engaged at play, Madonna, is the groom,
Nor, lest he lose a doit, his paltry stake,
Will that discourteous churl his game forsake.'

XXXIX
"At such strange spectacle, the Roman knight
Cleared up his brow, his visage and his eyes;
He jocund, as in name, became in sprite,
And changed his tears for smiles; with altered guise,
He waxed ruddy, gay, and plump in plight,
And seems a cherubim of Paradise.
So that such change with wonderment all see,
Brother and king, and royal family.

XL
"If from the youth Astolpho wished to know
From whence this sudden light of comfort came,
No less Jocundo this desired to show,
And to the king such injury proclaim:
But willed that like himself he should forego
Revenge upon the author of that shame.
Hence, that he might discern her guilt, yet spare,
He made him on the Agnus Dei swear.

XLI
"He made him swear that he, for nothing said,
Or seen, which might to him displeasing be,
(Though he, in what he should discover, read
An outrage offered to his majesty,)
Would, now or ever, venge him on his head:
Moreover him he bound to secrecy;
That the ill doer ne'er, through deed or word,
Might guess his injured king that case had heard.

XLII
"The monarch, who to every thing beside
Could better have given credit, freely swore:
To him the cause Jocundo signified,
Why he had many days lamenting sore;
-- Because he had his evil wife espied
In the embraces of a serjeant poor;
And vowed he should in fine have died of grief,
If he for longer time had lacked relief.

XLIII
"But that within his highness' palace said,
He had witnessed what had much appeased his woe;
For, if foul shame had fallen upon his head,
At least he was not single; saying so,
He to that chink the Lombard monarch led,
Who spied the mannikin of hideous show.
(Lines 7 & 8 untranslated by Rose)

XLIV
"You may believe he shameless deemed that act,
Without my swearing it; he, at the sight,
It seemed, would go distraught, -- with fury racked,
He against every wall his head would smite --
Would cry aloud -- would break the solemn pact,
Yet kept parforce the promise he had plight;
And gulped his anger down and bitter scorn;
Since on the holy water he had sworn.

XLV
"Then to Jocundo: `What remains to me
To do in this misfortune, brother, speak;
Since vengeance with more noted cruelty
Thou wilt not let me on the sinners wreak.'
(Jocundo answered) `Let these ingrates be;
And try we if all women are as weak;
And if the wives of others can be won
To do what others by our own have done.

XLVI
" `Both fair and youthful, measured by this scale,
Nor easily our equals shall we find;
What woman but to us shall strike her sail,
If even to the ugly these are kind?
At least, if neither youth nor grace avail,
The money may, with which our bags are lined;
Nor will I that we homeward more return,
Ere the chief spoils we from a thousand earn.

XLVII
" `Long absence, seeing with a distant part,
Converse with different women, oft allay,
As it would seem, the troubles of a heart,
Whereof Love's angry passions make their prey.'
The king is pleased to hear the youth impart
This counsel, nor his journey will delay:
Thence on their road, with but two squires beside,
He and the Roman knight together ride.

XLVIII
"Disguised they go through France and Italy,
They Flanders next and England scower, and where
A woman they of lovely visage spy,
Aye find the dame complaint with their prayer.
They upon some bestow what others buy,
And oft replaced their squandered treasures are.
Our travellers to the wives of many sued,
And by as many other dames were wooed.

XLIX
"By solid proof those comrades ascertain,
Here tarrying for a month, and there for two,
That their own wives are of no other vein
Than those of others, and as chast and true.
After some season, wearied are the twain
With ever running after something new:
For, without risk of death, thus evermore
The intruders ill could enter other's door.

L
"-- 'Twere best to find a girl whose natural bent
And face to both of us should pleasing be;
A girl, that us in common might content,
Nor we in her find cause for jealousy;
And wherefore wouldst thou that I should lament
More than with other, to go halves with thee?'
(Exclaimed Astolpho) `well I know is none,
Of all the female sex, content with one.

LI
" `One damsel that in nought shall us constrain,
-- Then only, when disposed to please the fair --
Will we in peace and pleasure entertain,
Nor we, about her, have dispute or care.
Nor, deem I, she with reason could complain:
For if two fell to every other's share,
Better than one might she keep faith with two;
Nor haply we such frequent discord view.'

LII
"Much seems the king's proposal to content
The Roman youth; and thus it is, the twain,
To execute Astolpho's project bent,
Journey by many a hill and many a plain;
And find at last, well fitting their intent,
The daughter of a publican of Spain,
Of presence and of manners framed to win;
Whose father at Valencia kept his inn.

LIII
As yet, upon the bloom of spring, the maid
Was a fresh flower that scarce began to blow:
Her sire with many children was o'erlaid,
And was to poverty a mortal foe.
Hence 'tis an easy matter to persuade
Mine host his buxom daughter to forego,
And let them, where they will the damsel bear;
In that to treat her well the travellers swear.

LIV
(Lines 1-6 untranslated by Rose)
They to Zattiva come upon the day
That from Valencia they had bent their way.

LV
"The travellers from their inn to street and square
And places, public and divine, resort;
Who, wheresoever they had made repair,
Themselves were so accustomed to disport,
The girl is with the valets left in care,
Who make the beds, and wearied hackneys sort:
While others in the hostel-kitchen dight
The meal against their lords' return at night.

LVI
"As groom, a stripling in the hostel plied,
Who in the other landlord's house had been:
He, from her childhood at the damsel's side,
Had joyed her love: they, without change of mien,
On meeting, closely one another eyed,
Since either apprehended to be seen:
But when alone -- now left together -- raised
Their eyelids and on one another gazed.

LVII
"The stripling asked her whitherward they sped,
And of the two which claimed her as his right;
This, point by point, to him Flammetta read;
Flammetta she, the Greek that boy was hight.
` -- When I had hoped the time was coming,' said
The Greek -- `that I should live with thee, my light,
Flammetta, thou, alas! art lost to me,
Nor know I if I more thy face shall see.

LVIII
" `I to the bitter dregs the cup must drain
Of promised sweets; since thou art others' prey.
'Twas my design, having with mickle pain
And labour sore, some money put away,
Which I had hoarded out of frequent gain
From parting guests, and from my yearly pay,
To seek again Valencia, and demand
Thee from thy sire in lawful wedlock's band.

LIX
"The damsel shrugs her shoulders, and complains;
And -- that he is too late -- is her reply.
The Greek laments and sobs, and partly feigns:
` -- Wilt thou (he answered her) thus let me die?
Let me, at least, exhale my amorous pains!
Let me, but once, in thine embrace lie!
For every moment in thy presence spent,
Ere thou depart, will make me die content.'

LX
"To him the damsel, full of pity, cries:
`Believe, I covet this no less than thee;
But here, surrounded by so many eyes,
Is neither time nor opportunity.'
` -- I feel assured' (to her that youth replied)
`Were I beloved by you, as you by me,
This very night you would find out a place
Wherein to solace us some little space.'

LXI
(Stanza LXI untranslated by Rose)

LXII
"She bade him come -- when she awhile had thought --
When he believed that all asleep were laid;
And how by him her chamber should be sought,
And how he should return, at full, displaid.
The cautious stripling did as he was taught,
And, when he found all silent, thither made:
He pushed, till it gave way, the chamber-door,
And, upon tiptoes, softly paced the floor.

LXIII - LXX
(Stanzas LXIII - LXX untranslated by Rose)

LXXI
"Gazing on one another, with surprise,
The monarch and Jocundo are confused;
Nor even to have heard a case surmise
Of two, that ever thus had been abused:
Then laughed so, that they sate with winking eyes,
And open mouth, and lungs which breath refused;
And, wearied with the mirth her tale had bred,
Fell backwards, both, exhausted on the bed.

LXXII
"When they had laughed so loud a laugh, the dew
Stood in their eyes, and each with aching breast
Remained, the pair exclaimed: `What shall we do
In order not to be a woman's jest?
Since we, with all our heed, between us two,
Could not preserve the one by us possest,
A husband, furnished with more eyes than hair,
Perforce must be betrayed with all his care.

LXXIII
" `A thousand, beauteous all, have we found kind,
Nor one of those so many has stood fast.
If tried, all women we by proof should find
Like these; but be the experiment our last.
Then we may deem our own not worse inclined
Than are the wives of others, and as chaste:
And, if like others we our own discern,
I hold it best that we to them return.'

LXXIV
"When they have come to this resolve, they, through
Flammetta, call the youth into their bower;
And with the girl her leman, in the view
Of many, gift, and add a fitting dower.
They mount, and to the east their way pursue,
Accustomed westward hitherto to scower;
To their deserted wives again repair,
Nor of their after deeds take farther care."

LXXV
Here paused mine host; to whom on every side
His audience had with careful heed attended.
Rodomont listened, nor a word replied,
Until the landlord's story was suspended.
Then -- "Fully I believe," that paynim cried,
"The tale of women's frauds would ne'er be ended;
Nor could that man in any volume note
The thousandth part, who would their treasons quote."

LXXVI
Of sounder judgement, 'mid that company,
There was an elder, one more wise and bold;
That undefended so the sex to see,
Was inly wroth, and could no longer hold:
To the relater of that history
He turned; and, "Many things we have been told"
(Exclaimed that ancient) "wherein truth is none,
And of such matters is thy fable one.

LXXVII
"Him I believe not, that told this truth to you,
Though in all else he gospel-truths exprest;
As less by his experience, than untrue
Conceit respecting women prepossest.
The malice which he bears to one or two,
Makes him unjustly hate and blame the rest.
But you shall hear him, if his wrath o'erblow,
Yet greater praise than blame on these bestow.

LXXVIII
"And he a larger field for speaking well
Will find, than blaming womankind withal;
And of a hundred worthy fame may tell,
For one whose evil deeds for censure call.
He should exalt the many that excel,
Culled from the multitude, not rail at all,
If otherwise your friend Valerio said,
He was by wrath, and not by reason, led.

LXXIX - LXXXIII
(Stanzas LXXIX - LXXXIII untranslated by Rose)

LXXXIV
So reasoning, that just elder and sincere,
With ready instances, supports his creed;
Showing there many women are who ne'er
Sinned against chastity, in word or deed:
But him with impious visage and severe
The paynim scared, ill pleased the truth to read.
So that, through fear, he further speech forbore,
But changed not therefore aught his former lore.

LXXXV
Having stopt further question in this wise,
The paynim monarch from the table rose:
Then lays him on his bed, till from the skies
The dusky shades depart, and morning glows:
But spends a larger part of night in sighs
At his liege-lady's sin, than in repose.
Rodomont thence departs at dawn of day,
Resolved by water to pursue his way.

LXXXVI
For with such care for his good horse's plight,
As is becoming a good cavalier,
The courser fair and good, made his in spite
Of young Rogero and Circassia's peer;
Seeing he, for two days, that horse's might
Had taxed too hardly in his long career,
-- As well he for his ease embarked the steed,
As to pursue his way with better speed.

LXXXVII
He straight makes launch the vessel from the marge,
And bids put forth the oars from either side:
Nor big nor deeply laden, she, at large,
Descends the Saone, transported by the tide.
Care never quits him, though the shifting barge
The king ascend, or nimble horse bestride:
This he encounters aye on prow or poop,
And bears behind him on his courser's croup;

LXXXVIII
Rather within his head or heart always
Care sits; whence every comfort is o'erthrown:
No remedy the wretched man surveys,
In that his enemies are in the town.
From others hope is none; since they who raise
This fearful war against him, are his own:
Vext by that cruel one, aye night and day,
Whom he might hope to find his natural stay.

LXXXIX
Rodomont navigates the day and night
Ensuing, aye by heavy thoughts opprest;
Nor can he ever banish the despite,
Suffered from King and Lady, from his breast.
The self-same grief sate heavy on his sprite
Aboard the bark, as when his steed he prest.
Such fire was not by water to be drowned,
Nor he his nature changed by changing ground.

XC
As the sick man who with a fever grows,
And, weak and weary, shifts his place in vain,
Whether he right or left himself bestows,
And hopes in turning some relief to gain,
Finds neither on this side nor that repose,
But everywhere encounters equal pain;
The pagan monarch so found small relief,
By land or water, for his secret grief.

XCI
Rodomont brooked no more aboard to stay,
But bade them land him, and by Lyons hied;
By Vienne and Valence next took his way,
And the rich bridge in Avignon descried.
For these and more, which 'twixt the river lay
And Celtiberian hills upon that side,
(Theirs, from the day they conquered the champaigne)
Obeyed the kings of Afric and of Spain.

XCII
To pass to Afric straight, the cavalier
Kept to the right, towards Acquamorta's shore,
And lighted on a stream and hamlet, dear
To Ceres and to Bacchus, which that Moor
Found quitted by the peasants, in their fear,
As often by the soldier harried sore.
The beach upon one side broad ocean laved,
And on the other yellow harvests waved.

XCIII
Here, newly built upon a hillock's crest,
A little church the Saracen espied;
Abandoned by its priesthood, like the rest,
For war was flaming upon every side.
Rodomont of this place himself possest;
Which, from its site, as well as lying wide
Of fields, from whence he tidings loathed to hear,
So pleased him, he for it renounced Argier.

XCIV
He changed his scheme of seeking Afric's land,
(So this fair spot seemed fit for his behoof!)
And here housed carriages, and steed, and band,
Together with himself, beneath one roof,
At few leagues' distance, did Montpelier stand,
And other wealthy towns, not far aloof.
The village was upon a river's side,
So that its every need might be supplied.

XCV
Here standing, full of thought, upon a day,
(Such was his common wont) the paynim spied,
Advancing by a narrow path, which lay
Through a green meadow, from the adverse side,
A lovely damsel, that upon her way
Was by a bearded monk accompanied;
And these behind them led a lusty steed,
Who bore a burden, trapt with sable weed.

XCVI
Who that attendant monk and damsel were,
And what that burden, will to you be clear,
Remembering Isabella is the fair,
Charged with the corse of her Zerbino dear:
I left her, where from Provence, in the care
Of that good sire, she bowned herself to steer,
By whom persuaded, had the lady given
The remnant of her virtuous life to heaven.

XCVII
Although in her pale face and troubled guise,
The sorrow of that dame is manifest,
Although two fountains are her streaming eyes,
And sobs aye issue from her burning breast,
And more beside of suffering testifies,
With what a load of grief she is opprest,
Yet, in her faded cheek such beauties meet,
Love and the Graces there might fix their seat.

XCVIII
As soon as he of Sarza saw appear
The beauteous dame, he laid the thought aside
Of hatred to that gentle race and dear,
By whom alone the world is glorified;
And best by Isabel the cavalier
Believed his former love would be supplied,
And one love by another be effaced,
As bolt by bolt in timber is displaced.

XCIX
Her with the kindest mien and mildest tone
That he could fashion, met the Sarzan knight;
To whom the dame her every thought made known;
And said, when she was questioned of her plight,
She would with holy works -- this world forgone --
Seek favour in her Heavenly Father's sight.
Loud laughed that godless paynim at the thought,
Who every faith and worship held at nought;

C
And said that she from reason wandered wide,
And termed her project sudden and unsound;
Nor deemed her less to blame than those who hide,
Through greediness, their treasure under ground,
And keep it from the use of all beside,
Though hence no profit to themselves redound.
Rightly were prisoned lion, snake, and bear,
But ill whate'er is innocent and fair.

CI
The monk, that to this talk has lent an ear,
Prompt with advice that mournful dame to stay,
And lest she quit her course, prepared to steer
His bark, like practised pilot, on her way,
A sumptuous table, rich in spiritual cheer,
Had speedily bestirred him to array;
But, born with evil taste, that paynim rude
No sooner tasted, than he loathed, the food.

CII
And having interrupted him in vain,
Nor having power to make him stint his lore,
That paynim, stirred to fury, broke the rein
Of patience, and assailed the preacher hoar.
But haply wearisome might seem the strain,
If I upon this theme dilated more:
So here I close, nor words will idly spend,
Admonished by that ancient's evil end.

CANTO 29

ARGUMENT
Isabel makes the paynim take her head,
Rather than he his wicked will should gain;
Who, having his unhappy error read,
Seeks to appease his wounded spirit in vain.
He builds a bridge, and strips those thither led;
But falls from it with Roland the insane;
Who thence, of him regardless, endlong speeds,
And by the road achieves prodigious deeds.

I
O feeble and unstable minds of men!
How quickly our intentions fluctuate!
All thoughts we lightly change, but mostly when
These from some lover's quarrel take their date.
But now, so wroth I saw that Saracen
With woman, so outrageous in his hate,
I weened not only he would ill assuage,
But never more would calm, his amorous rage.

II
That which he rashly uttered to your blame,
Ye gentle dames, does so my spirit grieve,
Till I his error teach him, to his shame,
He shall no quarter at my hands receive;
So him with pen and page will I proclaim,
That, whosoever reads me, shall believe
He had better held -- aye, better bit, his tongue,
Than ever have your sex with slander stung.

III
But that in this the witless infidel
Spake as a fool, the event demonstrates clear:
Even now, with dagger drawn, that paynim fell
In fury on all women whomsoe'er.
Next him so touched one look of Isabel,
She quickly made his fickle purpose veer;
For her, scarce seen, and to that warrior strange,
He would his Doralice already change;

IV
And, as new love the king did heat and goad,
He moved some arguments of small avail,
To shake her stedfast spirit, which abode
Wholly with God; but he, her shield and mail,
That hermit, lest she from the better road
Should wander, and her chaste intention fail,
With stronger arguments with him contended,
And still, as best he could, the dame defended.

V
The king, who long had taxed himself to bear
The monk's bold sermon to his sore displeasure,
And vainly bade him to his cell repair
Anew, without that damsel, at his leisure,
Yet seeing he would still his patience dare,
Nor peace with him would keep, nor any measure,
Upon that preacher's chin his right-hand laid,
And whatsoe'er he grasped, as rudely flayed.

VI
And (so his fury waxed) that, as it were
With tongs, he griped his neck, and after he
Had whirled him once or twice about in air,
Dismist him form his hand towards the sea.
I say not -- know not, what befel him there:
Many the rumours are, and disagree.
One says he burst upon a rock's rude bed,
And lay one shapeless jelly, heels and head.

VII
He fell into the sea, by one is said,
Distant three miles and more; and, in that sound,
He having prayer, and Ave vainly made,
Because he knew not how to swim, was drowned.
Others report a Saint bestowed his aid,
And dragged him with a visible hand aground.
Whichever be the reading of this mystery,
Of him I speak no further in mine history.

VIII
Cruel King Rodomont, when from his side
He had removed the prating eremite,
With visage less disturbed, again applied
To that sad lady, heartless with affright;
And, in the language used by lovers, cried,
She was his very heart, his life, his light,
She was his comfort, and his dearest hope;
With all such words as have that common scope.

IX
And now, so temperate showed that infidel,
'Twould seem that he no violence designed,
The gentle semblance of fair Isabel,
Enamoured him, so tamed his haughty mind;
And, though he might that goodly kernel shell,
The paynim would not pass beyond the rhind,
Who that its favour would be lost, believed,
Unless 'twere as a gift from her received;

X
And by degrees so thought to mould the dame
To his desires. She in that lone retreat
And savage, open to his evil aim,
And like a mouse, beneath Grimalkin's feet,
Had liefer found herself i' the midst of flame;
And ever on one thought her fancy beat:
If any mode, if any way, remained
To scape that wilful man, untouched, unstained.

XI
Sad Isabella in her mind is bent
To slay herself with her own hand, before
That fell barbarian compass his intent;
And be the means to make her wrong so sore
That cavalier, by cruel Fortune spent,
Within her loving arms, to whom she swore
With mind to him devoted, his to be,
Vowing to Heaven perpetual chastity.

XII
She sees that paynim monarch's passion blind
Increasing still, nor what to do she knows;
Well knows what foul intention is behind,
Which she is all too feeble to oppose:
Yet moving many matters in her mind,
Finds out at last a refuge for her woes,
And means to save her chastity from shame,
(How I shall say) with clear and lasting fame.

XIII
She cried unto that paynim, foul to see,
Already threatening her with word and act,
And now devoid of all that courtesy,
Which he in the beginning did enact,
"If thou mine honour wilt ensure to me,
Beyond suspicion, I, upon this pact,
Will upon thee bestow what shall o'erpay,
By much, that honour thou wouldst take away.

XIV
"For pleasure, which endures so brief a space,
Wherewith this ample world does so o'errun,
Reject not lightly a perpetual grace,
A real joy, to be postponed to none.
Of women everywhere of pleasing face
A hundred and a thousand may be won;
But none beside me, or few others, live
Who can bestow the boon which I can give.

XV
"I know, and on my way a herb did view,
And nearly know where I on this could light,
Which, being boiled with ivy and with rue,
Over a fire with wood of cypress dight,
And squeezed, when taken from the caldron, through
Innocent hands, affords a juice of might,
Wherewith whoever thrice his body laves,
Destructive steel or fire securely braves.

XVI
"If thrice therewith he bathe himself, I say,
His flesh no weapon for a month shall score:
He once a month must to his body lay
Mine unction, for its virtue lasts not more:
This liquor can I make, and will to-day,
And thou to-day shalt also prove my lore:
And well, I trust, thou shalt more grateful be,
Than were all Europe won to-day by thee.

XVII
"In guerdon for this present, I request
That thou to me upon thy faith wilt swear,
Thou never wilt my chastity molest
In word or deed."  So spake that damsel fair;
And Rodomont who heard, again represt
His evil will: for so he longed to bear
A charmed life, that readily he more
Than Isabel of him demanded swore;

XVIII
And will maintain his promise, till the fact
Vouched of that wondrous water shall appear;
And force himself, meanwhile, to do no act,
To show no sign of violence; but the peer
Resolves he will not after keep the pact,
As one who holds not God or saint in fear;
And to that king, regardless of his oath,
All lying Afric yields in breach of troth.

XIX
Argier's perfidious king to Isabel
More than a thousand times assurance swore,
In case that water rendered him what fell
Achilles and what Cygnus were of yore.
She, aye by beetling cliff and darksome dell,
Away from city and from farm, a store
Of herbs collected, nor this while e'er
Abandoned by the paynim cavalier.

XX
When herbs enow by them in many a beat,
With or without their roots, collected were,
At a late hour, the twain to their retreat
Betook them; and, throughout night's remnant, there,
That paragon of continence did heat
What simples she had culled, with mickle care,
While to those mysteries and her every deed
The pagan, present still, gave curious heed;

XXI
Who, wearing out the weary night in sport,
-- He and those followers that with him remained --
Had suffered thirst in such a grievous sort,
From the fierce fire in that small cave contained,
That drinking round, in measure full or short,
Of Graecian wine two barrels had they drained;
A booty which those squires who served the Moor,
From travellers seized a day or two before.

XXII
To Argier's warlike king, unused to wine,
(Cursed, and forbidden by his law, esteemed)
The liquor, tasted once, appeared divine,
Sweeter than nectar or than manna seemed:
He, quaffing largely, now of Ishmael's line
The sober use deserving censure deemed.
So fast their cups with that good wine they fill,
Each reveller's head is whirling like a mill.

XXIII
Meanwhile that lady from the fire does lift
The pot, wherein she cooked those herbs, and cries
To Rodomont: "In proof I not adrift
Have launched the words I spake, in random guise,
-- By that, which can the truth form falsehood sift,
Experience, which can make the foolish wise,
Even now the thing shall to thyself be shown,
Not on another's body, but my own.

XXIV
"I first will trial make" (that lady said)
"Of this choice liquor with rare virtue blest;
Lest haply thou shouldst harbour any dread
That mortal poison form these herbs be prest.
With this will I anoint myself, from head
Downwards below the naked neck and breast.
Then prove on me thy faulchion and thine arm,
And prove if one can smite, the other harm."

XXV
She washed, as said, and gladly did decline
Her neck to that unthinking pagan's brand;
Unthinking, and perhaps o'ercome by wine,
Which neither helm, nor mail, nor shield withstand,
That brutish man believed her, and, in sign
Of faith, so struck with cruel steel and hand,
That her fair head, erewhile Love's place of rest,
He severed from the snowy neck and breast.

XXVI
This made three bounds, and thence in accents clear
Was heard a voice which spake Zerbino's name,
To follow whom, escaping Sarza's peer,
So rare a way was taken by the dame.
Spirit! which nobly didst esteem more dear
Thy plighted faith, and chaste and holy name,
(Things hardly known, and foreign to our time)
Than thine own life and thine own blooming prime!

XXVII
Depart in peace, O spirit blest and fair!
-- So had my verses power! as evermore
I would assay, with all that happy care,
Which so adorns and points poetic lore!
And, as renowned should be thy story rare,
Thousands and thousands of long years and more!
-- Depart in peace to radiant realms above,
And leave to earth the example of thy love!

XXVIII
His eyes from heaven did the Creator bend,
At the stupendous and unequalled feat,
And said: "I thee above that dame commend.
Whose death drove Tarquin from his royal seat;
And I to register a law intend,
'Mid those which ages change not as they fleet,
Which -- I attest the inviolable river --
Unchanged through future times, shall last for ever.

XXIX
"I will that all, in every future age,
Who bear thy name, be blest with genius high;
Be courteous, gentle, beautiful, and sage,
And to the real pitch of honour fly.
That to their glory the historic page
They may with worthy argument supply;
So that for aye Parnassus' hill and well
Shall ring with Isabel and Isabel."

XXX
So spake the Sire; and cleared the ambient air,
And hushed beyond its wont the heaving main.
To the third heaven her chaste soul made repair,
And in Zerbino's arms was locked again.
On earth, with shame and sorrow for his share,
That second Breuse sans pity did remain;
Who, when digested was the maddening bowl,
Lamented sore his error, sad at soul.

XXXI
That placated, or in some content,
The sainted soul of Isabel might be;
That, if to death that damsel he had shent,
He might at least revive her memory,
He, as a means to compass his intent,
Would turn into a tomb that church, where he
Inhabited, and where she buried lies;
To you shall be related in what wise.

XXXII
In all parts round about this chosen site,
For love or fear, he master-masons found;
And, making full six thousand men unite,
Stript of their heavy stones the mountains round,
And raised a fabric ninety yards in height,
From its extremest summit to the ground;
And he within its walls the church enclosed;
Wherein entombed the lovers twain reposed.

XXXIII
This nearly imitates that pile beside
Old Tyber's stream, by Adrian built; and nigh
The sepulchre, will he a tower provide,
Wherein he purposes some time to lie.
A narrow bridge, and only two yards wide,
He flung across the stream which rolled fast by.
Long, but so scanty is that bridge, with pain
The narrow pass two coursers can contain;

XXXIV
Two coursers, that abreast have thither made,
Or else, encountering, on that causeway meet:
Nor any where was ledge or barricade,
To stay the horses's fall, who lost his feet.
He wills that bridge's toll be dearly paid
By Christian or by Moor, who pass his seat;
For with a thousand trophies, arms, and vest,
That damsel's tomb is destined to be drest.

XXXV
Within ten days, or shorter time, was placed
The bridge, whose arch across the stream was dight;
But not that pile and tower with equal haste
Were so conducted to their destined height.
Yet was the last so high, a sentry paced
Its top, who, whensoever any knight
Approached the bridge, was wont his lord to warn,
Sounding a signal on his bugle-horn.

XXXVI
Whereat he armed, and issued for the stower,
Now upon one and now the other side:
For when a warrior pricked towards the tower,
Him from the adverse bank that king defied:
The bridge affords the field their steeds must scour;
And, should one but a little swerve aside,
(Peril unparalleled!) the horse will go
Into the deep and dangerous stream below.

XXXVII
The pagan had imagined, as a pain,
That, risking oft to tumble in the course,
Head-first into that stream, where he must drain
Huge draughts of water in his fall, parforce,
He would assoil and cleanse him from that stain,
Whereof excess in wine had been the source;
As if what ill wine prompts to do or say,
Water, as well as wine, could wash away.

XXXVIII
Soon thitherward flocked many a cavalier;
Some who pursued the beaten road and plain;
Since for way-faring men, who southward steer,
No straighter lay for Italy or Spain:
Their courage and their honour, held more dear
Than life, excited others of the train;
And all, where they had hoped the meed of strife,
Had lost their arms, and many arms and life.

XXXIX
If those he conquers are of pagan strain,
He is content to take their arms and vest:
And of those first arrived the titles plain
Are written, and their arms suspended rest.
But he in prison pens the christened train,
('Twould seem) to be to Argier's realm addrest.
Not yet was brought that building to a head
When thitherward the crazed Orlando sped.

XL
It chanced Orlando, in his furious mood,
Came thither where that foaming river ran;
Where Rodomont beside the mighty flood
Was hurrying on his work; nor yet were done
The tower and tomb, the bridge, scarce finished, stood:
Here -- save his casque was open -- Ulien's son
Steeled cap-a-pee, stood ready armed for fight,
When to the bridge approached Anglantes' knight.

XLI
Orlando running thus his wild career,
The barrier tops, and o'er the bridge would fly,
But sullen Rodomont, with troubled cheer,
Afoot, as he that tower is standing nigh,
For he disdains to brandish sword or spear,
Shouts to him from afar with threatening cry,
"Halt! thou intrusive churl and indiscreet,
Rash, meddling, saucy villain, stay thy feet!

XLII
"Only for lord and cavalier was made,
And not for thee, dull slave, that bridge was meant."
To this no heed insane Orlando paid,
But, fixt upon his purpose, forward went.
"This madman must I school," the paynim said,
And was approaching with the fell intent
Him into that deep river to dispatch,
Nor deeming in such foe to find his match.

XLIII
This while, a gentle damsel sought the place
That towards that bridge across the river rode,
Richly arraid and beautiful of face,
Who sage reserve in her demeanor showed.
'Tis she that, of her Brandimart in chase,
(If you remember, sir,) through every road
And place her lover seeks in anxious wise,
Excepting Paris, where the warrior lies.

XLIV
When Flordelice that bridge and tower was near,
(So was by name the wandering damsel hight)
Grappling with Roland stood the Sarzan peer,
And would into that river pitch the knight.
She, conversant with Brava's cavalier,
The miserable county knew aright;
And mighty marvel in that dame it raised
To see him rove, a naked man and crazed.

XLV
She stopt, the issue of that strife to know,
Wherein those two so puissant warriors vied.
His opposite by might and main to throw,
Into the stream each doughty champion tried.
"How can a fool such mighty prowess show?"
Between his teeth, the furious paynim cried.
And, shifting here and there, was seen to strain,
Brimfull of pride, and anger, and disdain.

XLVI
This hand and now that other he puts out,
To take new hold, where he his vantage spies;
Now within Roland's legs, and now without,
Locks his right foot or left, in skilful wise;
And thus resembles, in that wrestling bout,
The stupid bear, who in his fury tries
The tree, from whence he tumbled, to o'erthrow;
Deeming it sole occasion of his woe.

XLVII
Roland, whose better wit was lost withal,
I know no where, and who used force alone;
That utmost force, to which this earthly ball
Haply affords few paragons, or none,
Let himself backwards in that struggle fall,
Embracing as he stood with Ulien's son.
Together in the foaming stream they sank;
High flashed the wave, and groaned the echoing bank.

XLVIII
Quickly the stream asunder bore the pair.
Roland was naked, and like fish could swim,
Here shot his feet, his arms extended there,
And gained the bank; nor, when upon the brim,
Halted to mark if his adventure were
Achieved with praise or shame: in evil trim,
The pagan, by his arms impeded sore,
With heavier pain and trouble, toiled ashore.

XLIX
Along the bridge which spanned that foaming tide
Did Flordelice meantime securely pace,
And, having vainly sought on every side
Brandimart's bearing, since nor iron case
Nor vest of his she anywhere espied,
She hoped to find the knight in other place.
But here return we of the count to tell,
Who left behind him stream, bridge tower, and cell.

L
'Twere phrensy of his every frantic feat
To promise the relation, one by one;
So many and many, -- should I these repeat,
I know not when my story would be done.
Yet some of his notorious deeds, and meet
For mention in my song, will I make known:
Nor will I not that wondrous one recount,
Near Thoulouse, on the Pyrenaean Mount.

LI
Much country had been traversed by the knight,
Urged by the furious rage which him misguides:
At last he reached the hill whose boundary height
Arragonese and neighbouring Frank divides.
Thither directing aye his course outright,
Where the descending sun his visage hides,
He reached a path upon the rugged steep,
Which overhung a valley dark and deep.

LII
Here he by chance encountered in mid road
Two youths, that wood men were, and drove before
An ass along that pathway, with a load
Of logs; they, marking well what scanty store
Of brain in poor Orlando's head was stowed,
Called to the approaching knight, and threatened sore;
Bidding him stand aside, or else go back,
Nor to their hindrance block the common track.

LIII
To this address Orlando answered nought,
Save that his foot he to their beast applied,
Smote in mid-breast, which, with that vigour fraught,
-- That force exceeding every force beside --
Tost him so hight, that the beholders thought
It was a bird in air which they descried.
The ass upon a mountain-summit fell,
Which rose above a mile beyond that dell.

LIV
Upon those youths next sprang the furious knight.
With better luck than wit, one woodman shear
From that tall cliff, twice thirty yards in height,
Cast himself headlong downward in his fear:
Him a moist patch of brambles, in his flight,
Received; and, amid grass and bushes, here,
From other mischief safe, the stripling lit,
And for some scratches in his face was quit.

LV
That other to a jutting fragment clung,
Who so to gain the higher steep would strive;
Because he hopes, if once those crags among,
To keep him from that fool he may contrive;
But by the feet Orlando, ere he sprung,
Seized him, who will not leave the wretch alive;
And stretching them as wide as he could strain,
So stretched his arms, he rent his prey in twain.

LVI
Even in such mode as often we descry
Falconer by heron or by puller do;
Whose entrails he plucks out, to satisfy
Merlin or falcon that the game pursue.
How happy was that other not to die!
Who risqued his neck in that deep bottom, who
Rehearsed the tale so often, Turpin heard,
And handed down to us the wondrous word.

LVII
These and more marvels does the count, who bends
His steps across that mountain to the plain;
And, seeking long a path, at length descends
Towards the south, upon the land of Spain.
His way along the beach he after wends,
Near Arragon, beside the rumbling main,
And, ever prompted by his phrensy rank,
Will make himself a dwelling on the bank,

LVIII
Where he somedeal may shun the noontide ray,
With dry and powdery sea-sand covered o'er;
And here, while so employed, upon their way
Arrives Angelica with her Medore,
Who, as you have been told in former lay,
Had from the hills descended on that shore.
Within a yard or less approached the fair,
Ere yet she of his presence was aware.

LIX
So different from himself was he to sight,
Nought of Orlando she in him surveyed:
For, from the time that rage possest his sprite,
He had gone naked forth in sun and shade.
Had he been born on hot Syene's site,
Or sands where worship is to Ammon paid,
Or nigh those hills, whence Nile's full waters spin,
Orlando had not borne a dingier skin.

LX
Nigh buried in their sockets are his eyes,
Spare in his visage, and as dry as bone:
Dishevelled is his hair in woeful wise,
With frightful beard his cheek is overgrown:
No sooner is he seen, than backward flies
Angelica, who, trembling sore, is flown:
She shrieking loud, all trembling and dismaid,
Betakes her to her youthful guide for aid.

LXI
When crazed Orlando was of her aware,
To seize the damsel he upsprang in haste;
So pleased the wretched count her visage fair,
So quickly was his mood inflamed: effaced
In him all ancient recollections are,
How she by him was whilom served and graced.
Behind her speech the count and hunts that dame,
As questing dog pursues the sylvan game.

LXII
The youth, that sees him chase his love who fled,
His courser spurs, and in pursuit is gone.
With naked faulchion after him he sped,
And cut and thrust at Roland as he run.
He from his shoulders hoped to cleave his head,
But found the madman's skin as hard as bone;
Yea, harder far than steel, nor to be harmed;
So good Orlando at his birth was charmed.

LXIII
When on his back Orlando felt him beat,
He turned, and turning on his youthful foe,
Smote with clenched fist, and force which nought can meet,
-- Smote on his horse's head, a fearful blow;
And, with skull smashed like glass, that courser fleet
Was by the madman's furious stroke laid low.
In the same breath Orlando turned anew,
And chased the damsel that before him flew.

LXIV
At speed Angelica impelled her mare.
And whipt and spurred her evermore; whom slow
She would esteem, albeit that palfrey were
Yet faster than a shaft dismist from bow:
Her ring she thought upon, and this the fair
Placed in her mouth; nor failed its virtue now;
For putting it between her lips, like light
Extinguished by a puff, she past from sight.

LXV
Was it through fear, or was she, while she stript
This from her finger, shaken in her seat;
Or was it rather, that her palfrey tript,
(For neither this nor that I surely weet)
Angelica, while 'twixt her lips she slipt
The virtuous ring, and hid her visage sweet,
Her stirrups lost; and, tumbling form the sell,
Reversed upon the sand that lady fell.

LXVI
If but two inches short had fallen his prey,
Upon her would have pounced Orlando near;
Who would have crushed her in his furious way,
But that kind Fortune saved her from the peer.
Let her by other theft herself purvey
With other palfrey, as she did whilere;
For never will she have this courser more,
Who chased by swift Orlando scours the shore.

LXVII
Doubt not that she another will provide;
And follow we in mad Orlando's rear;
Whose rage and fury nevermore subside,
Wroth that Angelica should disappear:
After that beast along the sands he hied,
Aye gaining on the mare in this career.
Now, now he touches her, and lo! The mane
He grasps, and now secures her by the rein.

LXVIII
Orlando seizes her with that delight
That other man might seize a damsel fair;
The bit and bridle he adjusts aright,
Springs on her back, and o'er the sea-beach bare
For many miles impels the palfrey's flight,
Without repose or pause, now here, now there:
Nor ever sell or bridle be displaced,
Nor let her grass or heartening forage taste.

LXIX
As in this course to o'erleap a ditch he sought,
Head over heels, she with her rider went:
Nor harmed was he, nor felt that tumble aright;
But she, with shoulder slipt, lay foully shent.
Long how to bear her thence Orlando thought,
And in the end upon his shoulders hent.
He from the bottom climbed, thus loaded sore,
And carried her three bow-shots' length and more.

LXX
Next, for he felt that weight too irksome grow,
He put her down, to lead her by the rein;
Who followed him with limping gait and slow,
"Come on," Orlando cried, and cried in vain;
And, could the palfrey at a gallop go,
This ill would satisfy his mood insane.
The halter from her head he last unloosed,
Wherewith her hind off-foot the madman noosed.

LXXI
'Tis thus he comforts and drags on that mare,
That she may follow with more ease, so led;
Who whiles despoiled of flesh, and whiles of hair,
Is scathed by stones which that ill road o'erspread.
At length the misused beast, with wear and tear
Of the rude rocks, and suffering sore, lies dead.
Orlando nought the slaughtered mare regards,
Nor anywise his headlong course retards.

LXXII
To drag that palfrey ceased he not, though dead,
Continuing still his course towards the west,
And all this while sacked hamlet, farm, and stead,
Whenever he by hunger was distrest;
And aye to glut himself with meat, and bread,
And fruit, he every one by force opprest.
One by his hand was slain, one foully shent;
Seldom he stopt, and ever onward went.

LXXIII
As much, or little less, would do the knight
By his own love, did not that damsel hide;
Because the wretch discerns not black from white,
And harms where he would help. A curse betide
The wonder-working ring, and eke the wight
Who gave it to that lady, full or pride!
Since Roland, but for this, would venge the scorn
He and a thousand more from her had borne.

LXXIV
Would that of her Orlando were possest,
And of all women that are above ground!
For one and all are ingrates at the best,
Nor is in all an ounce of goodness found.
But it is meet I let my hearer rest
Ere my strained chords return a faltering sound,
And that he may less tedious deem the rhyme,
Defer my story till another time.

CANTO 30

ARGUMENT
Great feats achieve Orlando by the way.
The Tartar king is by Rogero slain:
For whom fair Bradamant, his spouse, does stay,
But Fate forbade, that he who wounded lay
To her his plighted promise should maintain.
He after boldly with the brethren made,
Their lord Rinaldo in his need to aid.

I
When Reason, giving way to heat of blood,
Herself from hasty choler ill defends,
And, hurried on by blind and furious mood,
We with the tongue or hand molest our friends,
Though the offence is, after, wept and rued,
The penance which we pay is poor amends.
Alas! I sorrow and lament in vain
For what I said in other angry strain.

II
But like sick man am I, who, sore bested,
Suffering with patience many and many a day,
When against pain he can no more make head,
Yields to his rage, and curses; pain give way,
And with it the impetuous wrath is fled,
Which moved his ready tongue such ill to say;
And he is left his willful rage to rue,
But cannot that which he has done undo.

III
Well hope I, from your sovereign courtesy,
Your pardon, since I crave it, ladies bright;
You will excuse, if moved by madness, I
Rave in my passion; let your censure light
On foe, who treats me so despiteously,
I could not be reduced to worser plight;
Who prompts what sore repents me: Heaven above
Knows how she wrongs me, knows how well I love.

IV
No less beside myself than Brava's peer
And I, nor less my pardon should obtain;
He, who by mead or mountain, far or near,
Had scowered large portion of the land of Spain,
Dragging that jennet in his wild career,
Dead as she was, behind him by the rein;
But, where a river joined the sea, parforce
Abandoned on the bank her mangled corse.

V
And he, who could like any otter swim,
Leapt in and rose upon the further side.
Behold! a mounted shepherd at the brim
Arrived, his horse to water in the tide;
Nor when he saw Orlando coming, him
Eschewed, whom naked and alone he spied.
-- "My jennet for thy hackney were I fain
To barter," cried the madman to the swain:

VI
"Her will I show thee, if thou wilt; who dead
Upon the river's other margin fell;
At leisure may'st thou have her cured," (he said)
"And of no other fault have I to tell.
Give me thy hackney, with some boot instead:
Prythee, dismount thee, for he likes me well."
The peasant, laughing, answered not a word,
But left the fool and pricked towards the ford.

VII
"Hearest thou not? hola! I want thy steed,"
(Cried Roland) and advanced with wrathful cheer.
A solid staff and knotted, for his need,
That shepherd had, wherewith he smote the peer;
Whose violence and ire all bounds exceed,
Who seems withal to wax more fierce than e'er:
A cuff he levels at that rustic's head,
And splits the solid bone, and lays him dead.

VIII
Then leaping on his horse, by different way
The country scowers, to make more spoil and wrack:
That palfrey never more tastes corn or hay;
So that few days exhaust the famished hack.
But not afoot does fierce Orlando stray,
Who will not, while he lives, conveyance lack.
As many as he finds, so many steeds
-- Their masters slain -- he presses for his needs.

IX
He came at last to Malaga, and here
Did mightier scathe than he had done elsewhere;
For now -- besides that the infuriate peer
Of all its people left the country bare,
Nor (such the ravage) could another year
The desperate havoc of the fool repair --
So many houses burnt he, or cast down,
Sacked was a third of that unhappy town.

X
Departing thence, insane Orlando flees
To Zizera, a seaward town, whose site
Is in Gibraltar's bay, or (if you please)
Say Gibletar's; for either way 'tis hight;
Here, loosening from the land, a boat he sees
Filled with a party, and for pleasure dight:
Which, for their solace, to the morning gale,
Upon that summer sea, had spread their sail.

XI
"Hoah! the boat! put back!" the count 'gan cry,
Who was in mind to go aboard their barge:
But vainly on their ears his clamours die:
For of such freight none willingly take charge.
As swiftly as a swallow cleaves the sky,
Furrowing the foamy wave the boat goes large.
Orlando urges on, with straightening knee,
And whip and spur, his horse towards the sea.

XII
He plunged into the waves, at last, parforce;
For vainly would he shun the waters green.
Bathed are knees, paunch, and croup, till of that horse
Scarcely the head above the wave is seen:
Let him not hope to measure back his course,
While smitten with the whip his ears between.
Woe worth him! he must founder by the way,
Or into Africa his load convey.

XIII
Nor poops nor prows does Roland more descry,
For all have launched their shallops, which are wide
Of that dry shore; while from his level eye
Their hulls the tall and shifting surges hide.
He spurs his horse amid the billows high,
Wholly resolved to reach the farther side.
The courser ends his swim and life in fine,
Drained of his strength, and drenched brimfull of brine.

XIV
He sinks, and would with him draw down his load;
But that himself the madman's arms upbear:
With sinewy arms and either palm he rowed,
And puffed and blew the brine before; the air
Breathed softly, and the water gently flowed;
And well was needed weather more than fair:
For if the waters yet a little rise,
Whelmed by the waxing tide Orlando dies.

XV
But Fortune, that of madmen is the guide,
Him from the water drew near Ceuta's shore,
Upon that beach, and of those walls as wide
As twice an archer's hand could shoot at score.
For many days along the bank he hied,
At hazard, ever westward hurrying sore,
Until he came where on the sea-beat strand
Encamped a host of blacks, a countless band.

XVI
Leave we the paladin at will to stray!
To speak of him occasion will come round.
-- Sir, what befel the lady of Catay,
Who scaped, in time, from him of wit unsound,
And afterwards, upon her homeward way,
Was with good bark and better weather bound;
And how she made Medoro, India's king;
Perchance some voice in happier verse may sing.

XVII
To say so many things I am intent,
I mean not to pursue the cavalier.
To Mandricardo my fair argument
It now behoves me, in his turn, to veer
He happily enjoyed, his rival spent,
The beauty, left in Europe without peer,
Since fair Angelica from hence had wended,
And virtuous Isabel to heaven ascended.

XVIII
King Mandricardo, proud that in his right
His lady had adjudged the amorous suit,
Enjoys not her award with full delight;
Since others with him other points dispute.
By young Rogero claimed, that eagle white
Of one disastrous quarrel is the root;
Another moves the king of Sericana
Against the Tartar king, for Durindana.

XIX
Agramant and Marsilius strive in vain,
With labour sore, this tangle to undo;
Nor only cannot they persuade the twain
In peace and concord to unite anew,
But cannot make the valiant Child refrain
From claiming Hector's buckler as his due;
Nor yet Gradasso move the sword to lend,
'Till this, or till that, quarrel have an end.

XX
Rogero brooks not that in other fight
His shield be braced, nor will Gradasso bear
That save against himself the Tartar knight
Should wield the sword Orlando used to wear
"See we, in fine, on whom the chance will light
(Cries Agramant) and further words forbear.
How Fortune rules the matter let us see,
And choose him that of her shall chosen be.

XXI
"And -- would ye do what most would me delight,
And be an obligation evermore --
You shall by casting lots decide your right:
Premising, he whose lot is drawn before
The other, shall upon two quarrels fight:
So he who wins, on his companion's score
Shall win as well as on his own; and who
Loses the battle lose alike for two.

XXII
"Between Rogero and Gradasso, we
Deem there is little difference, rather none;
And wot whichever shall elected be.
In arms will make his martial prowess known,
As for the rest, let doubtful victory
Descend on him whom Heaven is pleased to own!
Upon the vanquished knight no blame shall fall,
But we to Fortune will impute it all."

XXIII
Rogero and Gradasso, at this say
Of Agramant, stood silent, and agreed,
That he whose lot first issued, the assay
Should undertake for both in listed mead.
Thus in two scrolls, inscribed in the same way,
Their names are writ as destined to succeed.
These afterwards are cast into an urn,
Which much they shake and topsy turvy turn.

XXIV
A seely boy then dipt his hand and drew
A billet from the vase, and if befel,
Thereon Rogero's name the assistants knew;
-- Gradasso's left behind -- I cannot tell
How joyed renowned Rogero at the view,
And can as little say what sorrow fell
Upon Gradasso, on the other side;
But he parforce his fortune must abide.

XXV
Gradasso every thought and every deed
Employs, Rogero to instruct and aid,
That in the strife his champion may succeed;
And teaches every sleight he has assaid:
-- How best to manage sword and shield at need --
-- What strokes are feints, and what with vantage made --
And when he should tempt Fortune, when eschew --
Reminds him, one by one, in long review.

XXVI
After the drawing lots and king's award,
What of the day remained the champions spent
As wont, in giving tokens of regard,
To this or to that other warrior sent.
The people, greedy for the fight, toward
The field is gone, and many not content
With wending thither ere the dawn of light,
Upon the place of combat watch all night.

XXVII
The foolish rabble anxiously attends
Those goodly champions' contest for the prize,
A crowd which neither sees nor comprehends
Other than that which is before its eyes.
But they who know what boots and what offends,
-- Marsilius and Sobrino, and the wise --
Censure the fight, and monarch that affords
A field of combat to those martial lords.

XXVIII
Nor what a heavy loss he would sustain
(Cease they to royal Agramant to read)
Were Mandricardo or Rogero slain;
A thing by cruel Destiny decreed.
Since they, to combat against Charlemagne,
Of one of these alone have greater need
Than of ten thousand more, amid which crew
They scarce would find one champion good and true.

XXIX
Agramant recognized this truth; but thought
That ill his royal word could be repealed;
Yet Mandricardo and the Child besought
That they the right, conferred by him, would yield:
More; that the question was a thing of nought,
Nor worthy to be tried in martial field;
And prayed them -- would they not obey his hest
At least somewhile, to let their quarrel rest.

XXX
Five or six months would they the strife delay,
Or more or less, till Charles defeated were,
And stript of mantle, crown, and royal sway.
But each, though he would willingly forbear,
And much desired his sovereign to obey,
Stood out against the Moorish monarch's prayer:
Since either deemed he would be foully shent
Who to this treaty first should yield consent.

XXXI
But more than king, than all, who sought in vain
To soften Agrican's infuriate son,
The beauteous daughter of King Stordilane
Lamented, besought him, woe-begone,
Besought him he would do what all would fain
Behold by the relenting warrior done;
-- Lamenting her, as through the cavalier,
For ever kept in agony and fear.

XXXII
"Alas! and what (exclaims she) can I find
Which may avail to minister repose,
If aye, by this or that desire inclined,
You don your harness to affront new foes?
What boots it to restore my harassed mind
That I behold one fearful quarrel's close,
Against one champion moved for love of me,
If one as fierce already kindled be?

XXXIII
"Woe worth me! I was proud, with little right,
So good a king, so stout a cavalier
For he should in the fierce and dangerous fight
Peril his life, who now, I see to clear,
Upon a ground of strife so passing light,
With the same risk prepares to couch the spear.
You, more than love for me, to strife impels
The natural rage, wherewith your bosom swells.

XXXIV
"But if the love you force yourself to show,
Be in good earnest, that which you profess,
By this I pray you, by that chastening woe
Which does my spirit, does my heart oppress,
Be not concerned, because the bird of snow
Rogero, pictured on his shield, possess.
I know not wherefore you should joy or grieve
That he the blazoned buckler bear or leave.

XXXV
"Much evil may ensue and little gain
Out of the battle you to wage prepare;
Small guerdon will be bought with mickle pain
If from Rogero you his eagle bear;
But if your fortune shifts on listed plain,
She whom you hold not captive by her hair,
You cause an evil with such mischief fraught,
My heart is broken at the simple thought.

XXXVI
"If of small value life to you appear,
And you esteem a painted bird more high,
At least for my life's sake esteem yours dear;
For one without the other shall not die.
With you to die excites in me no fear;
With you, prepared for life or death am I:
Yet would I fain not die so ill content,
As I should die if you before me went."

XXXVII
Accompanying words with tears and sighs,
In such, or such like speech she him did pray,
Throughout that livelong night, in piteous wise,
Hoping her lover's anger to allay;
And Mandricardo, sucking from her eyes
Those sweet tears, glittering in their humid ray,
And that sweet moan, from lips more deeply dyed
Than crimson rose, himself in tears, replied.

XXXVIII
"Alack! my dearest life! take thou no dread,
Alack! for love of Heaven! of thing so light:
For if (to my sole harm) with banners spread,
Their following of the Frank or paynim rite
King Agramant and Charles united led,
This need not cause you matter for affright.
What poor account you make of me is clear
If this one, sole, Rogero breeds such fear.

XXXIX
"And yet should you remember how alone
(Nor had I scimetar or sword in hand)
Of knights, with a spear's truncheon overthrown,
I singly cleared the field, an armed band.
Though to his shame and sorrow this he own,
Gradasso tells to them who make demand,
He was my prisoner in the Syrian tower:
Yet other than Rogero's is his power.

XL
"Not King Gradasso will the truth deny:
Sacripant knows it and your Isolier:
I say King Sacripant of Circassy,
And Aquilant, and Gryphon, famous peer;
With hundreds -- yea and more -- from far and nigh
Made prisoners at that fearful pass whilere,
Baptized or Infidel; and all by me
From prison on the selfsame day set free.

XLI
"And even yet they marvel evermore
At the great feat which I performed that day;
Greater than if the squadrons of the Moor
And Frank united I had held at bay;
And shall Rogero, new to martial lore,
Me, onto to one, with scathe or scorn appay?
And me shall now this young Rogero scare,
When Hector's sword and Hector's arms I wear?

XLII
"Ah! as I might have won you from my foe,
Why did I not for you in arms contend?
I so had them my valour shown, I know,
You would have well foreseen Rogero's end.
For heaven's sake dry your tears, nor by such woe
-- An evil omen for my arms -- offend;
And learn, 'tis Honour pricks me to the field,
And not an argent bird and blazoned shield."

XLIII
So said he; and with reasons passing good
To him that dame replied, with saddest face;
Nor only would have changed his sullen mood,
But would have moved a pillar from its place.
She would the champion quickly have subdued,
Though she was gowned, he locked in iron case;
And make him satisfy the Moorish lord,
If Agramant spake further of accord;

XLIV
And had; but that Aurora -- on his way
Ushering aye the sun -- no sooner stirred,
Than young Rogero, anxious to display
That rightfully he bore Jove's beauteous bird,
To cut the quarrel short, and lest delay
Be further interposed, in act or word,
Where round the palisade the people close,
Appears in armour and his bugle blows.

XLV
When that loud sound is by the Tartar heard,
Which the proud warrior to the strife defies,
No more of treaty will he hear a word:
From bed upspringing, "Arms," the monarch cries,
And shows a visage with such fury stirred,
Doralice dares no longer peace advise,
Nor speak of treaty or of truce anew;
And now parforce the battle must ensue.

XLVI
The Tartar arms himself in haste; with pain
The wonted service of his squires he tarries:
This done, he springs upon the steed amain,
Erewhile the champion's who defended Paris;
And him with speed towards the listed plain,
Fixt for that fierce assay, the courser carries.
Even then the king and barons thither made,
So that the strife was little time delaid.

XLVII
Put on and laced the shining helmets were,
And given to either champion was the spear:
Quickly the trumpet's blast was heard in air,
Whose signal blanched a thousand cheeks with fear.
Levelled those cavaliers their lances bear,
Spurring their warlike steeds to the career,
And, in mid champaign, meet with such a shock,
That Earth appears to rive and Heaven to rock.

XLVIII
From this side and from that, the eagle flew,
Which Jove in air was wonted to sustain;
So hurtled, but with plumes of different hue,
Those others often on Thessalian plain.
The beamy lances, rested by the two,
Well warranted the warriors' might and main,
And worse than that encounter had withstood:
So towers resist the wind, so rocks the flood.

XLIX
As Turpin truly writes, into the sky
Upwent the splinters, broke in the career;
For two or three fell flaming from on high,
Which had ascended to the starry sphere.
The knights unsheathed their faulchions from the thigh,
And, like those who were little moved by fear,
For new encounter wheeled, and, man to man,
Pointing at one another's vizor ran.

L
They, pointing at the vizors' sight, attacked,
Nor with their faulchions at the steeds took aim,
Each other to unhorse, unseemly act!
Since in that quarrel they are nought to blame.
Those err, nor know the usage, why by pact
Deem they were bound their horses not to maim:
Without pact made, 'twas reckoned a misdeed,
And an eternal blot to smite a steed.

LI
They level at the vizor, which is double,
And yet resists such mighty blows with pain.
The champions evermore their strokes redouble
Faster than pattering hail, which mars the grain,
And bruises branch and leaf, and stalk and stubble,
And cheats the hopes of the expecting swain.
To you is known the force of either brand,
And known the force of either warrior's hand.

LII
But yet no stroke well worthy of their might
Those peers have dealt, so cautious are the twain.
The Tartar's faulchion was the first to bite,
By which was good Rogero well nigh slain.
By one of those fell blows which either knight
So well could plant, his shield was cleft in twain;
Beneath, his cuirass opened to the stroke,
And to the quick the cruel weapon broke.

LIII
The assistants' hearts were frozen at the blow,
So did Rogero's danger them appal,
On whom the many's favor, well they know,
And wishes rest, if not of one and all.
And then (had Fortune ordered matters so,
As the most part desired they should befall)
Taken had been the Tartar king or slain;
So had that blow offended all the train.

LIV
I think that blow was by some angel stayed,
To save Rogero from the mischief near:
Yet at the king (nor answer he delayed)
He dealt a stroke more terrible than e'er.
As Mandricardo's head he aims his blade,
But such the fury of the cavalier,
And such his haste, he less my blame deserves,
If slanting from the mark his faulchion swerves.

LV
Had Balisarda smote him full, though crowned
With Hector's helm, the enchantment had been vain.
So reels the Tartar, by that stroke astound,
He from the bristle-hand lets go the rein:
Thrice with his head he threats to smite the ground,
While his unguided courser scowers the plain;
That Brigliadoro, whom by name you know,
Yet, for his change of master, full of woe.

LVI
Never raged trampled serpent, never so
Raged wounded lion, as in fell despite
Raged Mandricardo, rallying from that blow,
Which had deprived of sense the astonied knight;
And as his pride and fury waxes, grow
As much, yea more, his valour and his might.
He at Rogero makes his courser vault,
With sword uplifted high for the assault.

LVII
Poised in his stirrups stood the Tartar lord,
And aiming at his foeman's casque, believed
He with the stroke of his descending sword
Rogero to the bosom should have cleaved;
But from that youth, yet quicker in his ward,
A wound beneath his arm the king received,
Which made wide daylight in the stubborn mail,
That clothed the better armpit with its scale.

LVIII
Rogero drawing Balisarda back,
Out sprang the tepid blood of crimson stain;
Hence Mandricardo's arm did vigour lack,
And with less dint descended Durindane:
Yet on the croup the stripling tumbled back,
Closing his eyelids, through excess of pain;
And memorable aye had been that blow,
Had a worse helmet clothed the warrior's brow.

LIX
For this he pauses not, but spurs amain,
And Mandricardo smites in the right side.
Here little boots the texture of the chain,
And the well wealded metal's temper tried,
Against that sword, which never falls in vain,
Which was enchanted to no end beside,
But that against it nothing should avail,
Enchanted corselet or enchanted mail.

LX
Whate'er that sword takes-in it shears outright,
And in the Tartar's side inflicts a wound:
He curses Heaven and raves in such despite,
Less horribly the boisterous billows sound.
He now prepares to put forth all his might:
The shield, with argent bird and azure ground,
He hurls, with rage transported, from his hand,
And grasps with right and left his trenchant brand.

LXI
"Marry," (Rogero cried,) "it needs no more
To prove your title to that ensign vain,
Which now you cast away, and cleft before;
Nor can you more your right in it maintain."
So saying, he parforce must prove how sore
The danger and the dint of Durindane;
Which smites his front, and with such weight withal,
A mountain lighter than that sword would fall.

LXII
If cleft his vizor through the midst; 'twas well
That from the sight diverged the trenchant blade,
Which on the saddle's plated pommel fell;
Nor yet its double steel the faulchion stayed:
It reached his armour (like soft wax, the shell
Oped, and the skirts wherewith 'twas overlaid)
And trenched upon his thigh a grievous wound;
So that 'twas long ere he again waxed sound.

LXIII
The spouting blood of either cavalier
Their arms had crimsoned in a double drain:
Hence diversly the people guessed, which peer
Would have the better of the warlike twain:
But soon Rogero made the matter clear
With that keen sword, so many a champion's bane:
With this he at that part in fury past
Whence Mandricardo had his buckler cast.

LXIV
He the left side of his good cuirass gored,
And found a passage to the heart below;
Which a full palm above the flank he bored;
So that parforce the Tartar must forego
His every title to the famous sword,
The blazoned buckler, and its bird of snow,
And yield, together with these seeds of strife,
-- Dearer than sword and shield -- his precious life.

LXV
Not unavenged the unhappy monarch dies;
For in the very moment he is smit,
The sword -- for little period his -- he plies,
And good Rogero's vizor would have split.
But that he stopt the stroke in wary wise,
And broke its force and vigour ere it lit;
Its force and vigour broke: for he, below
The better arm, first smote his Tartar foe.

LXVI
Smit was the Child by Mandricardo's hand,
At the same moment he that monarch slew:
He, albeit thick, divides an iron band
And good steel cap beneath it; inches two,
Lies buried in the head the trenchant brand,
The solid bone and sinew severed through.
Astound Rogero fell, on earth reversed,
And from his head a stream of life-blood burst.

LXVII
Rogero was the first who went to ground,
And so much longer did the king delay,
Nigh every one of those who waited round
Weened he the prize and vaunt had borne away.
So, erred his Doralice, that oft was drowned
In tears, and often clad in smiles that day:
She thanked her God, with hands to Heaven extended,
That in such wise the fearful fight had ended.

LXVIII
But when by tokens manifest appear
The live man living and the dead man slain,
The favourers of those knights, with change of cheer,
Some weep and some rejoice, an altered train.
King, lord, and every worthiest cavalier
Crowd round Rogero, who has risen with pain.
Him to embrace and gratulate they wend,
And do him grace and honour without end.

LXIX
Each with Rogero is rejoiced, and feels
That which he utters in his heart; among
The crowd the Sericane alone conceals
Other than what he vouches with his tongue.
He pleasure in his countenance reveals,
With envy at the conquest inly stung;
And -- were his destiny or chance to blame --
Curses whiche'er produced Rogero's name.

LXX
What of Rogero's favour can be said?
What of caresses, many, true, and kind,
From Agramant? that not without his aid
Would have unrolled his ensigns the wind;
Who had to move from Africk been afraid,
Nor would have trusted in his host combined.
He, now King Mandricardo is no more,
Esteems him the united world before.

LXXI
Nor to Rogero lean the men alone;
To him incline as well the female train,
Who for the land of France had left their own,
Amid the troops of Africk or of Spain;
And Doralice, herself, although she moan,
And for her lover, cold and pale, complain,
Save by the griding curb of shame represt,
Her voice, perchance, had added to the rest.

LXXII
I say perchance, nor warrant it I dare,
Albeit the thing may easily be true;
For such his manners, such his merits are,
So beauteous is Rogero's form to view,
She (from experience we are well aware)
So prone to follow whatsoe'er is new,
That not to play the widow's lovelorn part,
She on Rogero well might set her heart.

LXXIII
Though he did well alive, what could be done
With Mandricardo, after he was dead?
'Tis fitting she provide herself with one
That her, by night or day, may bravely stead.
Meanwhile to young Rogero's succour run
The king's physician in his art best read;
Who, having seen the fruits of that fell strife,
Already has ensured Rogero's life.

LXXIV
Agramant bids them diligently lay
The wounded warrior in his tent, and there
Is evermore beside him, night and day;
Him with such love he watches, with such care:
To his bed the Tartar's arms and buckler gay,
So bade the Moorish king, suspended were;
Suspended all, save trenchant Durindana,
Relinquished to the King of Sericana.

LXXV
With Mandricardo's arms, his other weed
Was to Rogero given, and given with these
Was warlike Brigliador, whom on the mead
Orlando left, distraught with his disease.
To Agramant Rogero gave the steed,
Well knowing how that goodly gift would please.
No more of this: parforce my strain returns
To her that vainly for Rogero burns.

LXXVI
Bradamant's torment have I to recount,
While for the courier damsel she did stay:
With tidings of her love to Alban's Mount,
To her Hippalca measured back her way:
She of Frontino first and Rodomont,
And next of good Rogero had to say;
How to the fount anew he had addrest
His way, with Richardetto and the rest;

LXXVII
And how the Child, in rescue of the steed,
Had gone with her to find the paynim rude;
And weened to have chastized his foul misdeed,
That from a woman took Frontino good.
And how the youth's design did ill succeed,
Because the king had other way pursued.
The reason too why to Mount Alban's hold
Rogero had not come, at full she told;

LXXVIII
And fully she to Bradamant exprest
What to excuse himself Rogero said:
She after drew the letter from her breast,
Wherewith entrusted she had thither sped:
With visage which more care than hope confest,
The paper Bradamant received and read;
Which, but that she expected to have seen
Rogero's self, more welcome would have been.

LXXIX
To find herself with written scroll appaid
In good Rogero's place, whom she attends,
Marred her fair visage; which such fear pourtrayed,
Despite and sorrow as her bosom rends.
Ten times the page she kisses, while the maid
As oft to him who writes her heart commends:
The tears alone which trickle from her eyes
Keep it from kindling at her burning sighs.

LXXX
Four times, nay six, she that epistle read,
And willed moreover that as many more
The message by that damsel should be said,
Who word and letter to Mount Alban bore.
This while unceasing tears the lady shed,
Nor, I believe, would ever have given o'er,
Save by the hope consoled, that she anew
Should briefly her beloved Rogero view.

LXXXI
Rogero's word was pledged for his return
When fifteen days or twenty were gone by:
So had he after to Hippalca sworn,
Bidding her boldly on his faith rely.
"From accidents that chance at every turn"
(Cried Bradamant) "what warranty have I,
Alas! -- and such are commonest in war --
That none the knight's return for ever bar?

`    LXXXII
"Alas! alas! Rogero, that above
Myself hast evermore been prized by me,
Who would have thought thou more than me could'st love
Any, and most thy mortal enemy?
And harm'st where thou should'st help; nor do I see
If thou as worthy praise or blame regard
Such tardiness to punish and reward.

LXXXIII
"I know not if thou knowest -- the stones know --
How by Troyano was thy father slain;
And yet Troyano's son, against his foe,
Thou would'st defend, and keep from harm or stain
Such vengeance upon him do'st thou bestow?
And do his vengers, as their meed obtain,
That I, descended of his stock, should be
The martyr of the mortal cruelty?"

LXXXIV
To her Rogero, in his absence, said
The lady these sad words, and more beside,
Lamenting aye; while her attendant maid
Nor once alone, but often, certified
The stripling would observe his faith, and prayed
Her -- who could do no better -- to abide
The Child's arrival till the time came round
When he by promise to return was bound.

LXXXV
The comfort that Hippalca's words convey,
And Hope, companion of the loving train,
Bradamant's fear and sorrow so allay,
That she enjoys some respite from her pain:
This moves her in Mount Alban's keep to stay;
Nor ever thence that lady stirred again
Until the day, that day the youthful knight
Had fixt, who ill observed his promise plight.

LXXXVI
But in that he his promise ill maintained,
No blame upon Rogero should be cast;
Him one or other cause so long detained,
The appointed time parforce he overpast:
On a sick bed, long time, he, sorely pained,
Was laid, wherein a month or more he past
In doubt of death; so deeply him had gored
Erewhile in fight the Tartar monarch's sword.

LXXXVII
Him on the day prefixed the maid attended,
Nor other tidings of the youth had read,
But those he through Hippalca had commended,
And that which after Richardetto said;
Who told how him Rogero had defended,
And freed the captive pair to prison led.
The tidings, overjoyed, she hears repeat;
Yet blended with some bitter is the sweet.

LXXXVIII
For she had heard as well in that discourse,
For might and beauty voiced, Marphisa's praise;
Heard, how Rogero thither bends his course,
Together with that lady, as he says,
Where in weak post and with unequal force
King Agramant the Christian army stays.
Such fair companionship the lady lauds,
But neither likes that union nor applauds.

LXXXIX
Nor light suspicion has she of that queen:
For, were Marphisa beauteous, as was said,
And they together till that time had been,
'T were marvel but Rogero loved the maid:
Yet would she not believe; but hung between
Her hopes and fears, and in Mount Alban stayed;
And close and anxious there, until the day
Which was to bring her joy or sorrow, lay.

XC
This while Mount Alban's prince and castellain,
Rinaldo, first of that fair brotherhood,
-- I say in honour, not in age, for twain
In right of birth before the warrior stood,
Who -- as the sun illumes the starry train --
Had by his deeds ennobled Aymon's blood,
One day at noon, with none beside a page
To serve him, reached that famous fortilage.

XCI
Hither had good Rinaldo now repaired;
Because returning Paris ward again,
From Brava, (whither had he often fared,
As said, to seek Angelica in vain)
He of that pair those evil news had heard.
His Malagigi and his Viviane,
How they were to Maganza to be sent;
And hence to Agrismont his way had bent.

XCII
There, hearing of the safety of that pair,
And of their enemies' defeat and fall;
And how Rogero and Marphisa were
The authors of their ruin; and how all
His valiant brethren and his cousins are
Returned, and harboured in Mount Alban's hall,
Until he there embrace the friendly throng
Each hour appears to him a twelvemonth long.

XCIII
His course to Mont Albano had he ta'en;
And, there embracing wife and children dear,
Mother and brethren and the cousins twain,
(They who were captives to their foe whilere)
A parent swallow seems, amid that train,
Which, with full beak, its fasting youth doth cheer.
With them a day or more the warrior stayed,
Then issued forth and others thence conveyed.

XCIV
Guichard, Duke Aymon's eldest born, and they,
Richard, Alardo, and Richardet' combined,
Vivian and Malagigi, wend their way
In arms, the martial paladin behind.
Bradamant, waiting the appointed day,
Which she, in her desire, too slow opined,
Feigned herself ailing to the brethren true,
Nor would she join in arms the banded crew;

XCV
And, saying that she ailed, most truly said;
Yet 'twas not corporal pain or fever sore,
It was Desire that on her spirit preyed,
Diseased with Love's disastrous fit: no more
Rinaldo in Mount Alban's castle stayed:
With him his kinsman's flower the warrior bore.
How he for Paris journeyed, and how well
He succoured Charles, shall other canto tell.

CANTO 31

ARGUMENT
Rinaldo and Dudon fight; then friendship make,
And to each other fitting honour pay.
Agramant's host the united champions break,
And scatter it, like chaff, in disarray.
Brandimart wages war, for Roland's sake,
With Rodomont, and loses in the fray.
This while, for good Baiardo, with more pain,
Contend Rinaldo and the Sericane.

I
What sweeter, gladder, state could be possest
Than falls to the enamoured bosom's share?
What happier mode of life, what lot more blest,
Than evermore the chains of love to wear?
Were not the lover, 'mid his joys, distrest
By that suspicious fear, that cruel care,
That martyrdom, which racks the suffering sprite,
That phrensied rage, which jealousy is hight.

II
For by all bitters else which interpose
Before enjoyment of this choicest sweet,
Love is augmented, to perfection grows,
And takes a finer edge; to drink and eat,
Hunger and thirst the palate so dispose,
And flavour more our beverage and our meat.
Feebly that wight can estimate the charms
Of peace, who never knew the pain of arms.

III
That which the heart aye sees, though undiscerned
Of human eye, we can support in peace.
To him long absent, to his love returned,
A longer absence is but joy's increase.
Service may be endured, though nought is earned,
So that the hope of guerdon does not cease.
For worthy service in the end is paid,
Albeit its wages should be long delaid.

IV
Scorn, and repulse, and finally each pain
Of suffering love, his every martyrdom,
Through recollection, make us entertain
Delights with greater rapture, when they come.
But if weak mind be poisoned by that bane,
That filthy pest, conceived in Stygian home,
Though joy ensue, with all its festive pleasures,
The wretched lover ill his comfort measures.

V
This is that cruel and envenomed wound
Where neither salve nor portion soothes the smart;
Nor figure made by witch, nor murmured sound;
Nor star benign observed in friendly part;
Nor aught beside by Zoroaster found,
Inventor as he was of magic art.
Fell wound, which, more than every other woe,
Makes wretched man despair, and lays him low!

VI
O' cruel wound! incapable of cure,
Inflicted with such ease on lover's breast,
No less by false suspicion than by sure!
O wound! whose pangs so wofully molest,
They reason and our better wit obscure,
And from it natural bent our judgment wrest:
Wound, which against all reason didst destroy
The damsel of Dordona's every joy!

VII
I speak not of what fatal mischief wrought
Hippalca's and the brother's bitter blow;
I speak of fell and cruel tidings brought
Some few days after; for the former woe,
Weighed with this other, was a thing of nought:
This after some digression will I show:
But first Rinaldo's feats I must declare,
Who with his troop to Paris made repair.

VIII
The following day they met a cavalier,
Towards evening, with a lady by his side;
Sable his shield, and sable was his gear,
Whose ground a bar of silver did divide.
As foremost, and of seeming force, the peer,
Young Richardetto to the joust defend:
He, prompt for battle, wheeled his courser round,
And for the tourney took sufficient ground.

IX
Between those knights no further parley past:
Without more question, charged the martial two.
Rinaldo with the friendly troop stood fast,
And looked to see what issue would ensue.
"Him from his saddle will I quickly cast,
If firm the footing, and mine arm prove true";
Within himself young Richardetto cries:
But that encounter ends in other wise.

X
Him underneath the vizor's sight offends
The stranger champion, of the sable weed,
With force so fell, that he the youth extends
Above two lances' length beyond his steed.
Quickly to venge the knight Alardo wends,
But falls himself astounded on the mead;
Sore handled, and unhorsed by such a stroke,
His buckler in the cruel shock is broke.

XI
His lance Guichardo levelled, when he spied
Outstretched upon the field, the brethren two;
Although "Halt, halt," (renowned Rinaldo cried,)
"For this third course to me is justly due":
But he as yet his helmet had not tied;
So that Guichardo to the combat flew.
He kept his seat no better than the twain;
Forthwith, like them, extended on the plain.

XII
All to be foremost in the joust contend,
Richardo, Malagigi, Viviane:
But to their strife Rinaldo puts an end;
He shows himself in arms before the train,
Saying, " 'Tis time that we to Paris wend;
For us too long the tourney will detain,
If I expect till each his course has run,
And ye are all unseated, one by one."

XIII
So spake the knight, yet spake not in a tone
To be o'erheard in what he inly said;
Who thus foul scorn would to the rest have done.
Both now had wheeled, and fierce encounter made.
In the career Rinaldo was not thrown,
Who all the banded kinsmen much outweighed;
Their spears like brittle glass to pieces went,
But not an inch the champions backward bent.

XIV
The chargers such a rough encounter made,
That on his crupper sank each staggering horse:
Rinaldo's rose so quick, he might be said
Scarcely to interrupt his rapid course:
The stranger's broke his spine and shoulder-blade;
That other shocked him with such desperate force.
When his lord sees him slain, he leaves his seat,
And in an instant springs upon his feet;

XV
And to his foe, that having wheeled anew,
Approached with hand unarmed, the warrior cried:
"Sir, to the goodly courser whom ye slew,
Because, whenas he lived, he was my pride,
I deem, I ill should render honour due,
If thus unvenged by my good arm he died;
And so fall on, and do as best ye may,
For we parforce must meet in new assay."

XVI
To him Rinaldo, "If we for thy horse
Have to contend in fight, and nought beside,
Take comfort, for I ween that with no worse
Thou, in his place, by me shalt be supplied."
-- "Thou errest if thou deem'st his loss the source
Of my regret" (the stranger knight replied);
"But I, since thou divinest not my speech,
To thee my meaning will more plainly teach.

XVII
"I should esteem it were a foul misdeed,
Unless I proved thee also with the brand.
I, if thou in this other dance succeed
Better or worse than me, would understand:
Then, as it please, afoot or on thy steed,
Attack me, so it be with arms in hand.
I am content all vantage to afford;
Such my desire to try thee with the sword!"

XVIII
Not long Rinaldo paused: he cried, "I plight
My promise not to balk thee of the fray;
And, for I deem thou art a valiant knight,
And lest thou umbrage take at mine array,
These shall go on before, nor other wight,
Beside a page, to hold my horse, shall stay."
So spake Mount Alban's lord; and to his band,
To wend their way the warrior gave command.

XIX
To that king paladin with praise replied
The stranger peer; alighting on the plain,
Rinaldo to the valet, at his side,
Consigned the goodly steed Baiardo's rein,
And when his banner he no longer spied,
Now widely distant with the warrior's train,
His buckler braced, his biting faulchion drew,
And to the field defied the knight anew.

XX
And now each other they in fight assail:
Was never seen a feller strife in show.
Neither believes his foeman can avail,
Long, in that fierce debate, against his blow:
But when they knew, well neighed in doubtful scale,
That they were fitly matched, for weal or woe,
They laid their fury and their pride apart,
And for their vantage practised every art.

XXI
Their cruel and despiteous blows resound,
Re-echoing wide, what time the valiant twain
With cantlets of their shields now strew the ground,
Now with their faulchions sever plate and chain.
Yet more behoves to parry than to wound,
If either knight his footing would maintain;
For the first fault in fence, by either made,
Will with eternal mischief be appaid.

XXII
One hour and more than half another, stood
The knights in battle; and the golden sun
Already was beneath the tumbling flood,
And the horizon veiled with darkness dun:
Nor yet had they reposed, nor interlude
Had been, since that despiteous fight begun,
'Twixt these, whom neither ire nor rancour warms,
But simple thirst of fame excites to arms.

XXIII
Rinaldo in himself revolving weighed
Who was the stranger knight, so passing stout;
That not alone him bravely had gainsaid,
But oft endangered in that deadly bout;
And has so harassed with his furious blade,
He of its final issue stands in doubt.
-- He that the strife was ended would be fain,
So that his knightly honour took no stain.

XXIV
The stranger knight, upon the other side,
As little of his valiant foeman knew;
Nor in that lord Mount Alban's chief descried,
In warfare so renowned all countries through.
And upon whom, with such small cause defied,
His faulchion he in deadly combat drew.
He was assured he could not have in fight
Experience of a more redoubted wight.

XXV
He gladly would be quit of the emprize
He undertook to venge his courser's fall;
And, could he, without blame, a mean devise,
Would fain withdraw from that disastrous brawl.
So overcast already were the skies,
Their cruel strokes well nigh fell harmless all.
Both blindly strike; more blindly yet those lords
Parry the stroke, who scarce discern their swords.

XXVI
He of Mount Alban is the first to say,
They should not combat darkling, on the plain;
But should their duel till such time delay
As slow Arcturus should have turned his wain.
(And adds,) as safely as himself might stay
The foe in his pavilion, of his train
As duly tended, honoured, and well seen,
As he in any place had ever been.

XXVII
To pray him has Rinaldo little need:
He courteously accepts him for his host;
And thither the united warriors speed,
Where lies Mount Alban's troop in chosen post.
From his attendant squire a goodly steed,
With sumptuous housings gorgeously embossed,
Rinaldo takes, with tempered sword and spear,
And these bestows upon the cavalier.

XXVIII
For Montalbano's lord the stranger guest,
The baron recognised, with whom he came;
Because, before they reached their place of rest,
The paladin had chanced himself to name;
And (for they brethren were) with love opprest,
His tenderness him wholly overcame;
And touched with kind affection, at his heart,
From his full eyes the tears of pleasure start.

XXIX
Guido the savage was that cavalier,
Who, with Marphisa leagued, the martial maid,
Sansonet, and the sons of Olivier,
Long sailed the sea, as I erewhile have said;
From earlier meeting with his kindred dear
By Pinnabel, the felon knight, delaid;
Seized by that traitor, and by him detained,
To enforce the wicked law he had ordained.

XXX
Sir Guido, when he knew his host to be
Rinaldo, famed above each famous knight,
Whom he had burned with more desire to see
Than ever blindman covets the lost light,
In rapture cries, "What fortune tempted me
With you, my lord, to strive in deadly fight,
Whom long I have beloved, and love, whose worth
I prize above all dwellers' upon earth?

XXXI
"Me on the distant bank of Euxine's flood
(I Guido am yclept) Constantia bare,
Conceived of the illustrious seed and good
Of generous Aymon, as ye likewise are.
To visit you and my bold brotherhood
Is the occasion, hither I repair;
And, where to honour you I had in thought,
I see my coming has but mischief wrought.

XXXII
"But that I neither ye nor the others knew,
Must for so foul a fault be my excuse;
And, if I can amend it, bid me do
Whate'er thou wilt, nor ought will I refuse."
When, on this part and that, between the two,
Of interchanged embraces there was truce,
"Take you no farther thought upon your side
The battle to excuse," Rinaldo cried.

XXXIII
"For in complete assurance that you are
A real offset of our ancient tree,
You could no better testimony bear
Than the tried valour which in you we see;
If your demeanour more pacific were,
We ill should have believed your ancestry:
Since neither lion from the doe proceeds,
Nor fearful pigeon, hawk or eagle breeds."

XXXIV
While neither they through talk their journey stay,
Neither through speed abate their talk, those two
Reached the pavilions where the kinsmen lay:
There good Rinaldo, crying to his crew
That this was Guido, whom so many a day
They had impatiently desired to view,
Much pleased the friendly troop; and, at his sight
All like his father deemed the stranger knight.

XXXV
I will not tell what welcome to the peer
Made Richardet, Alardo, and those twain;
What Malagigi, what Sir Aldigier,
And gallant Vivian, of that kindred train;
What every captain, every cavalier;
What Guido spake, what they replied again:
I for conclusion of my tale will say,
He was well greeted of the whole array.

XXXVI
Ever, I deem, good Guido would have been
Dear to his brethren bold; but welcomed more
Was now the valiant knight, and better seen
That at another time, as needed sore.
When the sun, garlanded with radiance sheen,
Upraised his visage from the watery floor,
Sir Guido and his kinsmen, in a band,
Beneath Rinaldo's banner took their stand.

XXXVI
So one day and another prick the train,
That they to Paris' leaguered gates are nigh,
Scarce ten miles distant, on the banks of Seine;
When, as good Fortune wills it, they descry
Gryphon and Aquilant, the two that stain
Their virtuous armour with a different dye;
Sable was Aquilant's, white Gryphon's, weed;
Good Olivier's and Sigismonda's seed.

XXXVIII
In parley were they by a damsel stayed,
Nor she of mean condition to behold;
That in a snowy samyte was arraid,
The vesture edged about with list of gold:
Graceful and fair; although she was dismaid,
And down her visage tears of sorrow rolled;
Who with such mien and act her speech enforced,
It seemed of some high matter she discoursed.

XXXIX
As Guido them, they gallant Guido knew.
He with the pair had been few days before;
And to Rinaldo: "Behold those! whom few
In valour and in prowess go before,
And if they join your banner, against you
Feebly will stand the squadrons of the Moor."
Rinaldo vouched what valiant Guido told,
How either champion was a warrior bold.

XL
Nor them he less had recognized at sight;
Because (such was the usage of the pair)
One by a vest all black, and one all white,
He knows, and by the ornaments they wear.
The brethren know as well Mount Alban's knight,
And give the warlike kinsmen welcome fair:
They both embrace Rinaldo as a friend,
And of their ancient quarrel make an end.

XLI
They -- erst at feud and with sore hate possest,
Through Truffaldino -- (which were long to say)
Each other with fraternal love carest,
Now putting all their enmity away.
Rinaldo next Sir Sansonet addrest,
Who somewhat later joined that fair array;
And (knowing well his force and mighty thew)
Received the cavalier with honour due.

XLII
When she, that gentle damsel, now more near,
Beholds renowned Rinaldo, him she knows,
Acquainted with each paladin and peer.
She news which sorely grieve the warrior shows;
And thus begin: "My lord, your cousin dear,
To whom its safety Church and Empire owes,
Roland, erewhile so honoured and so sage,
Now roves the world, possest with frantic rage.

XLIII
"Whence woe, so direful and so strange, ensued
Cannot by me to you be signified:
I saw on earth his sword and armour strewed,
Doffed by that peer, and scattered far and wide;
And I a pious knight and courteous viewed
Those arms collecting upon every side,
Who, in the guise of trophy, to a tree
Fastened that fair and pompous panoply.

XLIV
"But from the trophied stem the sword withdrew
The son of Agrican that very day.
Thou mayst conceive what mischief may ensue
To Charles and to the christened host's array,
From loss of Durindana, if anew
The infidels that goodly blade should sway.
Good Brigliador as well, who roved, forsaken,
About those arms, was by the paynim taken.

XLV
"Few days are past, since I in shameful wise
Saw Roland, running naked in his mood,
Sending forth piteous shrieks and fearful cries.
In fine, that he is frantic I conclude;
Nor this had I believed, save with these eyes
That strange and cruel wonder I had viewed."
She added next, how from the bridge's top,
Embraced by Rodomont, she saw him drop.

XLVI
"To whosoe'er I deem not Roland's foe
I tell my tale," (pursued the dame again,)
"That, of the crowd who hear this cruel woe
Some one, in pity to his cruel pain,
May strive the peer in Paris to bestow,
Or other friendly place, to purge his brain.
Well wot I, if such tidings he receive,
Nought unattempted Brandimart will leave."

XLVII
Fair Flordelice was she, the stranger dame;
That his own self to Brandimart more dear:
Who in pursuit of him to Paris came.
That damsel, after, tells the cavalier,
How hate and strife were blown into a flame
Between Gradasso and the Tartar peer,
For Roland's faulchion; fierce Gradasso's prey,
When slain in combat Mandricardo lay.

XLVIII
By accident, so strange and sad, distrust,
Rinaldo is distraught with ceaseless woe:
He feels his heart dissolve within his breast,
As in the sun dissolves the flake of snow;
And, with unchanged resolve, upon the quest
Of good Orlando, every where will go;
In hopes, if he discover him, to find
Some means of cure for his distempered mind.

XLIV
But since his band already had he dight,
(Did him the hand of Heaven or Fortune sway)
He first to put the Saracens to flight,
And raise the siege of Paris, will assay.
But (for it promised vantage) he till night
The assault of their cantonments will delay,
Till the third watch or fourth, when heavy sleep
Their senses shall in Lethe's water steep.

L
His squadron in the wood he placed, and there,
Ambushed, he made them lie the daylight through;
But when the sun, leaving this nether air
In darkness, to his ancient nurse withdrew;
And fangless serpent now, and goat, and bear,
With other beasts, adorned the heavens anew,
Which by the greater blaze had been concealed,
Rinaldo moved his silent troop afield.

LI
A mile an-end with Aquilant he prest,
Gryphon, Alardo, and Vivian of his race,
Guido and Sansonetto, and the rest,
Without word spoken, and with stealthy pace.
The Moorish guard they find with sleep opprest:
They slaughter all, nor grant one paynim grace;
And, ere they were by others seen or heard,
Into their midmost camp the squadron spurred.

LII
At the first charge on that unchristened band,
Their guard and sentries, taken by surprise,
So broken are by good Rinaldo's brand,
No wight is left, save he who slaughtered lies.
Their first post forced, the paynims understand
No laughing matter is the lord's emprize;
For. sleeping and dismaid, their naked swarms
Make small resistance to such warriors' arms.

LIII
To strike more dread into the Moorish foe,
Mount Alban's champion, leading the assault,
Bade beat his drums and bade his bugles blow,
And with loud echoing cries his name exalt.
He spurs Baiardo, that is nothing slow;
He clears the lofty barriers at a vault,
Trampling down foot, o'erturning cavalier,
And scatters booth and tent in his career.

LIV
Is none so bold of all that paynimry
But what his stiffened hair stands up on end,
Hearing Mount Alban's and Rinaldo's cry
From earth into the starry vault ascend.
Him the twin hosts of Spain and Afric fly,
Nor time in loading baggage idly spend;
Who will not wait that deadly fury more,
Which to have proved so deeply irks them sore.

LV
Guido succeeds; no less their foe pursue,
The valiant sons of warlike Olivier,
Alardo, Richardet, and the other two;
Sansonet's sword and horse a pathway clear;
And well is proved upon that paynim crew
The force of Vivian and of Aldigier.
Thus each bestirs himself like valorous knight,
Who follows Clermont's banner to the fight.

LVI
Seven hundred men with good Rinaldo speed,
Drawn from Mount Alban and the townships nigh
-- No fiercer erst obeyed Achilles' lead --
Enured to summer and to winter sky:
So stout each warrior is, so good at need,
A hundred would not from a thousand fly;
And, better than some famous cavaliers,
Many amid that squadron couch their spears.

LVII
If good Rinaldo gathers small supplies
From rents or cities, which his rule obey,
So these he bound by words and courtesies,
And sharing what he had with his array,
Is none that ever from his service buys
Deserter by the bribe of better pay.
Of Montalbano these are left in care,
Save pressing need demands their aid elsewhere.

LVIII
Them now in succour of King Charles he stirred,
And left with little guard his citadel.
Among the Africans that squadron spurred,
That squadron, of whose doughty feats I tell,
Doing by them what wolf on woolly herd
Does where Galesus' limpid waters well,
Or lion by the bearded goat and rank,
That feeds on Cinyphus's barbarous bank.

LIX
Tidings to Charles Rinaldo had conveyed,
That he for Paris with his squadron steers,
To assail, by night, the paynims ill purveyed;
And ready and in arms the king appears.
He, when his help is needed, comes in aid,
With all his peerage, and, beside his peers,
Brings Monodantes' son, amid that crew,
Of Flordelice the lover chaste and true;

LX
Whom by such long and by such tedious way
She sought throughout the realm of France in vain;
Here by the cognizance, his old display,
Afar, by her distinguished from the train.
At the first sight of her he quits the fray,
And wears a semblance loving and humane.
He clipt her round with many a fond caress,
And kissed a thousand times, or little less.

LXI
To dame and damsel in that ancient age
They trusted much, that, in their wandering vein,
Roved, unescorted, many a weary stage,
Through foreign countries and by hill and plain;
Whom they returning hold for fair and sage,
Nor of their faith suspicion entertain.
Here Brandimart by Flordelice was taught
How Roland wandered, of his wits distraught.

LXII
Had he such strange and evil tidings heard
From other lips, he scarce had these believed:
But credited fair Flordelice's word,
From whom more wondrous things he had received,
Nor this, as told by other, she averred;
This had she seen, and ill could be deceived;
For well as any she Orlando knows;
And both the when and where that damsel shows.

LXIII
She tells him how the perilous bridge's floor
From cavaliers king Rodomont defends;
Where, on a pompous sepulchre, the Moor
His prisoners' ravished arms and vest suspends;
Tells how she saw Orlando, raging sore,
Do fearful deeds, and her relation ends,
Describing how the paynim fell reversed,
To his great peril, in the stream immersed.

LXIV
Brandimart, who the Country loves as dear
As man can love a brother, friend, or son,
Disposed to seek Orlando, far and near,
Nor pain nor peril in the adventure shun,
Till something for the comfort of that peer
By wizard's or by leech's art be done,
Armed as he is, leaps lightly on his steed,
And takes his way beneath the lady's lead.

LXV
Thitherward were Orlando she had spied,
In company the knight and lady made.
They daily post till to that bridge they ride,
Which Argier's king maintained, in arms arraid,
To him the guard their coming signified;
Courser and arms his squires as well conveyed;
And Brandimart no sooner is at hand
Than Rodomont is armed and at his stand.

LXVI
With lofty voice the sovereign of Argier,
Assorting with his moody rage, 'gan say:
" -- Whoe'er thou art, sir knight, and whencesoe'er --
Brought by mistake of purpose or of way,
Light from thine horse and doff thy warlike gear,
To deck this sepulchre, ere thee I slay,
An offering to its lovely tenant's spirit;
And thou in thy forced homage have no merit."

LXVII
Brandimart, at the paynim's proud discourse,
His weapon in the rest, for answer, layed;
He good Batoldo spurred, his gentle horse,
And at the champion with such fury made,
As showed that he, for courage and for force,
With any warrior in the world had weighed.
King Rodomont as well, with rested spear,
Thundered along the bridge, in fierce career.

LXVIII
The paynim's courser, ever used to go
Upon that bridge's fearful pass, where one
Fell prone parforce into the stream below,
Securely to the fierce encounter run:
While, trembling, and irresolute in show,
That other to the unwonted course is gone.
Quivers the bridge beneath, as it would sink:
Narrow that passage is, unfenced the brink!

LXIX
With heavy spears, the growth of forest hoar,
Saplings rough-hewn, those masters of the just,
Upon the perilous bridge encountering sore,
Exchange, on either side, no gentle thrust.
Nor much their mighty strength or manege-lore
Avails the steeds; for, prostrate in the dust,
Crumbles each knight and charger in mid-course;
Whelmed in one fate, the rider and his horse.

LXX
When either steed would nimbly spring from ground,
As the spur galled and gored his bleeding flank,
He on that little bridge no footing found;
For all to narrow was the scanty plank.
Hence both fall headlong, and the deafening sound
Re-echo vaulted skies and grassy bank.
So rang our stream, when from the heavenly sphere
Was hurled the sun's ill-fated charioteer.

LXXI
With all their weight, down hurtled from the steep,
Coursers and cavaliers, who sate them well;
And dived into the river's darksome deep,
To search for beauteous nymph in secret cell.
Nor this the first nor yet the second leap
Which from the bridge had made that infidel!
Who, often floundering in its oozy bed,
Well in the soundings of that stream was read.

LXXII
He where 'tis hand and where 'tis softer knows,
Where shallow is the water, where profound:
With breast and flanks above the waves he rose,
And Brandimart assailed on safer ground.
Brandimart, whirling with the current, goes,
While his steed's feet the faithless bottom pound.
He, with his lord, stands rooted in the mud,
With risk to both of drowning in the flood.

LXXIII
Whelming them upside-down, the waters flow,
And plunge them in the river's deepest bed;
The horse is uppermost, the knight below.
From the bridge looks his lady, sore bested,
And tear employs, and prayer, and suppliant vow:
-- "Ah, Rodomont! for love of her, whom dead
Ye worship, do not deed of such despite!
Permit not, sir, the death of such a knight.

LXXIV
"Ah! courteous lord! if e'er you loved withal,
Have pity upon me who love this peer;
Let it suffice that he become thy thrall!
For if thou on this stone suspend his gear,
Amid whatever spoils adorn the wall,
The best and worthiest will his spoils appear."
She ended, and her prayer so well addrest,
It touched, though hard to move, the paynim's breast.

LXXV
Moved by her words, he lent her lover aid,
So by his courser in the stream immersed;
And largely drank, albeit with little thirst.
But Rodomont a while his help delayed,
And seized the warrior's sword and helmet first.
Him half exhausted from the stream he drew,
And prisoned with that other captive crew.

LXXVI
All happiness was in that damsel spent,
When taken she her Brandimart espied,
Although to see him captive more content,
Than to behold him perish in the tide.
None but herself she blames for the event,
Who thitherward had been the champion's guide,
She having to that faithful warrior shown,
How at the bridge Orlando she had known.

LXXVII
She parts, and has anew already planned
Thither with good Rinaldo to resort;
With Guido, Sansonet of doughty hand,
Or other cavalier of Pepin's court;
Some warrior good by water and by land,
That with the Saracen will well assort.
Who, if no stronger than her baffled knight,
With better fortune may maintain the fight.

LXXVIII
For many days the damsel vainly strayed,
Ere she encountered any one who bore
Semblance of knight, that might afford her aid,
And free her prisoned lover from the Moor;
After she long and fruitless search had made,
At length a warrior crost her way, that wore
A richly ornamented vest, whose ground
With trunks of cypresses was broidered round.

LXXIX
Who was that champion, shall be said elsewhere;
For I to Paris must return, and show
How Malagigi and Rinaldo are
Victorious o'er the routed Moorish foe.
To count the flyers were a useless care,
Or many drowned in Stygian streams below.
The darkness rendered Turpin's labour vain,
Who tasked himself to tell the pagans slain.

LXXX
King Agramant in his pavilion lies,
From his first sleep awakened by a knight:
He that the king will be a prisoner cries,
Save he with speed betake himself to flight,
The monarch looks about him and espies
His paynim bands dispersed in panic fright.
Naked, they far and near desert the field;
Nay, never halt to snatch the covering shield.

LXXXI
Uncounselled and confused, the king arrayed
His naked limbs in knightly plate and chain,
When thither Falsiron, the Spaniard, made
Grandonio, Balugantes, and their train:
They to the Moorish king the risk displayed
Of being taken in that press, or slain;
And vouched if thence he should in safety fare,
He well might thank propitious Fortune's care.

LXXXII
Marsilius so, Sobrino so, their fear
Express; so, one and all, the friendly band;
They warn him that Destruction is as near
As swift Mount Alban's lord is nigh at hand.
And if against so fierce a cavalier,
And such a troop, he seeks to make a stand,
He and his friends in that disastrous strife
Will surely forfeit liberty or life.

LXXXIII
But he to Arles and Narbonne may retreat,
With such few squadrons as his rule obey:
Since either is well fortified, and meet
The warfare to maintain above one day;
And having saved his person, the defeat
May venge upon the foe, by this delay:
His troops may rally quickly in that post,
And rout in fine King Charles' conquering host.

LXXXIV
Agramant to those lords' opinion bent,
Though that hard counsel he could ill endure;
As if supplied with wings, towards Arles he went,
By roads which offered passage most secure.
Beside safe guides, much favoured his intent
His setting out, when all things were obscure.
Scaping the toils by good Rinaldo spread,
Some twenty thousand of the paynims fled.

LXXXV
Those whom Rinaldo, whom his brethren slew,
Whom Oliviero's sons, the valiant twain,
Those who were slaughtered by Mount Alban's crew,
-- The fierce seven hundred, good Rinaldo's train --
Those whom the valiant Sansonet o'erthrew,
And those that in their flight were drowned in Seine,
He who would count, might count as well what flowers
Zephyr and Flora shed, mid April-showers.

LXXXVI
Here one conjectures Malagigi bore
A part in the alarum of that night:
Not that he stained the mead with paynim gore,
Nor splintered heads; but that the wizard wight,
Infernal angels, by his magic lore,
Called from Tartarean caverns into light;
Whose many spears and banners waving wide
Two kingdoms such as France had scarce supplied.

LXXXVII
And with them such sonorous metal brayed,
So many drums and martial noises sounded;
So many steeds in that encounter neighed;
So many cries -- with rush of foot confounded --
Rose all about, that hill, dale, wood, and glade,
From distant parts, the deafening din rebounded;
And struck into the Moors such sudden dread,
They turned and from the field in panic fled.

LXXXVIII
Their king forgets no, how Rogero lay
Sore wounded, and as yet in evil case.
Him, with what care they could, he made convey
From that dread field, on horse of easy pace.
Borne to the sea by the securest way,
They in a bark the suffering warrior place,
And thence commodiously to Arles transport;
Whither their wasted squadrons make resort.

LXXXIX
Chased by Rinaldo and King Charlemagne,
A hundred thousand, or well nigh, I ween,
By wood, by mountain, valley, and by plain,
Flying the fury of the Franks are seen;
More find the passage blocked, and widely stain
With crimson what before was white and green.
Not so Gradasso's puissant troops was spent,
Who farther from the field had pitched his tent.

XC
Nay; when he hears it is Mount Alban's knight
By whom assailed the paynim quarters are,
He in his heart exults, with such delight,
That he, for very joy, leaps here and there.
He thanks and lauds his God, who him that night
Blest with so high a fortune and so rare;
Hoping to win the horse without a peer,
Baiardo, from the Christian cavalier.

XCI
Gradasso had desired long time before
(I think you will have read the tale elsewhere)
To back that courser, which Rinaldo bore,
And Durindana by his side to wear:
He with a hundred thousand men and more
To France, with this design, had made repair;
And had erewhile to bloody fight defied,
Even for that good steed, Mount Alban's pride.

XCII
Hence had that king repaired to the sea-shore,
The place assigned to end their discord fell:
But all was marred by Malagigi's lore;
Who, cheating good Rinaldo with a spell,
To sea the champion in a pinnace bore.
Too tedious were the tale at length to tell.
Hence evermore Gradasso had opined,
The gentle baron was of craven kind.

XCIII
Now that Gradasso learns Mount Alban's peer
Is he, that storms the camp, in huge delight,
Armed, on Alfana leaps the cavalier,
And through the pitchy darkness seeks the knight,
O'erturning all who cross his fierce career,
He leaves afflicted and in piteous plight
The broken bands of Afric and of France.
All, food alike for his wide-wasting lance.

XCIV
He seeks the paladin, now here now there,
Echoing his name as loud as he can shout;
And thitherward inclines his courser, where
The bodies are most thickly strown about.
At length encounter, sword to sword, the pair,
For broken are alike their lances stout;
Which shivering in their hands, had flown upright.
And smote the starry chariot of the Night.

XCV
When King Gradasso recognized the foe,
Not by the blazoned bearing of his shield,
But by Baiardo -- by that horrid blow,
Which made him seem sole champion of the field,
He to reproach the knight was nothing slow,
And of unworthy action him appealed;
In that he had not kept his ground and day,
Erewhile appointed for the fierce assay.

XCVI
"Belike thou hoped," (said he of Sericane,)
"If for that time my vengeance thou couldst fly,
We should not meet in this wide world again:
But we are met, thou seest, anew; and I,
Be sure, though thou shouldst seek the Stygian reign,
Or be from earth translated to the sky,
Will hunt thee, save that courser thou forego,
Be it through heaven above or hell below.

XCVII
"Dost thou, as matched with me mistrust thy force,
(And that thou wert ill paired was seen whilere,)
And more esteemest life than fame, a course
Remains, which thee may from thy peril clear.
And thou, if thou in peace resign the horse,
May'st live, if life be deemed so passing dear;
But live afoot, unmeriting a steed,
That dost by chivalry such foul misdeed."

XCVIII
Guido the savage, as he spake, was nigh
With Richardetto; and the warlike twain
Brandished alike their trenchant swords on high,
To teach more wit to him of Sericane:
But them Rinaldo stopt with sudden cry,
Nor brooked that he should injury sustain.
"Am I too weak," (he cried,) "without your aid,
To answer him that dares my deeds upbraid?"

XCIX
Then to the pagan thus: "Gradasso hear,
And wilt thou listen, thou shalt understand,
And I will prove it manifest and clear,
I came to seek thee out upon the strand;
And afterwards on thee will made appear
The truth of all I say with arms in hand;
Know then thou liest, if e'er with slanderous speech
Thou taxest me with aught in knighthood's breach.

C
"But warmly I beseech thee, that before
The battle be, thou fully comprehend
My just excuses, that thou may'st no more
Me for my failure wrongly reprehend:
Next for Baiardo, as agreed of yore,
'Tis my desire that we afoot contend;
Even as ordained by thee, in desert place,
Alone in knightly duel, face to face."

CI
Courteous was Sericana's cavalier,
(For generous bosoms aye such practise use)
And is content to listen to the peer,
How he his breach of promise will excuse.
With him he seeks the river side, and here
In simple words what chanced Rinaldo shews;
Form the true history removes the veil,
And cites all Heaven to witness to his tale.

CII
Next calls upon the son of Buovo, who
Is of that history informed aright;
And now, from point to point, relates anew
(Nor more nor less rehearsed) the magic sleight.
When thus Rinaldo: "What I warrant true
By witness, I with arms in single fight,
For better proof, will vouch upon thy crest,
Both now and ever, as it likes thee best."

CIII
The king of Sericane, as loath to leave
The second quarrel for the former breach,
Though doubtful how that tale he should receive,
Takes in good part the bold Rinaldo's speech.
Not, as upon the former battle's eve,
They choose their ground on Barcellona's beach:
But on the morn ensuing, and, fast by
A neighbouring fountain, will the question try.

CIV
Thither Rinaldo will the steed convey,
There to be placed in common, 'twixt the two.
If good Gradasso take his foe or slay,
He wins Baiardo without more ado.
But if Gradasso fails in that affray,
-- Should he be slain, or else for mercy sue,
A prisoner to Mount Alban's valiant lord,
Rinaldo shall possess the virtuous sword.

CV
With mighty marvel and with greater pain,
The paladin from Flordelice (as shown)
Had heard how troubled was his cousin's brain.
And from the damsel's lips as well had known
How he his arms had scattered on the plain;
And heard the quarrel which from thence had grown;
In fine, how King Gradasso had the brand,
Which won such thousand palms in Roland's hand.

CVI
When they so agreed, Gradasso made
Thither where, camped apart, his servants lay,
Albeit warmly by Rinaldo prayed,
He would with him in his pavillion stay.
The paynim king in armour was arrayed,
And so the paladin, by break of day;
And to the destined fount came either lord,
The field of combat for the horse and sword.

CVII
It seemed Rinaldo's friends were all in fear,
And dreaded much, before it was begun,
The issue of the fight their cavalier
Should wage against Gradasso, one to one.
Much force, much daring, and much skill appear
In that fierce king; and since of Milo's son
The goodly sword was to his girdle tied,
All cheeks looked pale upon Rinaldo's side;

CVIII
And Malagigi, more than all the rest,
Sore doubted the event which would ensue,
He willingly himself would have addrest
To disappoint the destined fight anew;
But fears if he that deadly strife arrest,
Rinaldo's utter enmity to rue,
Yet wroth with him upon that other score,
When he conveyed the warrior from the shore.

CIX
Let others nourish idle grief and fears!
Rinaldo wends afield secure and gay,
Hoping that shame, which to the knight appears
Too foul to be endured, to wipe away:
So that of Altafoglia and Poictiers,
He may for ever silence the mis-say.
Boldly, and in his heart secure to win
That battle's honour, wends the paladin.

CX
When now from either side those warriors meet,
Nigh at the same time at the fountain-side,
So in all points the pair each other greet,
With countenance, so kind, so satisfied,
'Twould seem by kindred and by friendship sweet
Rinaldo and Gradasso were allied.
But how they after closed in fierce affray,
I till another season shall delay.

CANTO 32

ARGUMENT
To her that does for her Rogero stay,
Tidings are brought which irk the damsel sore,
That fair Marphisa caused the youth's delay;
She bent to slay her, grieving evermore,
Departs, and overtakes, upon the way,
Ullania with the three kings who rode before.
These she o'ercomes, and had o'ercome that maid,
But that an evil law she disobeyed.

I
I recollect that I was bound to sing
(I promised so, but it escaped my mind)
Of a suspicion, fraught with suffering
To Bradamant of more displeasing kind,
And made by keener and more venomed sting
Than caused that other wound, wherewith she pined,
Which, hearing Richardet his news impart,
Had pierced her breast and preyed upon her heart.

II
So was I bound to sing, but I begun
Another song, Rinaldo crossed my way,
And then those deeds by savage Guido done,
Kept me employed and caused no small delay;
And so from subject I to subject run,
That I forgot of Bradamant to say.
I now remember, and will tell you, ere
You of Rinaldo or Gradasso hear.

III
But it behoves, ere more of these be said,
I should awhile of Agramant discourse,
Who had from that night's raging fire conveyed
To Arles, the remnant of his scattered force:
Since to unite his troops, and furnish aid
And victual, 'twas a place of much resource,
Seated upon a river, nigh the shore,
With Spain in front and Africa before.

IV
With horse and foot, of good or evil sort,
Marsilius throughout Spain their loss repairs;
And each armed back in Barcellona's port,
Furnished through love or fear, for sea prepares.
The Moor to council daily calls his court;
Nor care nor cost the watchful monarch spares:
Meanwhile sore taxes and repeated cess,
All Africa's o'erburdened towns oppress.

V
He offers Rodomont, if to his side
He will return, but offers him in vain,
Renowned Almontes' daughter, as a bride;
His cousin she, her portion Oran's reign.
He lures not from his bridge that knight of pride,
Who has so many sells, such plate and chain
Collected there, from cavaliers o'erthrown,
As serve to hide the monumental stone.

VI
Marphisa would not such a course pursue:
Nay, the redoubted damsel hearing said
That Agramant, subdued by Charles's crew,
-- His choicest warriors taken, chased, or dead --
In Arles was sheltered with his broken few,
Thither, unbidden by the monarch, sped,
Prompt to assist him with her friendly blade;
And proffered purse and person in his aid.

VII
As a free gift to him the martial fair
Brunello bore, nor had she done him wrong.
He, for ten days and nights, to swing in air,
Had sorely feared, from lofty gallows hung:
But seeing him unhelped by force or prayer
Of any one amid the paynim throng,
She thought foul scorn to stain her generous hands
With such base blood, and loosed the losel's bands.

VIII
She pardoned every ancient injury,
And him to Agramant in Arles conveyed.
Well may you fancy with what joy and glee
The monarch greeted her who brought him aid;
He in Brunello's fate wills all shall see
In what esteem he holds that warlike maid;
For he in earnest does upon her foe
What fierce Marphisa menaced but in show.

IX
The hangman hung his corpse in desert field,
The craving vulture and the crow to feed.
Rogero, that erewhile had been his shield,
And from the noose that caitiff would have freed,
Heaven's justice willed, now lay with wound unhealed,
Nor could assist the craven in his need;
And when the news were known, the knot was tied;
So that Brunello, unassisted, died.

X
This while does good duke Aymon's daughter mourn,
Because those twenty days so slowly trail:
-- Which term elapsed -- Rogero should return,
And be received into her church's pale.
Time halts not more with him to foreign bourne
Exiled, with prisoner pent in noisome jail,
Pines the poor wretch for liberty and light,
Or his loved land, desired and gladsome sight!

XI
Aye sick with hope deferred, the expecting maid,
That Phoebus' steeds were foundered one while deemed;
Then that his wheels were out of frame, so stayed,
Beyond the wonted term, his chariot seemed.
Yet longer than that day when Faith delayed
The sun, which on the righteous Hebrew beamed,
Or than that night Alcides was conceived,
She every day and every night believed.

XII
How oft of dormouse, badger, or of bear,
The heavy slumber would she fain partake!
For she that time in sleep would waste and wear;
Nor such prolonged repose desired to break;
Nor wished the damsel any sound to hear,
Until Rogero's voice should her awake:
But not alone is this beyond her power;
She cannot close her eyes one single hour.

XIII
She here and there, throughout the livelong night,
Tosses and turns, nor ever finds repose;
And still, impatient for the dawn of light,
From time to time she to her window goes,
To see if Tithon's spouse the lily white
Yet scatters mingled with the crimson rose.
Nor less desires the damsel, when 'tis morn,
To see the golden stars the heaven adorn.

XIV
When, saving some four days, the term was ended,
Appointed for the youthful warrior's stay,
She, full of hope, the messenger attended
From hour to hour, that should arrive, and say,
"Behold Rogero comes"; and oft ascended
A turret, from whose top she might survey
Gay champaign, wood, and, mid the wide expanse,
A portion of the road, that led to France.

XV
When shining arms at distance she perceives,
Or any thing that speaks a cavalier,
'Tis her desired Rogero, she believes;
And her fair eyes and brows are seen to clear.
If footman, or unarmed, the maid conceives,
It is a courier from the youthful peer;
And, though fallacious every hope she feeds,
Another and another aye succeeds.

XVI
And then she arms, and will the warrior meet;
And from the hill descends into the plain:
She finds him not, and to Montalban's seat
Hopes he by other road his way has ta'en.
In the design, wherewith she moved her feet
From thence, she to her fort returns in vain;
Nor finds him here nor there; meanwhile expired
The period whose approach she so desired.

XVII
-- The period so prefixt o'erpast by one,
By two, three, six, by eight, by twenty days --
She seeing not her spouse, and tidings none
Receiving of the youth, laments 'gan raise,
Which had from snake-haired Furies pity won,
In those dark realms that Rhadamanthus sways.
She smote her eyes divine, and bosoms fair;
She rent the tresses of her golden hair.

XVIII
"Can it be true?" -- (she cried) -- "Shall I be fain
To follow one, that strives to hide and fly?
Esteem a man that has me in disdain?
Pray him that never hears my suppliant cry?
Suffer who hates me o'er my heart to reign?
One that his lofty virtues holds so high,
'Twere need some heaven-born goddess should descend
From realms above, his stubborn heart to bend?

XIX
"Proud youth! he knows my worship and my love,
Nor me will have for lover or for slave.
The cruel stripling knows what pangs I prove,
Yet will not aid me till I am in my grave.
Nor let me tell my sorrows, lest they move
Him his perverse and evil will to wave;
Shunning me like malignant asp, that fears
To change his mood, if he the charmer hears.

XX
"Ah! Love, arrest this wight who runs so free,
Outstripping my slow feet, or me install
In the condition whence thou tookest me,
Such as I was, ere thine or other's thrall.
-- Alas! how vain the hope! that thou shouldst be
Ever to pity moved by suppliant call,
Who sport, yea feed and live, in streams that rise
From the distracted lover's brimming eyes.

XXI
"But, woe is me, alas! and, what can I
Save my irrational desire lament?
Which makes me soar a pitch so passing high,
I reach a region, where my plumes are brent;
Then, unsustained, fall headlong from the sky;
Nor ends my woe; on other flight intent,
Again I imp my wings, again I soar;
To flame and fall, tormented evermore.

XXII
"Yea; rather of myself should I complain,
Than the desire, to which I bared my breast
Whereby was Reason hunted from her reign,
And all my powers by stronger force opprest.
Thus borne from bad to worse, without a rein,
I cannot the unbridled beast arrest;
Who makes me see I to destruction haste,
That I more bitterness in death may taste.

XXIII
"Yet, ah! why blame myself? Wherein have I
Ever offended, save in loving thee?
What wonder was it then that suddenly
A woman's feeble sense opprest should be?
Why fence and guard myself, lest bearing high,
Wise words, and beauty rare should pleasure me?
Most wretched is the mortal that would shun
To look upon the visage of the sun.

XXIV
"Besides that me my destiny entrained,
Words, worthy credence, moved me much, that drew
A picture of rare happiness, ordained
As meed of this fair unless to ensue.
If these persuasive words were false and feigned,
If famous Merlin's counsel was untrue,
Wrath at the wizard may I well profess;
But cannot therefore love Rogero less.

XXV
"Both Merlin and Melissa have I need
To blame, and shall for ever blame the twain,
That, to exhibit suckers of my seed,
Conjured up spirits from infernal reign,
Who with this empty hope my fancy feed,
Me in perpetual bondage to detain.
Nor other cause for this can I suppose,
Save that they grudge me safe and sweet repose."

XXVI
Sorrow the maid so wholly occupies,
Room has she none for comfort or for rest.
Yet, maugre her affliction, Hope will rise,
And form a lodgement in her harassed breast;
And to the damsel's memory still supplies
Rogero's parting words to her addrest;
So makes her, in all seeming facts' despite,
Await from hour to hour the youthful knight.

XXVII
For a month's space beyond those twenty days
This hope affords fair Bradamant content:
Hence sorrow not on her so heavy weighs
As it would else her harassed soul have shent.
She, one day that along the road she strays,
By which she oft to meet Rogero went,
Hears tidings, that of Hope -- last comfort left --
(Like every other good) her breast bereft.

XXVIII
Bound homeward from the hostile camp, where lay
King Agramant, she met a Gascon knight,
A prisoner to those paynims, from the day,
That fought nigh Paris was the famous fight.
The damsel prest him all he knew to say:
Then to the point she covets led the knight:
Asks of Rogero, on that theme abides,
Listens to that, not aught inquires besides.

XXIX
Of him a full account did he afford,
As well acquainted with the court; he said
How, matched with Mandricardo, strove that lord,
And layed the martial king in combat dead.
And how, sore wounded by the Tartar's sword,
Above a month the stripling kept his bed:
And had the stranger here but closed his news,
Well might his tale the missing knight excuse.

XXX
But then subjoins the Gascon cavalier
How in the Moorish camp a damsel lies,
By name Marphisa hight, of beauteous cheer,
Bold and as skilled in arms of every guise,
Who loves Rogero and to him is dear;
And then the host so rarely sundered spies,
That every one, throughout the paynim train,
Deems that betrothed in wedlock are the twain.

XXXI
And hope, when healed shall be the youthful knight,
The marriage of those lovers will succeed;
(For sure) with pleasure and sincere delight,
Those tidings paynim prince and monarch read:
Since, knowing either's superhuman might,
They augur, from their loins will spring a breed,
In little season, which shall pass in worth
The mightiest race that ever was on earth.

XXXII
What he rehearsed, the Gascon knight believed,
Nor without cause believed the news he bore,
A rumour universally received
And bruited through the squadrons of the Moor;
Who had that notion of their love conceived
From signs of kindness witnessed evermore.
For -- good or bad -- though from one mouth it flows,
Fame to a boundless torrent quickly grows.

XXXIII
That she with him had brought the Paynim aid,
And ne'er was seen without the cavalier,
The first foundation of the rumour layed:
But what confirmed that fame in every ear,
Was, that she, having from the camp conveyed
The thief Brunello (as I sang whilere)
As if alone to see Rogero brought,
Had to the camp returned, uncalled, unsought.

XXXIV
She solely to the camp had ta'en her way,
To visit him that on a sick-bed smarted;
Nor once alone; but often all the day
There passed that maid, and but at eve departed:
Who gave yet greater cause of her to say,
That -- known as one so haughty and hard-hearted,
Who all the world despised -- she now was grown
Benign and humble to the Child alone.

XXXV
When Bradamant the Gascon's story heard,
That lady suffered such tormenting pain,
Such cruel woe her inmost bosom stirred,
From falling she preserved herself with pain.
She turned her courser round, without a word,
Inflamed with jealousy and fierce disdain:
From her all hope the wretched damsel spurns,
And to her chamber breathing wrath returns.

XXXVI
Turned on her face, her body on the bed,
Armed as she is, th4e grieving damsel throws,
And that the sad lament by sorrow bred,
May be unheard of any, bites the clothes;
And so, repeating what the stranger said,
To such a pitcher her smothered anguish grows,
Her plaints no longer able to restrain,
So vents the maid parforce her piteous pain:

XXXVII
"Who ever can be trusted? woe is me!
All false and cruel well may be esteemed,
If thou, Rogero, false and cruel be,
That I so pious and so faithful deemed.
What foul and felon act, what treachery,
Was ever yet by tragic poet dreamed,
But will fall short of thine, if thou wilt set
The sum of my desert, against thy debts?

XXXVIII
"Wherefore, Rogero, since no cavalier
Mates thee in beauteous form and daring feat,
Since thou in matchless valour hast no peer,
And none with thee in gentleness compete,
Why cannot we, 'mid godlike gifts and clear,
Allow thee truth, thy graces to complete?
The praise of spotless truth to thee allow,
To which all other virtues yield and bow?

XXXIX
"Knowest thou not, without it, worthless are
All gentle bearing and all martial might?
As there is nothing, howsoever fair,
That can be seen without the aid of light.
Easily mightest thou a maid ensnare,
Lord as thou was, and idol in her sight.
Her with thy honied words thou might'st have won,
To deem that cold and darksome was the sun.

XL
"Cruel, what sin can trouble thee, if thou
Do'st not her murder who loved thee repent?
If held so lightly be a breach of vow --
Beneath what burden will thy heart be bent?
What treatment will thine adversary know,
If one who loves like me thou so torment?
Justice is none in heaven, I well may say,
If Heaven its vengeance for my wrongs delay.

XLI
"If of all human sins of deepest dye
Be fell ingratitude; if doomed to smart
For this, the fairest angel of the sky
Was banished into foul and darksome part;
If mighty sins for mighty vengeance cry,
Where due atonement cleanses not the heart;
Beware lest thou beneath such vengeance groan,
Ingrate! that wouldest not thy sin atone.

XLII
"Cruel Rogero, I of theft, beside
All other sins, may justly thee arraign.
That thou my heart has ravished form my side,
-- Of this offence I will not, I complain --
But, having made it mine, that thou defied
All right, and took away thy gift again.
Restore it; well thou know'st what pains requite
His sin, who keeps what is another's right.

XLIII
"Thou hast left me, Rogero; thee to leave,
Alas! I neither will nor power possess.
But will and power have I my life to reave,
To scape from this o'erwhelming wretchedness.
To die at strife with thee alone I grieve:
For, had the gods so pleased my lot to bless,
As to require my life, when loved of thee,
Never so welcome had been death to me."

XLIV
Resolved to die, 'twas so the damsel cried;
And starting from her bed, by passion warmed,
To her left breast her naked sword applied;
Then recollected she was wholly armed.
Meanwhile her better Spirit, at her side,
With these persuasive words her fury charmed:
"O lady, born to such illustrious name!
Would'st thou conclude thy life with such foul shame?

XLV
"Were it not better to the field to go,
Where aye thy breath with glory may be spent?
There, should Rogero chance to lay thee low,
He to have slain thee haply may repent;
But, should his faulchion deal the mortal blow,
What death could ever yield thee more content?
Reason it were thou should'st by him be slain,
Who dooms thee living to such passing pain.

XLVI
"Haply of that Marphisa, too, before
Thou die, thou yet may deadly vengeance take,
Who with dishonest love and treacherous lore
Did thy beloved Rogero's fealty shake."
This seemed to please the mournful lady more
Than her first thought; and she forthwith bade make
A mantle for her arms, which should imply
Her desperation and desire to die.

XLVII
The vest is of that colour which is spied
In leaf, when gray and yellow are at strife;
When it is gathered from the branch, or dried
Is the green blood, that was it's parent's life.
Embroidered is the surcoat's outer side
With stems of cypress which disdain the knife;
Which shoot not, when by biting steel laid low.
A habit well according with her woe.

XLVIII
She took the courser that was wont to bear
Astolpho, and with him the lance of gold,
By whose sole touch unhorsed all champions were.
Needless anew I deem it to unfold
Why by Astolpho given, and when and where,
Or how that spear obtained the warrior bold.
The lady took the lance, but nothing guessed
Of the stupendous virtue it possessed.

XLIX
Without attendants, without squire, alone,
The hill descending by the nearest way,
Toward Paris is the mournful damsel gone,
Where camped erewhile the Moorish forces lay;
For yet to her the tidings were unknown,
That good Rinaldo and his bold array
Had raised, with Charles' and Malagigi's aid,
The siege the paynims had to Paris laid.

L
-- Cadurci, and Cahors city left behind --
Bradamant sees the mountain, far and near,
Whence Dordogne's waters to the valley wind;
And Montferrant's and Clermont's towers appear:
When she, a lady fair, of semblance kind,
Beholds, by that same road, towards her steer.
Three knights were nigh, and -- at the pommel hung --
A buckler from the damsel's saddle swung.

LI
Before the lady and behind her ride
More squires and maids, a numerous company.
Fair Bradamant of one that past beside
Demanded who the stranger dame might be?
"That lady to the king of France" (replied
The squire) "is sent upon an embassy
From THE LOST ISLE, which lies mid seas that roll
Their restless waves beyond the northern pole.

LII
"Some THE LOST ISLE, some Iceland call the reign
Whereof a royal lady fills the throne;
Whose charms (before those charms all beauties wane)
Are such as Heaven had dealt to her alone.
The shield you see she sends to Charlemagne,
But with the pact and purpose plainly shown,
He should confer it on the knight, whose worth
Is, in his judgment, fairest upon earth.

LIII
"She, as she deems herself (and it is true
She is the fairest of all womankind),
A cavalier, that should in heart and thew
Surpass all other warriors, fain would find;
Resolved, should her a hundred thousand woo,
None shall unfix the purpose of her mind;
-- But he, held worthiest by the world's accord,
Alone shall be her lover and her lord.

LIV
"In France, in royal Charles's famous court,
The damsel hopes to find the cavalier,
Who in a thousand feats of high report
Has shown that he excels each puissant peer.
All three are monarchy who the dame escort,
And what their kingdoms ye as well shall hear.
One Sweden rules, one Gothland, Norway one;
Surpast in martial praise by few or none.

LV
"These three, whose kingdoms at some distance lie,
Yet the least distant lie from the LOST ISLE,
(Because few mariners its shore descry,
As little known, that island so they style),
Wooed and yet woo her for a wife, and vie
In valour, and, to win the lady's smile,
Illustrious deeds have done, which Fame shall sound,
While Heaven shall circle in its wonted round.

LVI
"Yet she not these will wed, nor cavalier
That does not, as she deems, all else excell.
-- `Lightly I hold your proof of valour here,'
(Those northern monarchs was she wont to tell)
`And if, like sun amid the stars, one peer
Outshines his fellows, him I honour well:
But therefore hold him not, in fierce alarms,
Of living men the bravest knight at arms.

LVII
" `To Charlemagne, whom I esteem and hold
As wisest among reigning kings, by me
Shall be dispatched a costly shield of gold,
On pact and on condition, that it be
Bestowed on him, deemed boldest of the bold,
Amid the martial ranks of chivalry.
Serves the king Charlemagne or other lord,
I will be governed by that king's award.

LVIII
" `If when King Charles the buckler shall receive
And give to one so stout, that best among
All others he that warrior shall believe,
Do they to his or other court belong.
For me the golden buckler shall retrieve
One of you three, in his own virtue strong;
My every love and thought shall he possess;
Him for my spouse and lord will I confess.'

LIX
"Moved by these stirring speeches, hither hie
From that wide-distant sea, those monarchs bold,
Resolved to win the buckler, or to die
Beneath his hand who has that shield of gold."
Bradamant ponders much the squire's reply:
He give his horse the head -- his story told --
And plies him so with restless heel and hand,
He overtakes the damsel's distant band.

LX
After him gallops not, nor hurries ought,
Bradamant, who pursues her road at ease:
Much evermore evolving in her thought
Things that may chance, she finally foresees
That through the buckler by that damsel brought,
Will follow strife and boundless enmities,
Amid king Charles's peerage and the rest,
If with that shield he shall reward the best.

LXI
This grieved the damsel's heart, but far above
That grief, the former fear her heard did goad;
That young Rogero had withdrawn his love
From her, and on the warlike queen bestowed.
So buried in the thoughts wherewith she strove,
Was Bradamant, she heeded nor her road,
Nor took she care where, at the close of light,
To find befitting shelter for the night.

LXII
As when from squall, or other chance, a barge
Drives from the river-side, where late it lay,
Under no mariner or pilot's charge,
The winds and waves at will transport their prey;
So Rabican with Bradamant, at large,
-- She musing on Rogero -- wends his way.
For thence, by many miles, was distant wide
That mind which should her courser's bridle guide.

LXIII
She raised her eyes at last, and saw the sun
Had turned his back on Bocchus' towers and wall;
Then, like a cormorant, his journey done,
Into his nurse's lap beheld him fall,
Beyond Marocco; and for her to run
To tree, for shelter from the rising squall,
Had been a foolish thought; for now 'gan blow
A blustering wind, which threatened rain or snow.

LXIV
To better speed fair Bradamant aroused
Her courser, yet but little way did ride,
When with his flock, which on the champaign browsed,
Leaving the fields, a shepherd she espied.
To him where, well or ill, she might be housed,
-- With many instances the maid applied --
For never house could such ill shelter yield,
But that in rain 'twere worse to lodge afield.

LXV
To her the shepherd said, "I know of none
Whereto I could direct you, near at hand.
At least six leagues are distant all, but one,
Named TRISTRAM'S TOWER, throughout the neighbouring land.
But not to all men is the door undone;
For it behoves that they, with lance in hand,
Achieve their footing first and the defend,
Who to be lodged within its walls pretend.

LXVI
"If there be room within, to stranger knight
The castellain gives kindly welcome there:
But is a lodging claimed by other wight,
To joust with all new comers makes him swear:
If none, he need not move; but arms and fight
He must what stranger thither shall repair;
And he that worst his warlike arms shall ply,
Must wander forth beneath the naked sky.

LXVII
"If two. three, four, or more, seek shelter, they
That first arrive, in peace their quarters take.
Who follows, has a harder game to play;
For war upon those many must he make.
So, if one only in that mansion stay,
He with those two, or more, a lance must break.
Then with as many others as succeed:
Thus he what strength he has shall sorely need.

LXVIII
"As well, if wife or maid seek that repair,
(Is she alone, is she accompanied),
And afterwards another, the most fair
Is housed; that other must without abide."
Bradamant asked the kindly shepherd where
That castle stood; and he with signs replied
As well as words, and pointed with his hand
Where, five or six miles wide, the tower did stand.

LXIX
Though Rabican's good paces merit praise,
To hurry him the damsel had no skill,
By those so passing foul and broken ways,
(By season somewhat rainy rendered ill)
So, as to reach the tower, ere Night o'erlays
The world, whose every nook dark shadows fill.
Arrived, that lady finds the portal barred,
And that she seeks a lodging tells the guard.

LXX
He answers that the place is occupied
By dame and knight already housed, who, met
About the fire, in that chill evening-tide,
Wait till their supper be before them set.
To him that maid: "The board is not supplied,
I deem, for them, unless the meal be eat.
Now, say I wait their coming." (she pursues,)
Who know and will observe your castle's use."

LXXI
The guard his message bore, where at their ease
Reposed the weary cavaliers; his tale
Not overlikely was those kings to please;
For cold and peevish blew the wintry gale,
And now fast fell the rain; yet, forced to seize
Their arms, they slowly don the martial mail.
The rest remain within; while they proceed
Against the damsel, but with little speed.

LXXII
Three cavaliers they were, of might so tried,
Few champions but to them in prowess yield,
The same that she that very day, beside
The courier maid, encountered in the field,
They that in Iceland boasted, in their pride,
To bear away from France the golden shield:
Who (for they had the martial maid outrode)
Arrived before her at that lord's abode.

LXXIII
In feats of arms few warriors were more stout;
But she besure will be among those few,
She, that on no account will wait without,
Fasting and wet, night's weary watches through.
Within from window and from lodge, the rout
Look forth, and will the joust by moonlight view,
Which streams from underneath a covering cloud;
Albeit the furious rain beats fast and loud.

LXXIV
Such transport as the longing gallant cheers,
About to seize the stolen fruits of love,
When, after long delay, the listener hears
The bold within its socket softly move,
Such transport cheered her, of those cavaliers
The prowess and the pith a-fire to prove,
When now the opened portals she descried,
And drawbridge dropt, and issuing knights espied.

LXXV
When she beheld, how, of the drawbridge clear
Those knights, together or scarce sundered, came,
She took her ground; and next in fierce career,
With flowing bridle, drove the furious dame,
Levelling against those kings that virtuous spear,
Her cousin's gift, which never missed its aim;
Whose touch each warrior must unseat parforce;
Yea Mars, should Mars contend in mortal course.

LXXVI
The king of Sweden, foremost of those knights,
In falling too is foremost of the train;
With such surpassing force his helmet smites
That spear, which never yet was couched in vain.
Gothland's good king next meets the maid, and lights
With feet in air, at distance on the plain.
The third (unhorsed by Aymon's beauteous daughter)
Half buried lies in mire and marshy water.

LXXVII
When at three strokes she had unhorsed them all,
Lighting with head on earth and heels in air,
Retiring from the field, she sought the Hall,
In search of lodging; but, ere harboured there,
To issue forth, at whosoever's call,
Is, by the warder's hest, obliged to swear.
That lord who well had weighed her famous feats,
The damsel with surpassing honour greets.

LXXVIII
So does by her the lady, that erewhile
Had thither journeyed, with those monarchs three,
As I related, sent from the LOST ISLE
To France's king, upon an embassy.
Kind as she is and affable of style,
She renders back the stranger's courtesy;
Rises to welcome her with smiling air,
And to the fire conducts that warlike fair.

LXXIX
As Bradamant unarms, and first her shield,
And after puts her polished casque away,
A caul of shining gold, wherein concealed
And clustering close, her prisoned tresses lay,
She with the helmet doffs; and now revealed,
(While the long locks about her shoulders play,)
A lovely damsel by that band is seen,
No fiercer in affray than fair of mien.

LXXX
As when the stage's curtain is uprolled,
Mid thousand lamps, appears the mimic scene,
Adorned with arch and palace, pictures, gold,
And statues; or, as limpid and serene
The sun his visage, glorious to behold,
Unveils, emerging from a cloudy screen;
So when the lady doffs her iron case,
All paradise seems opened in her face.

LXXXI
Already so well-grown and widely spread
Were the bright tresses which the hermit shore,
These, gathered in a knot, behind her head,
Though shorter than their wont, the damsel wore;
And he, that castle's master, plainly read,
(Who often had beheld her face before)
That this was Bradamant; and now he paid
Yet higher honours to the martial maid.

LXXXII
With modest and with mirthful talk this while,
Seated about the fire, they feed the ear;
And in this way the weary time beguile
Till they are heartened with more solid cheer.
If new or ancient were his castle's style,
(Bradamant asks the courteous cavalier)
By whom begun, and how it took its rise?
And thus that castellain to her replies.

LXXXIII
"When Pharamond of France possessed the throne,
His son, prince Clodion, had a mistress rare;
And damsel in that ancient age was none
More graceful, beauteous, or more debonair;
So loved of Pharamond's enamoured son,
That he lost sight no oftener of the fair
Than Io's shepherd of his charge whilere:
For jealous as enamoured was the peer.

LXXXIV
"Her in this mansion, which his sire bestowed,
He kept, and rarely issued from his rest:
With him were lodged ten cavaliers, allowed
Through France to be the boldest and the best.
Hither, while in this castle he abode,
Sir Tristram and a dame their course addrest:
Whom from a furious giant, in her need,
Short time before that gentle knight had freed.

LXXXV
"Sir Tristram and his lady reached the Hall,
When now the sun had Seville left behind.
They for admission on the porter call,
Since they for ten miles round no shelter find,
But Clodion, that loved much, and was withal
Sore jealous, was determined in his mind
No stranger in his keep should ever inn,
So long as that fair lady lodged therein.

LXXXVI
"When, after long entreaties made in vain,
The castellain refused to house the knight,
He said, `What supplication cannot gain,
I hope to make thee do in they despite';
And loudly challenged him, with all his train,
Those ten which he maintained, to bloody fight;
Offering, with levelled lance and lifted glaive,
To prove Sir Clodion a discourteous knave;

LXXXVII
"On pact, if he sate fast, and overthrown
Should be the warder, and his warlike rout,
He in that castle should be lodged alone,
And Clodion with his knights remain without.
Against him goes the king of France's son,
At risque of death, to venge that galling flout;
But falls astound; the rest partake his fate,
And on the losers Tristram bars the gate.

LXXXVIII
"Entering the tower, he finds her harboured there
Whereof I spake, so dear in Clodion's eyes;
Whom SHE had equalled with the loveliest fair,
Nature, so niggard of such courtesies.
With her Sir Tristram talks, while fell despair
Aye racks the houseless prince in horrid wise.
Who prays the conquering knight, with suppliant cry,
Not to his arms the damsel to deny.

LXXXIX
"Though she small worth in Tristram's sight possess,
Nor any, saving Yseult, please his sight,
Nor other dame to love or to caress,
The philtre, drunk erewhile, allows the knight;
Yet, for he would that foul discourteousness
Of Clodion with a fit revenge requite,
He cries, `I deem it were foul wrong and sore,
If so such beauty I should shut the door.

XC
" `And, should Sir Clodion grieve beneath the tree
To lodge alone, and company demand;
Although less beautiful, I have with me
A fair and youthful damsel, here at hand,
Who, I am well content, his mate shall be,
And do in all things, as he shall command.
But she that is most fair to the most strong,
Meseemeth, in all justice should belong.'

XCI
"Shut out all night, the moody Clodion strayed,
Puffing and pacing round his lofty tower,
As if that prince the sentinel had played
On them, that slept at ease in lordly bower:
Him, sorer far than wind and cold dismayed
That lovely lady's loss in Tristram's power:
But he, with pity touched, upon the morrow,
Rendered her back, and so relieved his sorrow.

XCII
"Because, he said, and made it plain appear,
Such as he found her, he returned the fair;
And though for his discourtesy whilere,
Clodion had every scorn deserved to bear,
He was content with having made the peer
Outwatch the weary night in open air.
Accepting not that cavalier's excuse,
Who would have thrown on Love his castle's use.

XCIII
"For Love should make a churlish nature kind,
And not transform to rude a gentle breast.
When Tristram hence was gone, not long behind
Remained the enamoured prince who changed his rest:
But first he to a cavalier consigned
The tower; whereof that baron he possest,
On pact, that he and his in the domain
Henceforth this usage ever should maintain;

XCIV
"That cavalier of greater heart and power
Should in this hall be harboured without fail:
They that less worthy were should void the tower,
And seek another inn, by hill or dale.
In fine, that law was fixt, which to this hour
Endures, as you have seen"; while so his tale
To Bradamant recounts that castle's lord,
The sewer with savoury meats has heaped the board.

XCV
In the great hall that plenteous board was laid,
(None fairer was in all the world beside)
Then came where those beauteous ladies stayed,
And them, with torches lit, did thither guide.
On entering, Bradamant the room surveyed,
And she, that other fair, on every side;
Who as they gaze about the gorgeous hall
Filled full of picture, mark each storied wall.

XCVI
So beauteous are the figures, that instead
Of eating, on the painted walls they stare;
Albeit of meat they have no little need,
Who wearied sore with that day's labour are.
With grief the sewer, with grief the cook takes heed,
How on the table cools the untasted fare.
Nay, there is one amid the crowd, who cries,
"First fill your bellies, and then feast your eyes."

XCVII
The guests were placed, and now about to eat,
When suddenly bethought that castellain,
To house two damsels were a thing unmeet;
One lady must dislodge, and one remain;
The fairest stay, and she least fair retreat.
Where howls the wind, where beats the pattering rain.
Because they separate came, 'tis ordered so:
One lady must remain, one lady go.

XCVIII
The lord some matrons of his household crew
Calls, with two elders, in such judgments wise;
He marks the dames, and bids them of the two
Declare which is most beauteous in their eyes;
And all, upon examination due,
Cry, Aymon's daughter best deserves the prize,
And vouch as she in might those kings outweighed,
No less in beauty she surpassed the maid.

XCIX
The warder cries to that Islandic dame,
Who of her sentence has a shrewd suspicion,
"O lady, let it be no cause of blame,
That we observe our usage and condition;
To seek some other rest must be thine aim,
Since, by our universal band's admission,
Though unadorned that martial maid be seen,
Thou canst not match her charms and lovely mien."

C
As in a moment's time a cloud obscure
Steams from the bottom of some marshy dale,
Which the sun's visage, late so bright and pure,
Mantles all over with its dingy veil;
So that poor damsel, sentenced to endure,
Without, the pelting shower and blustering gale,
Is seen to change her cheer, and is no more
The fair and mirthful maid she was before.

CI
The maid turns pale, and all her colour flies,
Who dreads so stern a sentence to obey:
But generous Bradamant, in prudent guise,
Who could not bear to see her turned away,
Cried to that baron, "Partial and unwise
Your judgment seems, as well all judgments may,
Wherein the losing party has not room
To plead before the judge pronounces doom.

CII
"I, who this cause take on me to defend,
Say (whether fairer or less fair I be)
I came not as a woman, nor intend
That now mine actions shall be womanly.
But, saving I undress, who shall pretend
To say I am or am not such as she?
Neither should aught be said but what we know,
And least of all what works another woe.

CIII
"Many, as well as I, long tresses wear,
Yet are not therefore women; if, as guest,
I have admittance gained to your repair,
Like woman or like man, is manifest:
Then why should I the name of woman bear,
That in my actions stand a man confest?
'Tis ruled that woman should a woman chase;
Nor that a knight a woman should displace.

CIV
"Grant we (what I confess not howsoe'er)
That you the woman in my visage read;
But that in beauty I am not her peer:
Not therefore, deem I, of my valour's meed
Ye would deprive me, though in beauteous cheer
The palm I to that damsel should concede
'Twere hard, before I yield to her in charms,
That I should forfeit what I won in arms.

CV
"And if it be your usage, that the dame
Who yields in beauty, from your tower must wend,
Here to remain I my design to proclaim,
Should my resolve have good or evil game,
Hence I infer, unequal were the game,
If she and I in beauty should contend:
For if such strife 'twixt her and me ensues,
Nought can the damsel gain, and much may lose;

CVI
"And save the gain and loss well balanced be
In every match, the contest is unfair.
So that by right, no less than courtesy,
May she a shelter claim in you repair.
But are there any here that disagree,
And to impugn my equal sentence dare,
Behold my prompt, at such gainsayer's will,
To prove my judgment right, his judgment ill!"

CVII
Bradamant -- grieved that maid of gentle kind
Should from that castle wrongfully be sped,
To bide the raging of the rain and wind,
Where sheltering house was none, nor even shed --
With reasons good, in wary speech combined,
Persuades that lord; but mostly what she said
On ending silences the knight; and he
Allows the justice of that damsel's plea.

CVIII
As when hot summer sun the soil has rived,
And most the thirsty plant of moisture drains,
The weak and wasting flower, well nigh deprived
Of that quick sap which circled in its veins,
Sucks in the welcome rain, and is revived;
So, when bold Bradamant so well maintains
The courier maid's defence, her beauteous cheer
And mirth revive, and brighten as whilere.

CIX
At length the supper, which had long been dight,
Nor yet was touched, enjoys each hungry guest;
Nor any further news of errant knight
Them, seated at the festive board, molest;
All, saving Bradamant, enjoy, whose sprite,
As wont, is still afflicted and opprest.
For that suspicious fear, that doubt unjust,
Which racked her bosom, marred the damsel's gust.

CX
The supper done -- brought sooner to a close
Haply from their desire to feast their eyes --
First of the set, Duke Aymon's daughter rose,
And next the courier maid is seen to rise.
With that the warder signs to one, that goes
And many torches fires in nimble wise;
Whose light on storied wall and ceiling fell.
What followed shall another canto tell.

CANTO 33

ARGUMENT
Bradamant sees in picture future fight
There, where she gained admission by the spear.
From combat cease, upon Baiardo's flight,
Gradasso and Montalban's cavalier.
While soaring through the world, the English knight
Arrives in Nubia's distant realm, and here
Driving the Harpies from the royal board,
Hunts to the mouth of hell that impious horde.

I
Timagoras, Parrhasius, Polygnote,
Protogenes, renowned Apollodore,
Timanthes, and Apelles, first of note,
Zeuxis and others, famed heretofore,
Whose memory down the stream of Time will float,
While we their wreck and labours lost deplore,
Whose fame will flourish still in Fate's despite,
(Grammercy authors!) while men read and write.

II
And those, yet living or of earlier day,
Mantegna, Leonardo, Gian Belline,
The Dossi, and, skilled to carve or to pourtray,
Michael, less man than angel and divine,
Bastiano, Raphael, Titian, who (as they
Urbino and Venice) makes Cadoro shine;
With more, whose works resemble what he hear
And credit of those spirits, famed whilere;

III
The painters we have seen, and others, who
Thousands of years ago in honour stood,
Things which had been with matchless pencil drew,
Some working upon wall, and some on wood.
But never, amid masters old or new,
Have ye of pictures heard or pictures viewed
Of things to come; yet such have been pourtrayed
Before the deeds were done which they displayed.

IV
Yet let not artist whether new or old,
Boast of his skill such wondrous works to make;
But leave this feat to spell, wherewith controlled
The spirits of the infernal bottom quake.
The hall, whereof in other strain I told,
With volume sacred to Avernus' lake,
Or Norsine grot, throught subject Demons' might,
Was made by Merlin in a single night.

V
That art, whereby those ancient erst pourtrayed
Such wonders, is extinguished in our day.
But to the troop, by whom will be surveyed
The painted chamber, I return, and say;
A squire attendant on a signal made,
Bore thither lighted torches, by whose ray
Were scattered from that hall the shades of night,
Nor this in open day had shown more bright.

VI
When thus the castle's lord addressed that crew:
"Know, of adventures in this chamber wrought,
Up to our days, have yet been witnessed few;
A warfare storied, but its fields unfought.
Who limned the battles, these as well foreknew.
Here of defeats to come and victories taught,
Whate'er in Italy our host befalls
You may discern as painted on these walls.

VII
"The wars, wherein French armies should appear,
Beyond the Alps, of foul event or fair,
Even from his days until the thousandth year,
By the prophetic Merlin painted were.
Hither Great Britain's monarch sent the seer,
To him, that of King Marcomir was heir:
Why hither sent, and why this hall was made,
At the same time to you shall be displayed.

VIII
"King Pharamond, the first of those that passed
The Rhine, amid his Franks' victorious train,
When Gaul was won, bethought him how to cast
On restive Italy the curbing rein;
And this; that evermore he wasting fast
Beheld the Roman empire's feeble reign;
And (for both reigned at once) would make accord,
To compass his design, with Britain's lord.

IX
"The royal Arthur, by whom nought was done
Without the ripe advice of Merlin sage,
(Merlin, I say, the Devils mighty son,
Well versed in what should chance in future age,)
Knowing through him, to Pharamond made known,
He would in many woes his host engage,
Entering that region, which, with rugged mound,
Apennine parts, and Alp and sea surround.

X
"To him sage Merlin shows, that well nigh all
Those other monarchs that in France will reign,
By murderous steel will see their people fall,
Consumed by famine, or by fever slain;
And that short joy, long sorrow, profit small,
And boundless ill shall recompense their pain;
Since vainly will the lily seek to shoot
In the Italian fields its withered root.

XI
"King Pharamond so trusted to the seer
That he resolved to turn his arms elsewhere;
And Merlin, who beheld with sight as clear
The things to be, as things that whilom were,
'Tis said, was brought by magic art to rear
The painted chamber at the monarch's prayer;
Wherein whatever deeds the Franks shall do,
As if already done, are plain to view.

XII
"That king who should succeed, might comprehend,
As he renown and victory would obtain,
Whene'er his friendly squadrons should defend
From all barbarians else the Italian reign;
So, if to damage her he should descend,
Thinking to bind her with the griding chain,
-- Might comprehend, I say, and read his doom --
How he beyond these hills should find a tomb."

XIII
So said, he leads the listening ladies where
Those pictured histories begin; to show
How Sigisbert his arms will southward bear
For what imperial Maurice shall bestow.
"Behold him from the Mount of Jove repair
Thither where Ambra and Ticino flow!
Eutar behold, who not alone repels,
But puts the foe to flight, and routs and quells.

XIV
"Where they with Clovis tread the mountain way,
More than a hundred thousand warriors trace;
See Benevento's duke the monarch stay,
Whose thinner files his hostile army face.
Lo! these who feign retreat an ambush lay.
Lo! where through danger, havoc, and disgrace,
The Franks, who to the Lombard wine-fat hie,
Drugged by the bait, like poisoned mullets die.

XV
"Where Childibert the boundary hills has crost,
Heading what bands of France and captains, see;
Yet shall no more than baffled Clovis boast
The conquest or the spoil of Lombardy.
Heaven's sword descends so heavy on his host.
Choked with their bodies every road shall be;
So pined with watery flux and withering sun,
That, out of ten, unharmed returns not one."

XVI
He shows King Pepin, shows King Charlemagne;
How into Italy their march they bend;
And one and the other fair success obtain,
Because her land they came not to offend.
But Stephen one, the other Adriane,
And, after, injured Leo, would defend.
This quells Astolpho, and that takes his heir,
And re-establishes the papal chair.

XVII
A youthful Pepin of the royal line
He after shows; who seemed to spread his host,
Even from THE KILNS to the Isle of Palestine;
And with a bridge, achieved at mighty cost,
At Malamocco, to bestride the brine,
And on Rialto's shore his battle post.
Then fly and leave his drowning bands behind,
His bridge destroyed by wasting waves and wind.

XVIII
"Burgundian Lewis ye behold descend
Thither with his invading squadrons, where,
Vanquishing and taken, nevermore to offend
With hostile arms, he is compelled to swear.
Behold! he slights his solemn oath -- to wend,
Anew, with reckless steps, into the snare.
Lo! there he leaves his eyes; and his array,
Blind as the moldwarp, hence their lord convey.

XIX
"You see him named from Arles, victorious Hugh,
From Italy the Berengari chase!
Whom, quelled and broken twice and thrice, anew
Now the Bavarians, now the Huns, replace.
O'ermatched, he then for peace is fain to sue;
Nor long survives, nor he who fills his place;
To Berengarius yielding his domains,
Who, repossest of all his kingdom, reigns.

XX
"You see, her goodly pastor to sustain,
Another Charles set fire to Italy;
Who has two kings in two fierce battles slain,
Manfred and Conradine, and after see
His bands, who seem to vex the new-won reign
With many wrongs, and who dispersedly
-- Some here, some there -- in different cities dwell.
Slain on the rolling of the vesper-bell."

XXI
He shows them next (but after interval,
'Twould seem, of many and many an age, not years)
How through the Alps, a captain out of Gaul,
To war upon the great Viscontis, steers;
And seems to straiten Alexandria's wall,
Girt with his forces, foot and cavaliers:
A garrison within, an ambuscade
Without the works, the warlike duke has laid;

XXII
And the French host, decoyed in cunning wise
Thither where the surrounding toils are spread,
Conducted on that evil enterprise
By Armagnac, the Gallic squadron's head,
Slaughtered throughout the spacious champaign lies,
Or is to Alexandria captive led:
While, swoln not more with water than with blood,
Tanarus purples wide Po's ample flood.

XXIII
Successively that castellain displayed
One hight of Marca, of the Anjouites three.
How "Marsi, Daunians, Salentines," (he said)
"And Bruci, these shall oft molest, you see:
Yet not by Frank or Latian's friendly aid
Shall one delivered from destruction be.
Lo! from the realm, as oft as they attack,
Alphonso and Gonsalvo beat them back.

XXIV
"You see the eighth Charles, amid his martial train,
The flower of France, through Alpine pass has pressed.
Who Liris fords, and takes all Naples' reign,
Yet draws not sword nor lays a lance in rest:
All, save that rock which -- Typheus' endless pain --
Lies on the giant's belly, arms, and breast:
By Inigo del Guasto here withstood,
Derived from Avalo's illustrious blood."

XXV
The warder of the castle, who makes clear
To beauteous Bradamant that history,
Says, having shown her Ischia's island, "Ere
I lead you further other things to see,
I'll tell what my great-grandfather whilere
-- I then a child -- was wont to tell to me.
Which in like manner (that great-grandsire said),
As well to him his father whilome read;

XXVI
"And his from sire or grandsire heard recite;
So son from sire; even to that baron, who
Heard it related by the very wight,
That these fair pictures without pencil drew,
Which you see painted azure, red, and white.
He when to Pharamond (as now to you)
Was shown the castle on the rocky mount,
Heard him relate the things I now recount.

XXVII
"Heard him relate, how in that fortilage
From that good knight should spring, who, 'twould appear,
Guards it so well, he scorns the fires that rage,
Even to the Pharo, flaming far and near,
Then, or within short space, and in that age,
(And named the week and day, as well as year,)
A noble warrior, unexcelled in worth
By other, that has yet appeared on earth.

XXVIII
"Nereus less fair, Achilles was less strong,
Less was Ulysses famed for daring feat;
Nestor, that knew so much and lived so long,
Less prudent; nimble Ladas was less fleet;
Less liberal and less prompt to pardon wrong,
Caesar, whose praises ancient tales repeat.
So that, compared with him, in Ischia born,
Each might appear of vaunted virtues shorn;

XXIX
"And if illustrious Crete rejoiced of old
In giving birth to Coelus' godlike heir;
If Thebes in Hercules and Bacchus bold,
If Delos boasted of her heavenly pair,
Nought should as well this happy isle withhold
From lifting high her glorious head in air,
When that great Marquis shall in her be born,
Whom with its every grace shall Heaven adorn.

XXX
"Sage Merlin said -- and oft renewed that say --
He was reserved to flourish in an age,
When most opprest the Roman empire lay,
That he might free that holy heritage:
But as some deeds of his I must display
Hereafter, these I will not now presage.
So spake that wizard, and renewed the story,
Which told of Charlemagne's predestined glory.

XXXI
"Lewis, (so learned Merlin said,) is woe
To have brought to Italy King Charlemagne,
Whom he called in to harass, not o'erthrow
That ancient rival of his goodly reign;
At his return declares himself his foe,
And, leagued with Venice, would the king detain.
Behold that valiant monarch couch his spear,
And in his foes' despite a passage clear.

XXXII
"But his new kingdom leaving to his band,
Far other destiny awaits that throng:
For, with the Mantuan's friendly succour manned,
Gonsalvo to the war returns so strong,
He leaves not in few months, by sea or land,
One living head, his slaughtered troops among.
But then, because of one by treason spent,
In him appears the joy of triumph shent."

XXXIII
So saying, to his guests the cavalier
Alphonso, of Pescara hight, displayed:
"Who in a thousand feats will shine more clear
Than the resplendent carbuncle," he said.
"Behold, deceived by faithless treaty, here,
Mid snares by the malignant Aethiop laid,
Transfixt with deadly dart the warrior lies,
In whom the age's worthiest champion dies."

XXXIV
Under Italian escort next they see
Where the twelfth Lewis o'er the hills is gone;
Has by its roots uptorn the mulberry,
And in Viscontis' land the lilies sown:
"Treading in Charles's steps, by him shall be
Bridges athwart the Garigliano thrown.
Yet after shall he mourn his army's slaughter,
Dispersed and drowning in that fatal water."

XXXV
(The lord pursues) "with no less overthrow,
Broken in Puglia, see the Gallic train.
In him who twice entraps the routed foe,
Gonslavo you behold, the pride of Spain.
Fortune to Lewis a fair face shall show,
As late a troubled mien, upon that plain,
Which even to where vext Adria pours her tides,
Po, between Alp and Apennine, divides."

XXXVI
The host reproved himself, while so he said,
And pieced his tale, as having left untold
Things first in order; next to them displayed
A royal castle by its warder sold.
A prisoner by the faithless Switzer made,
He shows the lord who hired him with his gold:
Which double treason, without couching lance,
Has given the victory to the king of France.

XXXVII
That warder then shows Caesar Borgia, grown
Puissant in Italy, through this king's grace;
For all Rome's peerage, and all lords that own
Her sway, he into exile seems to chase:
Then shows the king, that will the saw take down,
And papal acorns in Bologna place:
Then Genoa's burghers, by this monarch broke,
And rebel city stooping to his yoke.

XXXVIII
"You see," (pursued that warder,) "how with dead
Covered is Ghiaradada's green champaign.
It seems each city opes her gates through dread;
And Venice scarce her freedom can maintain.
You see he suffers not the Church's head,
Passing the narrow confines of Romagne,
Modena from Ferrara's duke to reave;
Who would not to that prince a remnant leave.

XXXIX
"Nay he Bologna rescues from his sway;
Whither the Bentivogli them betake.
You next see Lewis siege to Brescia lay,
And the close-straitened city storm and take;
Felsina almost at the same time stay
With succour, and the papal army break;
And next, 'twoud seem, that either hostile band
Lies tented upon Chassis' level strand.

XL
"On this side France, upon the other Spain,
Extend their files, and battle rages high;
Fast fall the men at arms in either train,
And the green earth is tinged with crimson dye.
Flooded with human gore seems every drain;
Mars doubts to whom to give the victory;
When through Alphonso's worth the Spaniards yield,
And the victorious Franks maintain the field;

XLI
"And, for Ravenna sacked and ravaged lies,
The Roman pastor bites his lips through woe;
Called by him, from the hills, in tempest's guise,
Swoop the fierce Germans on the fields below.
It seems each Frenchman unresisting flies,
Chased by their bands beyond the mountain snow,
And that they set the mulberry's thriving shoot
There, whence they plucked the golden lily's root.

XLII
"Behold the Frank returns, and here behold
Is broken, by the faithless Swiss betrayed,
He, that his royal father seized and sold,
Whose succour dearly by the youth is paid.
Those over whom false Fortune's wheel had rolled,
Erewhile, beneath another king arraid,
You here behold, preparing to efface
With vengeful deed Novara's late disgrace;

XLIII
"And see with better auspices return
The valiant Francis, foremost of his train,
Who so shall break the haughty Switzer's horn,
That little short of spent their bands remain;
And them shall nevermore the style adorn,
Usurped by that foul troop of churlish vein,
Of scourge of princes, and the faith's defence,
To which those rustics rude shall make pretence.

XLIV
"Lo! he takes Milan, in the league's despite:
Lo! with the youthful Sforza makes accord:
Lo! Bourbon the fair city keeps, in right
Of Francis, from the furious German horde:
Lo! while in other high emprize and fight
Elsewhere is occupied his royal lord,
Nor knows the pride and license of his host,
Through these the city shall anew be lost.

XLV
"Lo! other French who his grandsire's vein
Inherits, not his generous name alone!
Who by the Church's favour will regain
-- The Gaul expelled -- a land which was his own.
France too returns, but keeps a tighter rein,
Nor over Italy, as wont, has flown:
For Mantua's noble duke the foe shall stay,
And, at Ticino's passage, bar his way.

XLVI
"Though on his cheek youth's blossoms scarce appear,
Worthy immortal glory, Frederick shines;
And well that praise deserves, since by his spear,
But more by care and skill, Pavia's lines
Against the French defends that cavalier,
And frustrates the sea-lion's bold designs.
You see two marquises, Italia's boast,
And both, alike the terror of our host.

XLVII
"Both of one blood and of one nest they are;
The foremost is the bold Alphonso's seed,
Whom, led by that false black into the snare,
You late beheld in purple torrent bleed.
You see defeated by his counsel ware,
How oft the Franks from Italy recede.
The next, of visage so benign and bright,
Is lord of Guasto and Alphonso hight;

XLVIII
"This is that goodly knight, whose praise you heard
When rugged Ischia's island I displayed,
Of whom sage Merlin, with prophetic word,
To Pharamond such mighty matters said;
Whose birth should to that season be deferred,
When more than ever such a champion's aid,
Against the barbarous enemy's attack,
Vext Italy, and Church, and Empire lack.

XLIX
"He in his cousin of Pescara's rear,
-- Prosper Colonna, chief of that emprize --
Makes the rude Switzer pay Bicocca dear,
Paid by the Frenchman in yet dearer wise.
Behold where France prepares for fresh career,
And to repair her many losses tries
Behold one host on Lombardy descend!
Behold that other against Naples wend!

L
"Bust she, that moves us like the dust which flies
Before the restless wind, which whirls it round,
Lifts if aloft awhile, and from the skies
Blows back anew the rising cloud to ground,
To a hundred thousand swells, in Francis' eyes,
The soldiers who Pavia's walls surround.
The monarch sees but that which he commands,
Nor marks how wax or waste his leaguering bands.

LI
" `Tis thus that, through the greedy servant's sin,
And easy sovereign's goodness, on his side,
The files beneath his banners muster thin,
When in his midnight camp, `to arms,' is cried,
For by the wary Spaniards charged within
His ramparts is he; foes that with the guide
Of Avalo's fair lineage, would assay
To make to heaven or hell their desperate way.

LII
"You see the best of the nobility
Of all fair France extinguished on the field;
How many swords, how many lances, see
The Spaniards round the valiant monarch wield.
Behold! his horse falls under him; yet he
Will neither own himself subdued, or yield;
Though to assault him from all sides is run
By wrathful bands, and succour there is none.

LIII
"The monarch well defends him from the foe,
All over bathed with blood of hostile vein.
But valour stoops at last to numbers; lo!
The king is taken, is conveyed to Spain;
And all upon Pescara's lord bestow
And him of that inseparable twain --
Of Guasto hight -- the praise and prime renown
For that great king captived and host o'erthrown.

LIV
"This host o'erthrown upon Pavia's plains,
That, bound for Naples, halts upon its way:
As an ill-nourished lamp or taper wanes,
For want of wax or oil, with flickering ray.
Lo! the king leaves his sons in Spanish chains,
And home returns, his own domain to sway.
Lo! while in Italy he leads his band,
Another wars upon his native land.

LV
"In every part you see how Rome is woe,
Mid ruthless rapine, murder, fire, and rape.
See all to wasting rack and ruin go,
And nothing human or divine escape.
The league's men hear the shrieks, behold the glow
Of hostile fires, and lo! they backward shape
Their course, where they should hurry on their way,
And leave the pontiff to his foes a prey.

LVI
"Lautrec the monarch sends with other bands;
Yet not anew to war on Lombardy;
But to deliver from rapacious hands
The Church's head and limbs, already free,
So slowly he performs the king's commands.
Next, overrun by him the kingdom see,
And his strong arms against the city turned,
Wherein the Syren's body lies inurned.

LVII
"Lo! the imperial squadrons thither steer,
Aid to the leaguered city to convey;
And lo! burnt, sunk, destroyed, they disappear,
Encountered by the Doria in mid-way.
Behold! how Fortune light does shift and veer,
So friendly to the Frenchman till this day!
Who slays their host with fever, not with lance;
Nor of a thousand one returns to France.

LVIII
These histories and more the pictures shew,
(For to tell all would ask too long a strain)
In beauteous colours and of different hue;
Since such that hall, it these could well contain.
The painting twice and thrice those guests review,
Nor how to leave them knows the lingering train,
'Twould seem; perusing oft what they behold
Inscribed below the beauteous work in gold.

LIX
When with these pictures they their sight had fed,
And talked long while -- these ladies and the rest --
They to their chambers by that Lord were led,
Wont much to worship every worthy guest.
Already all were sleeping, when her bed
At last Duke Aymon's beauteous daughter prest.
She here, she there, her restless body throws,
Now right, now left, but vainly seeks repose:

LX
Yet slumber toward dawn, and in a dream
The form of her Rogero seems to view.
The vision cries: "Why vex yourself, and deem
Things real which are hollow and untrue?
Backwards shall sooner flow the mountainstream
Than I to other turn my thought from you.
When you I love not, then unloved by me
This heart, these apples of mine eyes, will be.

LXI
"Hither have I repaired (it seemed he said)
To be baptized and do as I professed.
If I have lingered, I have been delaid,
By other wound than that of Love opprest."
With that he vanished from the martial maid,
And with the vision broken was her rest.
New floods of tears the awakened damsel shed,
And to herself in this sad fashion said:

LXII
"What pleased was but a dream; alas! a sheer
Reality is this my waking bane;
My joy a dream and prompt to disappear,
No dream my cruel and tormenting pain.
Ah! wherefore what I seemed to see and hear,
Cannot I, waking, see and hear again?
What ails ye, wretched eyes, that closed ye show
Unreal good, and open but on woe?

LXIII
"Sweet sleep with promised peace my soul did buoy,
But I to bitter warfare wake anew;
Sweet sleep but brought with it fallacious joy,
But -- sure and bitter -- waking ills ensue.
If falsehood so delight and truth annoy,
Never more may I see or hear what's true!
If sleeping brings me weal, and watching woe,
The pains of waking may I never know!

LXIV
"Blest animals that sleep through half the year,
Nor ope your heavy eyelids, night nor day!
For if such tedious sleep like death appear,
Such watching is like life, I will not say,
Since -- such my lot, beyond all wont, severe --
I death in watching, life in sleep assay.
But oh! if death such sleep resemble, Death,
Even now I pray three stop my fleeting breath!"

LXV
The clouds were gone, the horizon overspread
With glowing crimson by the new-born sun,
And in these signs, unlike the past, was read
A better promise of the day begun:
When Bradamant upstarted from her bed,
And armed her for the journey to be done,
Her thanks first rendered to the courteous lord,
For his kind of cheer and hospitable board.

LXVI
And found, the lady messenger, with maid
And squire, had issued from the castled hold,
And was a-field, where her arrival stayed
Those three good warriors, those the damsel bold
The eve before had on the champaign laid,
Cast from their horses by her lance of gold;
And who had suffered, to their mighty pain,
All night, the freezing wind and pattering rain.

LXVII
Add to such ill, that, hungering sore for food,
They and their horses, through the livelong night,
Trampling the mire, with chattering teeth, had stood:
But (what well-nigh engendered more despite
-- Say not well nigh -- more moved the warrior's mood)
Was that they knew the damsel would recite
How they had been unhorsed by hostile lance
In the first course which they had run in France;

LXVIII
And -- each resolved to die or else his name
Forthwith in new encounter to retrieve --
That Ulany, the message-bearing dame,
(Whose style no longer I unmentioned leave),
A fairer notion of their knightly fame
Than heretofore, might haply now conceive,
Bold Bradamant anew to fight defied,
When of the drawbridge clear they her descried;

LXIX
Not thinking, howsoe'er, she was a maid,
Who in no look or act the maid confest;
Duke Aymon's daughter, loth to be delaid,
Refuses, as a traveller that is pressed.
But they so often and so sorely prayed,
That she could ill refuse the kings' request.
Her lance she levels, at three strokes extends
All three on earth, and thus the warfare ends:

LXX
For Bradamant no more her courser wheeled,
But turned her back upon the foes o'erthrown.
They, that intent to gain the golden shield,
Had sought a land so distant from their own,
Rising in sullen silence from the field
(For speech with all their hardihood was gone)
Appeared as stupefied by their surprise,
Nor to Ulania dared to lift their eyes.

LXXI
For they, as thither they their course addrest,
Had vaunted to the maid in boasting vein,
No paladin or knight with lance in rest,
Against the worst his saddle could maintain.
To make them vail yet more their haughty crest,
And look upon the world with less disdain,
She tells them, by no paladin or peer
Were they unhorsed, but by a woman's spear.

LXXII
"Now what of Roland's and Rinaldo's might,
Not without reason held in such renown,
Ought you to think (she said) when thus in fight
Ye by a female hand are overthrown?
Say, if the buckler one of these requite,
-- Better than by a woman ye have done,
Will ye by those redoubted warriors do?
So think not I, nor haply think so you.

LXXIII
"This may suffice you all; and need in none
A clearer proof of prowess to display;
And who desires, if rashly any one
Desires, again his valour to assay,
Would add but scathe to shame, now made his own;
Now; and the same to-day as yesterday.
Unless perchance he thinks it praise and gain,
By such illustrious warriors to be slain."

LXXIV
When they by Ulany were certified
A woman's hand had caused their overthrow,
Who with a deeper black than pitch had dyed
Their honour, heretofore so fair of show;
And more than ten her story testified,
Where one sufficed -- with such o'erwhelming woe
Were they possest, they with such fury burned,
They well nigh on themselves their weapons turned.

LXXV
What arms they had upon them, they unbound,
And cast them, strung by rage and fury sore,
Into the moat which girt that castle round,
Nor even kept the faulchions which they wore;
And, since a woman them had cast to ground,
O'erwhelmed with rage and shame, the warriors swore,
Themselves of such a crying shame to clear,
They, without bearing arms, would pass a year;

LXXVI
And that they evermore afoot would fare
Up hill or down, by mountain or by plain,
Nor, when the year was ended, would they wear
The knightly mail or climb the steed again;
Save that from other they by force should bear,
In battle, other steeds and other chain.
So, without arms, to punish their misdeeds,
These wend a-foot, those others on their steeds.

LXXVII
Lodged in a township at the fall of night,
Duke Aymon's daughter, journeying Paris-ward,
Hears how King Agramant was foiled in fight.
Good harbourage withal of bed and board,
She in her hostel found; but small delight
This and all comforts else to her afford.
For the sad damsel meat and sleep foregoes,
Nor finds a resting place; far less repose.

LXXVIII
But so I will not on her story dwell,
As not to seek anew the valiant twain;
Who, by consent, beside a lonely well,
Had tied their goodly coursers by the rein.
I of their war to you somedeal will tell,
A war not waged for empire or domain,
But that the best should buckle to his side
Good Durindana, and Baiardo ride.

LXXIX
No signal they, no trumpet they attend,
To blow them to the lists, no master who
Should teach them when to foin and when to fend,
Or wake their sleeping wrath; their swords they drew:
Then, one against the other, boldly wend,
With lifted blades, the quick and dextrous two.
Already 'gan the champions' fury heat,
And fast and hard their swords were heard to beat.

LXXX
None e'er by proof two other faulchions chose
For sound and solid, able to endure
Three strokes alone of such conflicting foes,
Passing all means and measure; but so pure,
So perfect was their temper, from all blows
By such repeated trial so secure,
They in a thousand strokes might clash on high,
-- Nay more, nor yet the solid metal fly.

LXXXI
With mickle industry, with mighty pain
And art, Rinaldo, shifting here and there,
Avoids the deadly dint of Durindane,
Well knowing how 'tis wont to cleave and tear.
Gradasso struck with greater might and main,
But well nigh all his strokes were spent in air;
Of, if he sometimes smote, he smote on part,
Where Durindana wrought less harm than smart.

LXXXII
Rinaldo with more skill his blade inclined,
And stunned the arm of Sericana's lord.
Him oft he reached where casque and coat confined,
And often raked his haunches with the sword:
But adamantine was his corslet's rind,
Nor link the restless faulchion broke or bored.
If so impassive was the paynim's scale,
Know, charmed by magic was the stubborn mail.

LXXXIII
Without reposing they long time had been,
Upon their deadly battle so intent,
That, save on one another's troubled mien,
Their angry eyes the warriors had not bent.
When such despiteous war and deadly spleen,
Diverted by another strife, were spent,
Hearing a mighty noise, both champions turn,
And good Baiardo, sore bested, discern.

LXXXIV
They good Baiardo by a monster view,
-- A bird, and bigger than that courser -- prest.
Above three yards in length appeared to view
The monster's beak; a bat in all the rest.
Equipt with feathers, black as ink in hue,
And piercing talons was the winged pest;
An eye of fire it had, a cruel look,
And, like ship-sails, two spreading pinions shook.

LXXXV
Perhaps it was a bird; but when or where
Another bird resembling this was seen
I know not, I, nor have I any where,
Except in Turpin, heard that such has been.
Hence that it was a fiend, to upper air
Evoked from depths of nether hell I ween;
Which Malagigi raised by magic sleight,
That so he might disturb the champions' fight.

LXXXVI
So deemed Rinaldo too: and contest sore
'Twixt him and Malagigi hence begun;
But he would not confess the charge; nay swore,
Even by the light which lights the glorious sun,
That he might clear him of the blame he bore,
He had not that which was imputed done.
Whether a fiend or fowl, the pest descends,
And good Baiardo with his talons rends.

LXXXVII
Quickly the steed, possessed of mickle might,
Breaks loose, and, in his fury and despair,
Against the monster strives with kick and bite;
But swiftly he retires and soars in air:
He thence returning, prompt to wheel and smite,
Circles and beats the courser, here and there.
Wholly unskilled in fence, and sore bested,
Baiardo swiftly from the monster fled.

LXXXVIII
Baiardo to the neighbouring forest flies,
Seeking the closest shade and thickest spray;
Above the feathered monster flaps, with eyes
Intent to mark where widest is the way.
But that good horse the greenwood threads, and lies
At last within a grot, concealed from day.
When the winged beast has lost Baiardo's traces.
He soars aloft, and other quarry chases.

LXXXIX
Rinaldo and Gradasso, who descried
Baiardo's flight, the conqueror's destined meed,
The battle to suspend, on either side,
Till they regained the goodly horse, agreed,
Saved from that fowl which chased him, far and wide;
Conditioning whichever found the steed,
With him anew should to that fountain wend,
Beside whose brim their battle they should end.

XC
Quitting the fount, they follow, where they view
New prints upon the forest greensward made:
By much Baiardo distances the two,
Whose tardy feet their wishes ill obeyed.
Himself the king on his Alfana threw,
That near at hand was tethered in the glade,
Leaving his foe behind in evil plight;
-- Never more malcontent and vext in sprite.

XCI
Rinaldo ceased in little time to spy
Baiardo's traces, who strange course had run;
And made for thorny thicket, wet or dry,
Tree, rock, or river, with design to shun
Those cruel claws, which, pouncing from the sky,
To him such outrage and such scathe had done.
Rinaldo, after labour vain and sore
To await him at the fount returned once more;

XCII
In case, as erst concerted by the twain,
The king should thither with the steed resort;
But having sought him there with little gain,
Fared to his camp afoot, with piteous port.
Return we now to him of Sericane,
He that had sped withal in other sort,
Who, not by judgement, guided to his prey,
But his rare fortune, heard Baiardo neigh;

XCIII
And found him shrowded in his caverned lair,
So sore moreover by his fright opprest,
He feared to issue into open air.
Thus of that horse himself the king possest.
Well he remembered their conditions were
To bring him to the fount; but little pressed
Now was that knight to keep the promise made,
And thus within himself in secret said:

XCIV
"Win him who will, in war and strife, I more
Desire in peace to make the steed my own:
From the world's further side, did I of yore
Wend hitherward, and for this end alone.
Having the courser, he mistakes me sore,
That thinks the prize by me will be foregone.
Him would Rinaldo conquer, let him fare
To Ind, as I to France have made repair.

XCV
"For him no less secure is Sericane,
Than twice for me has been his France," he said,
And pricked for Arles, along the road most plain,
And in its haven found the fleet arrayed.
Freighted with him, the steed and Durindane,
A well-rigged galley from that harbour weighed.
Of these hereafter! -- I, at other call,
Now quit Rinaldo, king, and France, and all.

XCVI
Astolpho in his flight will I pursue,
That made his hippogryph like palfrey flee,
With reins and sell, so quick the welkin through;
That hawk and eagle soar a course less free.
O'er the wide land of Gaul the warrior flew
From Pyrenees to Rhine, from sea to sea.
He westward to the mountains turned aside,
Which France's fertile land from Spain divide.

XCVII
To Arragon he past out of Navarre,
-- They who beheld, sore wondering at the sight --
Then, leaves he Tarragon behind him far,
Upon his left, Biscay upon his right:
Traversed Castile, Gallicia, Lisbon, are
Seville and Cordova, with rapid flight;
Nor city on sea-shore, nor inland plain,
Is unexplored throughout the realm of Spain.

XCVIII
Beneath him Cadiz and the strait he spied,
Where whilom good Alcides closed the way;
From the Atlantic to the further side
Of Egypt, bent o'er Africa, to stray;
The famous Balearic isles descried,
And Ivica, that in his passage lay;
Toward Arzilla then he turned the rein,
Above the sea that severs it from Spain.

XCIX
Morocco, Fez, and Oran, looking down,
Hippona, Argier, he, and Bugia told,
Which from all cities bear away the crown,
No palm or parsley wreath, but crown of gold;
Noble Biserta next and Tunis-town,
Capys, Alzerba's isle, the warrior bold,
Tripoli, Berniche, Ptolomitta viewed,
And into Asia's land the Nile pursued.

C
'Twixt Atlas' shaggy ridges and the shore,
He viewed each regions in his spacious round;
He turned his back upon Carena hoar,
And skimmed above the Cyrenaean ground;
Passing the sandy desert of the Moor,
In Albajada, reached the Nubian's bound;
Left Battus' tomb behind him on the plain,
And Ammon's, now dilapidated, fane.

CI
To other Tremizen he posts, where bred
As well the people are in Mahound's style;
For other Aethiops then his pinions spread,
Which face the first, and lie beyond the Nile.
Between Coallee and Dobada sped,
Bound for the Nubian city's royal pile;
Threading the two, where, ranged on either land,
Moslems and Christians watch, with arms in hand.

CII
In Aethiopia's realm Senapus reigns,
Whose sceptre is the cross; of cities brave,
Of men, of gold possest, and broad domains,
Which the Red Sea's extremest waters lave.
A faith well nigh like ours that king maintains,
Which man from his primaeval doom may save.
Here, save I err in what their rites require,
The swarthy people are baptized with fire.

CIII
Astolpho lighted in the spacious court,
Intending on the Nubian king to wait.
Less strong than sumptuous is the wealthy fort,
Wherein the royal Aethiop keeps his state,
The chains that serve the drawbridge to support,
The bolts, the bars, the hinges of the gate,
And finally whatever we behold
Herewrought in iron, there is wrought in gold.

CIV
High prized withal, albeit it so abound,
Is that best metal; lodges built in air
Which on all sides the wealthy pile surround,
Clear colonnades with crystal shafts upbear.
Of green, white, crimson, blue and yellow ground,
A frieze extends below those galleries fair.
Here at due intervals rich gems combine,
And topaz, sapphire, emerald, ruby shine.

CV
In wall and roof and pavement scattered are
Full many a pearl, full many a costly stone.
Here thrives the balm; the plants were ever rare,
Compared with these, which were in Jewry grown,
The musk which we possess from thence we bear,
In fine those products from this clime are brought,
Which in our regions are so prized and sought.

CVI
The soldan, king of the Egyptian land,
Pays tribute to this sovereign, as his head,
They say, since having Nile at his command
He may divert the stream to other bed.
Hence, with its district upon either hand,
Forthwith might Cairo lack its daily bread.
Senapus him his Nubian tribes proclaim;
We Priest and Prester John the sovereign name.

CVII
Of all those Aethiop monarchs, beyond measure,
The first was this, for riches and for might;
But he with all his puissance, all his treasure,
Alas! had miserably lost his sight.
And yet was this the monarch's least displeasure;
Vexed by a direr and a worse despite;
Harassed, though richest of those Nubian kings,
By a perpetual hunger's cruel stings.

CVIII
Whene'er to eat or drink the wretched man
Prepared, by that resistless need pursued,
Forthwith -- infernal and avenging clan --
Appeared the monstrous Harpies' craving brood;
Which, armed with beak and talons, overran
Vessel and board, and preyed upon the food;
And what their wombs suffice not to receive
Foul and defiled the loathsome monsters leave.

CIX
And this, because upborn by such a tide
Of full blown honours, in his unripe age,
For he excelled in heart and nerve, beside
The riches of his royal heritage,
Like Lucifer, the monarch waxed in pride,
And war upon his maker thought to wage.
He with his host against the mountain went,
Where Egypt's mighty river finds a vent.

CX
Upon this hill which well-nigh kissed the skies,
Piercing the clouds, the king had heard recite,
Was seated the terrestrial paradise,
Where our first parents flourished in delight.
With camels, elephants, and footmen hies
Thither that king, confiding in his might;
With huge desire if peopled be the land
To bring its nations under his command.

CXI
God marred the rash emprise, and from on high
Sent down an angel, whose destroying sword
A hundred thousand of that chivalry
Slew, and to endless night condemned their lord.
Emerging, next, from hellish caverns, fly
These horrid harpies and assault his board;
Which still pollute or waste the royal meat,
Nor leave the monarch aught to drink or eat.

CXII
And him had plunged in uttermost despair
One that to him erewhile had prophesied
The loathsome Harpies should his daily fare
Leave unpolluted only, when astride
Of winged horse, arriving through the air,
An armed cavalier should be descried.
And, for impossible appears the thing,
Devoid of hope remains the mournful king.

CXIII
Now that with wonderment his followers spy
The English cavalier so make his way,
O'er every wall, o'er every turret high,
Some swiftly to the king the news convey.
Who calls to mind that ancient prophecy,
And heedless of the staff, his wonted stay,
Through joy, with outstretched arms and tottering feet,
Comes forth, the flying cavalier to meet.

CXIV
Within the castle court Astolpho flew,
And there, with spacious wheels, on earth descended;
The king, conducted by his courtly crew,
Before the warrior knelt, with arms extended,
And cried: "Thou angel send of God, thou new
Messiah, if too sore I have offended,
For mercy, yet, bethink thee, 'tis our bent
To sin, and thine to pardon who repent.

CXV
"Knowing my sin, I ask not, I, to be
-- Such grace I dare not ask -- restored to light;
For well I ween such power resides in thee,
As Being accepted in thy Maker's sight.
Let it suffice, that I no longer see,
Nor let me with perpetual hunger fight.
At least, expel the harpies' loathsome horde,
Nor let them more pollute my ravaged board;

CXVI
"And I to build thee, in my royal hold,
A holy temple, made of marble, swear,
With all its portals and its roof of gold,
And decked, within and out, with jewels rare.
Here shall thy mighty miracle be told
In sculpture, and thy name the dome shall bear."
So spake the sightless king of Nubia's reign,
And sought to kiss the stranger's feet in vain.

CXVII
"Nor angel" -- good Astolpho made reply --
"Nor new Messiah, I from heaven descend;
No less a mortal and a sinner I,
To such high grace unworthy to pretend.
To slay the monsters I all means will try,
Or drive them from the realm which they offend.
If I shall prosper, be thy praises paid
To God alone, who sent me to thine aid.

CXVIII
"Offer these vows to God, to him well due;
To him thy churches build, thine altars rear."
Discoursing so, together wend the two,
'Mid barons bold, that king and cavalier.
The Nubian prince commands the menial crew
Forthwith to bring the hospitable cheer;
And hopes that now the foul, rapacious band,
Will not dare snatch the victual from his hand.

CXIX
Forthwith a solemn banquet they prepare
Within the gorgeous palace of the king.
Seated alone here guest and sovereign are,
And the attendant troop the viands bring.
Behold! a whizzing sound is heard in air,
Which echoes with the beat of savage wing.
Behold! the band of harpies thither flies,
Lured by the scent of victual from the skies.

CXX
All bear a female face of pallid dye,
And seven in number are the horrid band;
Emaciated with hunger, lean, and dry;
Fouler than death; the pinions they expand
Ragged, and huge, and shapeless to the eye;
The talon crook'd; rapacious is the hand;
Fetid and large the paunch; in many a fold,
Like snake's, their long and knotted tails are rolled.

CXXI
The fowls are heard in air; then swoops amain
The covey well nigh in that instant, rends
The food, o'erturns the vessels, and a rain
Of noisome ordure on the board descends.
To stop their nostrils king and duke are fain;
Such an insufferable stench offends.
Against the greedy birds, as wrath excites,
Astolpho with his brandished faulchion smites.

CXXII
At croup or collar now he aims his blow,
Now strikes at neck or pinion; but on all,
As if he smote upon a bag of tow,
The strokes without effect and languid fall.
This while nor dish nor goblet they forego;
Nor void those ravening fowls the regal hall,
Till they have feasted full, and left the food
Waste or polluted by their rapine rude.

CXXIII
That king had firmly hoped the cavalier
Would from his royal seat the harpies scare.
He now, that hope foregone, with nought to cheer,
Laments, and sighs, and groans in his despair.
Of his good horn remembers him the peer,
Whose clangours helpful aye in peril are,
And deems his bugle were the fittest mean
To free the monarch from those birds unclean;

CXXIV
And first to fill their ears, to king and train,
With melted wax, Astolpho gives command;
That every one who hears the deafening strain
May not in panic terror fly the land.
He takes the reins, his courser backs again,
Grasps the enchanted bugle in his hand;
And to the sewer next signs to have the board
Anew with hospitable victual stored.

CXXV
The meats he to an open galley bears,
And other banquet spreads on other ground.
Behold, as wont, the harpy-squad appears;
Astolpho quickly lifts the bugle's round;
And (for unguarded are their harassed ears)
The harpies are not proof against the sound;
In terror form the royal dome they speed,
Nor meat nor aught beside the monsters heed.

CXXVI
After them spurs in haste the valiant peer:
And on the winged courser forth is flown,
Leaving beneath him, in his swift career,
The royal castle and the crowded town;
The bugle ever pealing, far and near.
The harpies fly toward the torrid zone;
Nor light until they reach that loftiest mountain
Where springs, if anywhere, Nile's secret fountain.

CXXVII
Almost at that aerial mountain's feet,
Deep under earth, extends a gloomy cell.
The surest pass for him, as they repeat,
That would at any time descend to hell.
Hither the predatory troop retreat,
As a safe refuge from the deafening yell.
As far, and farther than Cocytus' shore
Descending, till that horn is heard no more.

CXXVIII
At that dark hellish inlet, which a way
Opens to him who would abandon light,
The terrifying bugle ceased to bray;
-- The courser furled his wings and stopt his flight.
But, ere Astolpho further I convey,
-- Not to depart from my accustomed rite --
Since on all sides the paper overflows,
I shall conclude my canto and repose.

CANTO 34

ARGUMENT
In the infernal pit Astolpho hears
Of Lydia's woe, by smoke well-nigh opprest.
He mounts anew, and him his courser bears
To the terrestrial paradise addrest.
By John advised in all, to heaven he steers;
Of some of his lost sense here repossest,
Orlando's wasted wit as well he takes,
Sees the Fates spin their threads, and earthward makes.

I
O fierce and hungry harpies, that on blind
And erring Italy so full have fed!
Whom, for the scourge of ancient sins designed,
Haply just Heaven to every board has sped.
Innocent children, pious mothers, pined
With hunger, die, and see their daily bread,
-- The orphan's and the widow's scanty food --
Feed for a single feast that filthy brood.

II
Too foul a fault was his, who did unclose
That cave long shut, and made the passage free,
From whence that greediness, that filth arose,
Our Italy's infection doomed to be.
Then was good life extinguished, and repose
So banished, that with strife and poverty,
With fear and trouble, is she still perplext,
And shall for many a future year be vext:

III
Till she her sons has shaken by the hair,
And from Lethaean sloth to life restored;
Exclaiming, "Will none imitate that pair,
Zethes and Calais, with avenging sword
Rescue from claws and stench our goodly fare,
And cleanse and glad anew the genial board.
As they king Phineus from those fowls released,
And England's peer restored the Nubian's feast?"

IV
Hunting those hideous birds, that cavalier
Aye scared them with the bugle's horrid sound;
Till at the mountain-cave his long career
He closed, and ran the monstrous troop to ground:
Attentive to the vent he held his ear,
And in that troubled cavern heard rebound,
Weeping and wailing, and eternal yell;
Proof certain that its entrance led to hell.

V
Astolpho doubts if he within shall wend,
And see those wretched ones expelled from day;
Into the central pit of earth descend,
And the infernal gulfs around survey.
"Why should I fear, that on my horn depend
For certain succour?" (did the warrior say)
"Satan and Pluto so will I confound,
And drive before me their three-headed hound."

VI
He speedily his winged horse forsook;
(Him to a sapling near at hand he ties)
The cavern entered next; but first he took
His horn, whereon the knight in all relies.
Not far has he advanced before a smoke,
Obscure and foul, offends his nose and eyes.
Ranker than pitch and sulphur is the stench,
Yet not thereat does good Astolpho blench.

VII
But as he more descends into that lair,
So much he finds the smoke and vapour worse;
And it appears he can no further fare;
Nay, backward must retrace his way parforce.
Lo! something (what he knows not) he in air
Espies, that seems in motion, like a corse,
Upon whose wasted form long time had beat
The winter's rain and summers scorching heat.

VIII
In that dim cavern was so little light,
-- Yea, well-nigh might be said that light was none --
Nought sees or comprehends the English knight
What wavers so, above that vapour dun:
For surer proof, a stroke or two would smite
With his good faulchion Otho's valiant son:
Then deemed that duke it was a spirit, whom
He seemed to strike amid the misty gloom.

IX
When him a melancholy voice addressed;
"Ah! without harming other, downward wend.
Me but too sore the sable fumes molest,
Which hither form the hellish fires ascend."
Thereat the duke, amazed, his steps represt,
And to the spirit cried: "So may Heaven send
A respite from the vapours that exhale,
As thou shalt deign to tell thy mournful tale!

X
"And to be known on earth shouldst thou be fain,
Thee will I satisfy."  To him the sprite:
So sweet it seems to me, in fame again
Thus to return into the glorious light,
My huge desire such favour to obtain,
Forces my words from me in my despite,
Constraining me to tell the things ye seek;
Though 'tis annoyance and fatigue to speak.

XI
"Lydia, the child of Lydia's king, am I,
To proud estate and princely honours born,
Condemned by righteous doom of God on high
In murky smoke eternally to mourn:
Because a kindly lover's constancy
I, while I lived, repaid with spite and scorn.
With countless others swarm these grots below,
For the same sin, condemned to the same woe.

XII
"Yet lower down, harsh Anaxarete
Suffers worse pain where thicker fumes arise;
Heaven changed her flesh to stone, and here to be
Tormented, her afflicted spirit sties:
In that unmoved she, hung in air, could see
A lover vest by her barbarities.
Here Daphne learns how rashly she had done
In having given Apollo such a run."

XIII
"Of hosts of ingrate women in this cell
Confined, it would be tedious to recite,
If, one by one, I upon these should dwell;
So many, their amount is infinite.
'Twould be more tedious of the men to tell,
Whose base ingratitude due pains requite;
And whom, in a more dismal prison pent,
Smoke blinds, and everlasting fires torment.

XIV
"Since to belief soft woman is more prone,
He that deceives her, merits heavier pain;
To Theseus and to Jason this is known,
And him that vexed of old the Latian reign,
And him that of his brother Absalon
Erewhile provoked the pestilent disdain,
Because of Thamar; countless is the horde
Of those who left a wife or wedded lord.

XV
"But, rather of my state than theirs to shew,
And sin which brought me hither: -- I was fair,
But so much haughtier was than fair of hue,
I know not if I ever equalled were:
Nor which was most excessive of the two,
My pride of beauty, could to thee declare.
Though it is certain, Pride but took its rise
In that rare loveliness which pleased all eyes.

XVI
"There lived a Thracian knight, for warlike skill
And prowess, upon earth without a peer;
Who, voiced by many a worthy witness still,
The praises of my matchless charms did hear.
So that, of forethought and his own free will,
Fixed all his love on me that cavalier;
Weening this wife that I, upon my part,
Should for his valour duly prize his heart.

XVII
"He came to Lydia, and by faster tie
Was fettered at my sight; and there enrolled
Amid my royal father's chivalry,
In mickle fame increased that baron bold.
His feats of many a sort, and valour high
Would make a tale too tedious to be told;
With what his boundless merit had deserved,
If a more grateful master he had served.

XVIII
"Pamphylia, Caria, and Cilicia's reign,
Through him, my father brought beneath his sway,
Who never moved a-field his martial train,
But when that warrior pointed out the way:
He, when he deemed he had deserved such gain,
Pressed close the Lydian king, upon a day,
And craved me from the monarch as his wife,
As meed of all that booty made in strife.

XIX
"Rej