Canto 5…

Canto 5

ARGUMENT Lurcanio, by a false report abused, Deemed by Geneura's fault his brother dead, Weening the faithless duke, whom she refused, Was taken by the damsel to her bed; And her before the king and peers accused: But to the session Ariodantes led, Strives with his brother in disguise. In season Rinaldo comes to venge the secret treason.

I Among all other animals who prey On earth, or who unite in friendly wise, Whether they mix in peace or moody fray, No male offends his mate. In safety hies The she bear, matched with hers, through forest gray: The lioness beside the lion lies: Wolves, male and female, live in loving cheer; Nor gentle heifer dreads the wilful steer.

II What Fury, what abominable Pest Such poison in the human heart has shed, That still 'twixt man and wife, with rage possessed, Injurious words and foul reproach are said? And blows and outrage hase their peace molest, And bitter tears still wash the genial bed; Not only watered by the tearful flood, But often bathed by senseless ire with blood?

III Not simply a rank sinner, he appears To outrage nature, and his God to dare, Who his foul hand against a woman rears, Or of her head would harm a single hair. But who what drug the burning entrail sears, Or who for her would knife or noose prepare, No man appears to me, though such to sight He seem, but rather some infernal sprite.

IV Such, and no other were those ruffians two, Whom good Rinaldo from the damsel scared, Conducted to these valleys out of view, That none might wot of her so foully snared. I ended where the damsel, fair of hue, To tell the occasion of her scathe prepared, To the good Paladin, who brought release; And in conclusion thus my story piece.

V "Of direr deed than ever yet was done," The gentle dame began, "Sir cavalier, In Thebes, Mycene, Argos, or upon Other more savage soil, prepare to hear; And I believe, that if the circling sun To these our Scottish shores approach less near Than other land, 'tis that he would eschew A foul ferocious race that shocks his view.

VI "All times have shown that man has still pursued With hair, in every clime, his natural foe; But to deal death to those who seek our good Does from too ill and foul a nature flow. Now, that the truth be better understood, I shall from first to last the occasion show, Why in my tender years, against all right, Those caitiffs would have dome me foul despite.

VII " 'Tis fitting you should know, that in the spring Of life, I to the palace made resort; There served long time the daughter of the king, And grew with her in growth, well placed in court. When cruel love, my fortune envying, Willed I should be his follower and his sport; And made, beyond each Scottish lord and knight, Albany's duke find favour in my sight.

VIII "And for he seemed to cherish me above All mean; his love a love as ardent bred. We hear, indeed, and see, but do not prove Man's faith, nor is his bosom's purpose read. Believing still, and yielding to my love, I ceased not till I took him to my bed; Nor, of all chambers, in that evil hour, Marked I was in Geneura's priviest bower.

IX "Where, hoarded, she with careful privacy Preserved whatever she esteemed most rare; There many times she slept. A gallery From thence projected into the open air. Here oft I made my lover climb to me, And (what he was to mount) a hempen stair, When him I to my longing arms would call, From the projecting balcony let fall.

X "For here my passion I as often fed As good Geneura's absence made me bold; Who with the varying season changed her bed, To shun the burning heat or pinching cold, And Albany, unseen and safely sped; For, fronting a dismantled street, and old, Was built that portion of the palace bright; Nor any went that way by day or night.

XI "So was for many days and months maintained By us, in secrecy, the amorous game; Still grew by love, and such new vigour gained, I in my inmost bosom felt the flame; And that he little loved, and deeply feigned Weened not, so was I blinded to my shame: Though, in a thousand certain signs betrayed, The faithless knight his base deceit bewrayed.

XII "After some days, of fair Geneura he A suitor showed himself; I cannot say If this began before he sighed for me, Or, after, of this love he made assay: But judge, alas! with what supremacy He ruled my heart, how absolute his sway! Since this he owned, and thought no shame to move Me to assist him in his second love.

XIII "Unlike what he bore me, he said, indeed, That was not true which he for her displayed; But so pretending love, he hoped to speed, And celebrate due spousals with the maid. He with her royal sire might well succeed, Were she consenting to the boon he prayed; For after our good king, for wealth and birth In all the realm, was none of equal worth.

XIV "Me he persuades, if through my ministry He the king's son-in-law elected were, For I must know he next the king would be Advanced as high, as subject could repair, The merit should be mine, and ever he So great a benefit in mind would bear; And he would cherish me above his bride, And more than every other dame beside.

XV "I, who to please him was entirely bent, Who never could or would gainsay his will, Upon those days alone enjoy content, When I find means his wishes to fulfil: And snatch at all occasions which present A mode, his praise and merits to instil: And for my lover with all labour strain, And industry, Geneura's love to gain.

XVI "With all my heart, in furtherance of his suit, I wrought what could be done, God truly knows; But with Geneura this produced no friut, Nor her to grace my duke could I dispose. For that another love had taken root In her, whose every fond affection flows Towards a gentle knight of courteous lore, Who sought our Scotland from a distant shore:

XVII "And with a brother, then right young, to stay In our king's court, came out of Italy: And there of knightly arms made such assay, Was none in Britain more approved than he; Prized by the king, who (no ignoble pay), Rewarding him like his nobility, Bestowed upon the youth, with liberal hand, Burghs, baronies, and castles, woods and land.

XVIII "Dear to the monarch, to the daughter still This lord was dearer, Ariodantes hight. Her with affection might his valour fill; But knowledge of his love brought more delight. Nor old Vesuvius, nor Sicilia's hill, Nor Troy-town, ever, with a blaze so bright, Flamed, as with all his heart, the damsel learned, For love of her young Ariodantes burned.

XIX "The passion which she bore the lord, preferred And loved with perfect truth and all her heart, Was the occassion I was still unheard; Nor hopeful answer would she e'er impart: And still the more my lover's suit I stirred, And to obtain his guerdon strove with art, Him she would censure still, and ever more Was strengthened in the hate she nursed before.

XX "My wayward lover often I excite So vain and bootless an emprize to quit; Nor idly hope to turn her stedfast sprite, Too deeply with another passion smit; And make apparent to the Scottish knight, Ariodantes such a flame had lit In the young damsel's breast, that seas in flood Would not have cooled one whit her boiling blood.

XXI "This Polinesso many times had heard From me (for such the Scottish baron's name) Well warranted by sight as well as word, How ill his love was cherished by the dame. To see another to himself preferred Not only quenched the haughty warrior's flame, But the fond love, which in his bosom burned Into despiteful rage and hatred turned.

XXII "Between Geneura and her faithful knight Such discord and ill will he schemed to shed, And put betwixt the pair such foul despite. No time should heal the quarrel he had bred; Bringing such scandal on that damsel bright, The stain should cleave to her, alive or dead: Nor, bent to wreck her on this fatal shelf, Counselled with me, or other but himself.

XXIII " `Dalinda mine,' he said, his project brewed, (Dalinda is my name) `you needs must know, That from the root although the trunk be hewed, Successive suckers many times will grow. Thus my unhappy passion is renewed, Tenacious still of life, and buds; although Cut off by ill success, with new increase: Nor, till I compass my desire, will cease.

XXIV " `Nor hope of pleasure this so much has wrought, As that to compass my design would please; And, if not in effect, at least in thought To thrive, would interpose some little ease. Then every time your bower by me is sought, When in her bed Geneura slumbers, seize What she puts off, and be it still your care To dress yourself in all her daily wear.

XXV " `Dispose your locks and deck yourself as she Goes decked; and, as you can, with cunning heed, Imitate her; then to the gallery You, furnished with the corded stair, shall speed: I shall ascend it in the phantasy That you are she, of whom you wear the weed: And hope, that putting on myself this cheat, I in short time shall quench my amorous heat.'

XXVI "So said the knight; and I, who was distraught, And all beside myself, was not aware That the design, in which he help besought, Was manifestly but too foul a snare; And in Geneura's clothes disguised, as taught, Let down (so oft I used) the corded stair. Nor I the traitor's foul deceit perceived, Until the deadly mischief was achieved.

XXVII "The duke, this while, to Ariodantes' ears Had these, or other words like these, addressed; (For leagued in friendship were the cavaliers, Till, rivals, they pursued this common quest) "I marvel, since you are of all my peers He, whom I must have honoured and caressed, And held in high regard, and cherished still, You should my benefits repay so ill.

XXVIII " `I am assured you comprehend and know Mine and Geneura's love, and old accord; And, in legitimate espousal, how I am about to claim her from my lord: Then why disturb my suit, and why bestow Your heart on her who offers no reward? By Heaven, I should respect your claim and place, Were your condition mine, and mine your case.'

XXIX " `And I,' cried Ariodantes, `marvel more' (In answer to the Scottish lord) `at you, Since I of her enamoured was, before That gentle damsel ever met your view; And know, you are assured how evermore We two have loved; -- was never love more true -- Are certain she alone would share my lot; And are as well assured she loves you not.

XXX " `Why have not I from you the same respect, To which, for friendship past, you would pretend From me; and I should bear you in effect, If your hope stood more fair to gain its end? No less than you, to wed her I expect; And if your fortunes here my wealth transcend, As favoured of the king, as you, above You, am I happy in his daughter's love.'

XXXI " `Of what a strange mistake,' (to him replied The duke) `your foolish passion is the root! You think yourself beloved; I, on my side, Believe the same; this try we by the fruit. You of your own proceeding nothing hide, And I will tell the secrets of my suit: And let the man who proves least favoured, yield, Provide himself elsewhere, and quit the field.

XXXII " `I am prepared, if such your wish, to swear Nothing of what is told me to reveal; And will that you assure me, for your share, You shall what I recount as well conceal.' Uniting in the pact, the rival pair Their solemn vows upon the Bible seal: And when they had the mutual promise plighted, Ariodantes first his tale recited.

XXXIII "Then plainly, and by simple facts averred, How with Geneura stood his suit, avows; And how, engaged by writing and by word, She swore she would not be another's spouse. How, if to him the Scottish king demurred, Virgin austerity she ever vows; And other bridal bond for aye eschewed, To pass her days in barren solitude.

XXXIV "Then added, how he hoped by worth, which he Had more than once avouched, with knightly brand, And yet might vouch, to the prosperity And honour of the king, and of his land, To please so well that monarch, as to be By him accounted worthy of the hand Of his fair child, espoused with his consent: Since he in this her wishes would content.

XXXV "Then so concludes -- `I stand upon this ground, Nor I intruder fear, encroaching nigh; Nor seek I more; 'tis here my hopes I bound; Nor, striving for Geneura's love, would I Seek surer sign of it than what is found, By God allowed, in wedlock's lawful tie; And other suit were hopeless, am I sure, So excellent she is, and passing pure.'

XXXVI "When Ariodantes had, with honest mind, Told what reward he hoped should quit his pain, False Polinesso, who before designed To make Geneura hateful to her swain, Began -- `Alas! you yet are far behind My hopes, and shall confess your own are vain; And say, as I the root shall manifest Of my good fortune, I alone am blest.

XXXVII " `With you Geneura feigns, nor pays nor prizes Your passion, which with hopes and words is fed; And, more than this, your foolish love despises: And this to me the damsel oft has said, Of hers I am assured; of no surmises, Vain, worthless words, or idle promise bred. And I to you the fact in trust reveal, Though this I should in better faith conceal.

XXXVIII " `There passes not a month, but in that space Three nights, four, six, and often ten, the fair Receives me with that joy in her embrace, Which seems to second so the warmth we share. This you may witness, and shall judge the case; If empty hopes can with my bliss compare. Then since my happier fortune is above Your wishes, yield, and seek another love.'

XXXIX " `This will I not believe,' in answer cried Ariodantes, `well assured you lie, And that you have this string of falsehoods tied, To scare me from the dear emprize I try. But charge, so passing foul, you shall abide, And vouch what you have said in arms; for I Not only on your tale place no reliance; But as a traitor hurl you my defiance.'

XL "To him rejoined the duke, 'I ween 'twere ill To take the battle upon either part, Since surer mean our purpose may fulfill; And if it please, my proof I can impart.' Ariodantes trembled, and a chill Went through his inmost bones; and sick at heart, Had he in full believed his rival's boast, Would on the spot have yielded up the ghost.

XLI "With wounded heart, and faltering voice, pale face, And mouth of gall, he answered, 'When I see Proofs of thy rare adventure, and the grace With which the fair Geneura honours thee, I promise to forego the fruitless chase Of one, to thee so kind, so cold to me. But think not that thy story shall avail, Unless my very eyes confirm the tale.'

XLII " `To warn in due time shall be my care.' (Said Polinesso) and so went his way. Two nights were scarecly passed, ere his repair To the known bower was fixed for the assay. And, ready now to spring his secret snare, He sought his rival on the appointed day, And him to hide, the night ensuing, prayed I' the street, which none their habitation made.

XLIII "And to the youth a station over-right The balcony, to which he clambered, shows. Ariodantes weened, this while, the knight Would him to seek that hidden place dispose, As one well suited to his fell despite, And, bent to take his life, this ambush chose, Under the false pretence to make him see What seemed a sheer impossibility.

XLIV "To go the peer resolved, but in such guise, He should not be with vantage overlaid; And should he be assaulted by surprise, He need not be by fear of death dismay'd. He had a noble brother, bold and wise, First of the court in arms; and on his aid, Lurcanio hight, relied with better heart Than if ten others fought upon his part.

XLV "He called him to his side, and willed him take His arms; and to the place at evening led: Yet not his secret purpose would be break; Nor this to him, or other would have read: Him a stone's throw removed he placed, and spake: ` -- Come if thou hearest he cry,' the warrior said; `But as thou lovest me (whatsoe'er befall) Come not and move not, brother, till I call.'

XLVI " `Doubt not' (the valiant brother said) `but go'; And thither went that baron silently, And hid within the lonely house, and low, Over against my secret gallery. On the other side approached the fraudful foe, So pleased to work Geneura's infamy; And, while I nothing of the cheat divine, Beneath my bower renews the wonted sign.

XLVII "And I in costly robe, in which were set Fair stripes of gold upon a snowy ground, My tresses gathered in a golden net, Shaded with tassels of vermillion round, Mimicking fashions, which were only met In fair Geneura, at the accustomed sound, The gallery mount, constructed in such mode, As upon every side my person showed.

XLVIII "This while Lurcanio, either with a view To snares which might beset his brother's feet, Or with the common passion to pursue, And play the spy on other, where the street Was darkest, and its deepest shadows threw, Followed him softly to his dim retreat: And not ten paces from the knight aloof, Bestowed himself beneath the self same roof.

XLIX "Suspecting nought, I seek the balcony, In the same habits which I mentioned, dressed; As more than once or twice (still happily) I did before; meanwhile the goodly vest Was in the moonlight clearly seen, and I, In aspect not unlike her, in the rest Resembling much Geneura's shape and cheer, One visage well another might appear.

L "So much the more, that there was ample space Between the palace and the ruined row: Hence the two brothers, posted in that place, Were lightly cheated by the lying show. Now put yourself in his unhappy case, And figure what the wretched lover's woe, When Polinesso climbed the stair, which I Cast down to him, and scaled the gallery.

LI "Arrived, my arms about his neck I throw, Weening that we unseen of others meet, And kiss his lips and face with loving show, As him I hitherto was wont to greet; And he assayed, with more than wonted glow, Me to caress, to mask his hollow cheat. Led to the shameful spectacle, aghast, That other, from afar, viewed all that passed,

LII "And fell into such fit of deep despair, He there resolved to die; and, to that end, Planted the pommel of his falchion bare I' the ground, its point against his breast to bend. Lurcanio, who with marvel by that stair, Saw Polinesso to my bower ascend, But knew not who the wight, with ready speed Sprang forward, when he saw his brother's deed.

LIII "And hindered him in that fell agony From turning his own hand against his breast. Had the good youth been later, or less nigh, To his assistance he had vainly pressed. Then, `Wretched brother, what insanity.' (He cried) `your better sense has dispossessed? Die for a woman! rather let her kind Be scattered like the mist before the wind!

LIV " `Compass her death! 'tis well deserved; your own Reserve, as due to more illustrious fate. 'Twas well to love, before her fraud was shown, But she, once loved, now more deserves your hate: Since, witnessed by your eyes, to you is known A wanton of what sort you worshipped late. Her fault before the Scottish king to attest, Reserve those arms you turn against your breast.'

LV "Ariodantes, so surprised, forewent, Joined by his brother, the design in show; But resolute to die, in his intent Was little shaken: Rising thence to go, He bears away a heart not simply rent, But dead and withered with excess of woe: Yet better comfort to Lurcanio feigns, As if the rage were spent which fired his veins.

LVI "The morn ensuing, without further say To his good brother, or to man beside, He from the city took his reckless way With deadly desperation for his guide; Nor, save the duke and knight, for many a day Was there who knew what moved the youth to ride: And in the palace, touching this event, And in the realm, was various sentiment.

LVII "But eight days past or more, to Scotland's court A traveller came, and to Geneura he Related tidings of disastrous sort; That Ariodantes perished in the sea: Drowned of his own free will was the report, No wind to blame for the calamity! Since from a rock, which over ocean hung, Into the raging waves he headlong sprung;

LVIII " `Who said, before he reached that frowning crest, To me, whom he encountered by the way, Come with me, that your tongue may manifest, And what betides me to Geneura say; And tell her, too, the occasion of the rest, Which you shall witness without more delay; In having seen too much, the occasion lies; Happy had I been born without these eyes!"

LIX " `By chance, upon a promontory we Were standing, overright the Irish shore; When, speaking thus on that high headland, he Plunged from a rock amid the watery roar. I saw him leap, and left him in the sea; And, hurrying thence, to you the tidings bore.' Geneura stood amazed, her colour fled, And, at the fearful tale, remained half dead.

LX "O God! what said, what did she, when alone, She on her faithful pillow layed her head! She beat her bosom, and she tore her gown, And in despite her golden tresses shed; Repeating often, in bewildered tone, The last sad words which Ariodantes said; -- That the sole source of such despair, and such Disaster, was that he had seen too much.

LXI "Wide was the rumour scattered that the peer Had slain himself for grief; nor was the cry By courtly dame, or courtly cavalier, Or by the monarch, heard with tearless eye. But, above all the rest, his brother dear Was whelmed with sorrow of so deep a dye, That, bent to follow him, he well nigh turned His hand against himself, like him he mourned.

LXII "And many times repeating in his thought, It was Geneura who his brother slew, Who was to self-destruction moved by nought But her ill deed, which he was doomed to view, So on his mind the thirst of vengeance wrought, And so his grief his season overthrew; That he thought little, graced of each estate, To encounter king and people's common hate;

LXIII "And, when the throng was fullest in the hall, Stood up before the Scottish king, and said, `Of having marred my brother's wits withal, Sir king, and him to his destruction led, Your daughter only can I guilty call: For in his inmost soul such sorrow bred The having seen her little chastity, He loathed existence, and preferred to die.

LXIV " `He was her lover; and for his intent Was honest, this I seek not, I, to veil; And to deserve her by his valour meant Of thee, if faithful service might avail; But while he stood aloof, and dared but scent The blossoms, he beheld another scale, Scale the forbidden tree with happier boot, And bear away from him the wished-for fruit.'

LXV "Then added, how into the gallery came Geneura, and how dropped the corded stair; And how into the chamber of the dame Had climbed a leman of that lady fair; Who, for disguise (he knew not hence his name), Had changed his habits, and concealed his hair; And, in conclusion, vowed that every word So said, he would avouch with lance and sword.

LXVI "You may divine how grieves the sire, distraught With woe, when he the accusation hears: As well that what he never could have thought, He of his daughter learns with wondering ears, As that he knows, if succour be not brought By cavalier, that in her cause appears, Who may upon Lurcanio prove the lie, He cannot choose, but doom the maid to die.

LXVII "I do not think our Scottish law to you Is yet unknown, which sentences to fire The miserable dame, or damsel, who Grants other than her wedded lord's desire. She dies, unless a champion, good and true, Arm on her side before a month expire; And her against the accuser base maintain Unmeriting such death, and free from stain.

LXVIII "The king has made proclaim by town and tower, (For he believes her wronged, his child to free) Her he shall have to wife, with ample dower, Who saves the royal maid from infamy. But each to the other looks, and to this hour No champion yet, 'tis said, appears: for he, Lurcanio, is esteemed so fierce in fight, It seems as he were feared of every knight.

"And evil Fate has willed her brother dear, Zerbino, is not here the foe to face; Since many months has roved the cavalier, Proving his matchless worth with spear and mace; For if the valiant champion were more near, (Such is his courage) or in any place, Whither in time the news might be conveyed, He would not fail to bear his sister aid.

LXX "The king, mean time, who would the quest pursue, And by more certain proof than combat, try If the accuser's tale be false or true, And she deserve, or merit not, to die, Arrests some ladies of her retinue, That, as he weens, the fact can verify. Whence I foresaw, that if I taken were, Too certain risque the duke and I must share.

LXXI "That very night I from the palace flee, And to the duke repair, escaped from court; And, were I taken, make him plainly see How much it either's safety would import: He praised, and bade me of good courage be, And, for his comfort, prayed me to resort To a strong castle which he held hard by; And gave me two to bear me company.

LXXII "With what full proofs, sir stranger, you have heard, I of my love assured the Scottish peer; And clearly can discern, if so preferred, That lord was justly bound to hold me dear. Mark, in conclusion, what was my reward; The glorious meed of my great merit hear! And say if woman can expect to earn, However well she love, her love's return.

LXXIII "For this perfidious, foul, ungrateful man, At length suspicious of my faith and zeal, And apprehending that his wily plan, In course of time, I haply might reveal, Feigned that meanwhile the monarch's anger ran Too high, he would withdraw me, and conceal Within a fortress of his own, where I (Such was his real end) was doomed to die.

LXXIV "For secretly the duke enjoined the guide, Who with me through the gloomy forest went, The worthy guerdon of a faith so tried, To slay me; and had compassed his intent, But for your ready succour, when I cried. Behold! what wages love's poor slaves content." Thus to Rinaldo did Dalinda say, As they together still pursued their way.

LXXV Above all other fortune, to the knight Was welcome to have found the gentle maid, Who the whole story of Geneura bright, And her unblemished innocence displayed; And, if he hoped, although accused with right, To furnish the afflicted damsel aid, Persuaded of the calumny's disproof, He with more courage warred in her behoof.

LXXVI And for St. Andrew's town, with eager speed, Where was the king with all his family, And where the single fight, in listed mead, Upon his daughter's quarrel, was to be, The good Rinaldo pricked, nor spared his steed, Until, within an easy distance, he Now near the city, met a squire who brought More recent tidings than the damsel taught:

LXXVII That thither had repaired a stranger knight, To combat in Geneura's quarrel bent, With ensigns strange, not known of living wight, Since ever close concealed the warrior went; Not, since he had been there, had bared to sight His visage, aye within his helmet pent: And that the very squire who with him came, Swore that he knew not what the stranger's name.

LXXVIII Not far they ride before the walls appear, And now before the gate their coursers stand. To advance the sad Dalinda was in fear, Yet followed, trusting in Rinaldo's brand. The gate was shut, and to the porter near, What this implies Rinaldo makes demand: To him was said, the people, one and all, Were trooped to see a fight without the wall:

LXXIX Beyond the city, fought upon accord, Between Lurcanio and a stranger knight; Where, on a spacious meadow's level sward, The pair already had begun the fight. The porter opened to Mount Alban's lord, And straight behind the peer the portal hight. Rinaldo through the empty city rode, But in a hostel first the dame bestowed:

LXXX And will that she (he will not long delay To seek her there) till his return repose; And quickly to the lists pursued his way, Where the two made that fell exchange of blows, And strove and struggled yet in bloody fray. Lurcanio's heart with vengeful hatred glows Against Geneura; while that other knight As well maintains the quarrel for her right.

LXXXI Six knights on foot within the palisade Stand covered with the corslet's iron case; Beneath the Duke of Albany arrayed, Borne on a puissant steed of noble race: Who there, as lord high-constable obeyed, Was keeper of the field and of the place, And joyed Geneura's peril to espy With swelling bosom and exulting eye.

LXXXII Rinaldo pierces through the parted swarm, (So wide is felt the good Bayardo's sway,) And he who hears the courser come in storm, Halts not, in his desire to make him way: Above is seen Rinaldo's lofty form, The flower of those who mix in martial fray. He stops his horse before the monarch's chair, While all to hear the paladin repair.

LXXXIII "Dread sir," to him the good Rinaldo said, "Let not the pair this combat longer ply; Since whichsoever of the two falls dead, Know, that you let him perish wrongfully: This thinks that he is right, and is misled, Vouches the false, and knows not 'tis a lie: Since that which brought his brother to his end, Moves him in causeless battle contend.

LXXXIV "That, in pure gentleness, with little care If what he here maintains be wrong or right, Because he would preserve a maid so fair, Perils his person in the furious fight. To injured innocence I safety bear, And to the evil man its opposite. But first, for love of God, the battle stay; Then list, sir king, to what I shall display."

LXXXV So moved the king the grave authority Of one who seemed so worthy, by his cheer, That he made sign the battle should not be Further continued then with sword or spear: To whom, together with his chivalry, And barons of the realm and others near Rinaldo all the treacherous plot displayed, Which Polinesso for Geneura layed.

LXXXVI Next that he there in arms would testify The truth of what he vouched, the warrior cried. False Polinesso, called, with troubled eye, Stood forth, but daringly the tale denied. To him the good Rinaldo in reply; "By deeds be now the doubtful quarrel tried." The field was cleared, and, ready armed, the foes, Without more let, in deadly duel close.

LXXXVII How was the hope to king and people dear, The proof might show Geneura innocent! All trust that God will make the treason clear, And show she was accused with foul intent: For Polinesso, greedy and severe, And proud was held, and false and fraudulent. So that none there, of all assembled, deemed It marvel, if the knight such fraud had schemed.

LXXXVIII False Polinesso, with a mien distressed, A pallid cheek, and heart which thickly beat, At the third trumpet, laid his lance in rest; As well Rinaldo spurred the knight to meet, And levelled at his evil foeman's breast, Eager to finish at a single heat. Nor counter to his wish was the event; Since through the warrior half his weapon went.

LXXXIX Him, through his breast, impaled upon the spear, More than six yards beyond his horse he bore. With speed alighted Mount Albano's peer, And, ere he rose, unlaced the helm he wore: But he for mercy prayed with humble cheer, Unfit to strive in joust or warfare more: And, before king and court, with faltering breath, Confessed the fraud which brought him to his death.

XC He brings not his confession to a close, And pangs of death the failing accents drown: The prince, who ended saw his daughter's woes, Redeemed from death and scorn, her virtue shown, With more delight and rapture overflows, Than if he, having lost his kingly crown, Then saw it first upon his head replaced; So that he good Rinaldo singly graced.

XCI And when, through his uplifted casque displaid, Features, well known before, the king descried, His thanks to God with lifted hands he paid, That he had deigned such succour to provide. That other cavalier, who bared his blade, Unknown of all, upon Geneura's side, And thither came from far, his aid to impart, Looked upon all that passed, and stood apart.

XCII Him the good king entreated to declare His name, or, at the least, his visage shew; That he might grace him with such guerdon fair, As to his good intent was justly due. The stranger, after long and earnest prayer, Lifted to covering casque, and bared to view What in the ensuing canto will appear, If you are fain the history to hear.

Canto 6

ARGUMENT Ariodantes has, a worthy meed, With his loved bride, the fief of Albany. Meantime Rogero, on the flying steed, Arrives in false Alcina's empery: There from a myrtle-tree her every deed, A human myrtle hears, and treachery, And thence would go; but they who first withdrew Him from one strife, engage him in a new.

I Wretched that evil man who lives in trust His secret sin is safe in his possession! Since, if nought else, the air, the very dust In which the crime is buried, makes confession, And oftentimes his guilt compels the unjust, Though sometime unarraigned in worldly session, To be his own accuser, and bewray, So God has willed, deeds hidden from the day.

II The unhappy Polinesso hopes had nursed, Wholly his secret treason to conceal. By taking off Dalinda, who was versed In this, and only could the fact reveal; And adding thus a second to his first Offence, but hurried on the dread appeal, Which haply he had stunned, at least deferred; But he to self-destruction blindly spurred.

III And forfeited estate, and life, and love Of friends at once, and honour, which was more. The cavalier unknown, I said above, Long of the king and court entreated sore, At length the covering helmet did remove, And showed a visage often seen before, The cherished face of Ariodantes true, Of late lamented weeping Scotland through;

IV Ariodantes, whom with tearful eye His brother and Geneura wept as dead, And king, and people, and nobility: Such light his goodness and his valour shed. The pilgrim therefore might appear to lie In what he of the missing warrior said. Yet was it true that from a headland, he Had seen him plunge into the foaming sea.

V But, as it oft befalls despairing wight, Who grisly Death desires till he appear; But loathes what he had sought, on nearer sight; So painful seems the cruel pass and drear. Thus, in the sea engulphed, the wretched knight, Repentant of his deed, was touched with fear; And, matchless both for spirit and for hand, Beat back the billows, and returned to land.

VI And, now despising, as of folly bred, The fond desire which did to death impell, Thence, soaked and dripping wet, his way did tread, And halted at a hermit's humble cell: And housed within the holy father's shed, There secretly awhile designed to dwell; Till to his ears by rumour should be voiced, If his Geneura sorrowed or rejoiced.

VII At first he heard that, through excess of woe, The miserable damsel well-nigh died: For so abroad the doleful tidings go, 'Twas talked of in the island, far and wide: Far other proof than that deceitful show, Which to his cruel grief he thought he spied! And next against the fair Geneura heard Lurcanio to her sire his charge preferred:

VIII Nor for his brother felt less enmity Than was the love he lately bore the maid; For he too foul, and full of cruelty, Esteemed the deed, although for him essayed; And, hearing after, in her jeopardy, That none appeared to lend the damsel aid, Because so puissant was Lurcanio's might, All dreaded an encounter with the knight,

IX And that who well the youthful champion knew, Believed he was so wary and discreet, That, had what he related been untrue, He never would have risqued so rash a feat, -- For this the greater part the fight eschew, Fearing in wrongful cause the knight to meet -- Ariodantes (long his doubts are weighed) Will meet his brother in Geneura's aid.

X "Alas! (he said) I cannot bear to see Thus by my cause the royal damsel die; My death too bitter and too dread would be, Did I, before my own, her death descry; For still my lady, my divinity She is; -- the light and comfort of my eye. Her, right or wrong, I cannot choose but shield, And for her safety perish in the field.

XI "I know I choose the wrong, and be it so! And in the cause shall die: nor this would move; But that, alas! my death, as well I know, Will such a lovely dame's destruction prove, To death I with one only comfort go, That, if her Polinesso bears her love, To her will manifestly be displayed, That hitherto he moves not in her aid.

XII "And me, so wronged by her, the maid shall view Encounter death in her defence; and he, My brother, who such flames of discord blew, Shall pay the debt of vengeance due to me. For well I ween to make Lurcanio rue (Informed of the event) his cruelty, Who will have thought to venge me with his brand, And will have slain me with his very hand."

XIII He, having this concluded in his thought, Made new provision of arms, steed, and shield; Black was the vest and buckler which he bought, Where green and yellow striped the sable field: By hazard found, with him a squire he brought, A stranger in that country; and, concealed (As is already told) the unhappy knight, Against his brother came, prepared for fight.

XV And yielding to his natural inclination, And at the suit of all his court beside, And mostly at Rinaldo's instigation, Assigned the youth the damsel as his bride. Albany's duchy, now in sequestration, Late Polinesso's, who in duel died, Could not be forfeited in happier hour; Since this the monarch made his daughter's dower.

XVI Rinaldo for Dalinda mercy won; Who from her fault's due punishment went free. She, satiate of the world, (and this to shun, The damsel so had vowed) to God will flee: And hence, in Denmark's land, to live a nun, Straight from her native Scotland sailed the sea. But it is time Rogero to pursue, Who on his courser posts the welkin through.

XVII Although Rogero is of constant mind, Not from his cheek the wonted hues depart. I ween that faster than a leaf i' the wind Fluttered within his breast the stripling's heart. All Europe's region he had left behind In his swift course; and, issuing in that part, Passed by a mighty space, the southern sound Where great Alcides fixed the sailor's bound.

XVIII That hippogryph, huge fowl, and strange to sight, Bears off the warrior with such rapid wing, He would have distanced, in his airy flight, The thunder bearing bird of Aether's king: Nor other living creature soars such height, Him in his mighty swiftness equalling. I scarce believe that bolt, or lightning flies, Or darts more swiftly from the parted skies.

XIX When the huge bird his pinions long had plied, In a straight line, without one stoop or bend, He, tired of air, with sweeping wheel and wide, Began upon an island to descend; Like that fair region, whither, long unspied Of him, her wayward mood did long offend, Whilom in vain, through strange and secret sluice, Passed under sea the Virgin Arethuse.

XX A more delightful place, wherever hurled Through the whole air, Rogero had not found: And, had he ranged the universal world, Would not have seen a lovelier in his round, Than that, where, wheeling wide, the courser furled His spreading wings, and lighted on the ground, 'Mid cultivated plain, delicious hill, Moist meadow, shady bank, and crystal rill.

XXI Small thickets, with the scented laurel gay, Cedar, and orange, full of fruit and flower, Myrtle and palm, with interwoven spray, Pleached in mixed modes, all lovely, form a bower; And, breaking with their shade the scorching ray, Make a cool shelter from the noontide hour. And nightingales among those branches wing Their flight, and safely amorous descants sing.

XXII Amid red roses and white lilies there, Which the soft breezes freshen as they fly, Secure the cony haunts, and timid hare, And stag, with branching forehead broad and high. These, fearless of the hunter's dart or snare, Feed at their ease, or ruminating lie: While, swarming in those wilds, from tuft or steep Dun deer or nimble goat, disporting, leap.

XXIII When the hyppogryph above the island hung, And had approached so nigh that landscape fair, That, if his rider from the saddle sprung, He might the leap with little danger dare, Rogero lit the grass and flowers among, But held him, lest he should remount the air: And to a myrtle, nigh the rolling brine, Made fast, between a bay-tree and a pine.

XXIV And there, close-by where rose a bubbling fount, Begirt the fertile palm and cedar-tree, He drops the shield, the helmet from his front Uplifts, and, either hand from gauntlet free, Now turning to the beach, and now the mount, Catches the gales which blow from hill or sea, And, with a joyous murmur, lightly stir The lofty top of beech, or feathery fir:

XXV And, now, to bathe his burning lips he strains; Now dabbles in the crystal wave, to chase The scorching heat which rages in his veins, Caught from the heavy corslet's burning case. Nor is it marvel if the burden pains; No ramble his in square or market-place! Three thousand miles, without repose, he went, And still, at speed, in ponderous armour pent.

XXVI Meanwhile the courser by the myrtle's side, Whom he left stabled in the cool retreat, Started at something in the wood descried, Scared by I know not what; and in his heat So made the myrtle shake where he was tied, He brought a shower of leaves about his feet; He made the myrtle shake and foliage fall, But, struggling, could not loose himself withal.

XXVII As in a stick to feed the chimney rent, Where scanty pith ill fills the narrow sheath, The vapour, in its little channel pent, Struggles, tormented by the fire beneath; And, till its prisoned fury find a vent, Is heard to hiss and bubble, sing and seethe: So the offended myrtle inly pined, Groaned, murmured, and at last unclosed its rind:

XXVIII And hence a clear, intelligible speech Thus issued, with a melancholy sound; "If, as thy cheer and gentle presence teach, Thou courteous art and good, his reign unbound, Release me from this monster, I beseech: Griefs of my own inflict sufficient wound: Nor need I, compassed with such ills about, Other new pain to plague me from without."

XXIX At the first sound, Rogero turns to see Whence came the voice, and, in unused surprise, Stands, when he finds it issues from the tree; And swiftly to remove the courser hies. Then, with a face suffused with crimson, he In answer to the groaning myrtle, cries; "Pardon! and, whatsoe'er thou art, be good, Spirit of man, or goddess of the wood!

XXX "Unweeting of the wonderous prodigy Of spirit, pent beneath the knotty rind, To your fair leaf and living body I Have done this scathe and outrage undesigned. But not the less for that, to me reply, What art thou, who, in rugged case confined, Dost live and speak? And so may never hail From angry heaven your gentle boughs assail!

XXXI "And if I now or ever the despite I did thee can repair, or aid impart, I, by that lady dear, my promise plight, Who in her keeping has my better part, To strive with word and deed, till thou requite The service done with praise and grateful heart." Rogero said; and, as he closed his suit, That gentle myrtle shook from top to root.

XXXII Next drops were seen to stand upon the bark, As juice is sweated by the sapling-spray, New-severed, when it yields to flame and spark, Sometime in vain kept back and held at bay. And next the voice began: "My story dark, Forced by thy courteous deed, I shall display; -- What once I was -- by whom, through magic lore, Changed to a myrtle on the pleasant shore.

XXXIII "A peer of France, Astolpho was my name, Whilom a paladin, sore feared in fight; Cousin I was to two of boundless fame, Orlando and Rinaldo. I by right Looked to all England's crown; my lawful claim After my royal father, Otho hight. More dames than one my beauty served to warm, And in conclusion wrought my single harm.

XXXIV "Returning from those isles, whose eastern side The billows of the Indian ocean beat, Where good Rinaldo and more knights beside With me were pent in dark and hollow seat, Thence, rescued by illustrious Brava's pride, Whose prowess freed us from that dark retreat, Westward I fared along the sandy shores, On which the stormy north his fury pours.

XXXV "Pursuing thus our rugged journey, we Came (such our evil doom) upon the strand, Where stood a mansion seated by the sea: Puissant Alcina owned the house and land. We found her, where, without her dwelling, she Had taken on the beach her lonely stand; And though nor hook nor sweeping net she bore, What fish she willed, at pleasure drew to shore.

XXXVI "Thither swift dolphins gambol, inly stirred, And open-mouthed the cumbrous tunnies leap; Thither the seal or porpus' wallowing herd Troop at her bidding, roused from lazy sleep; Raven-fish, salmon, salpouth, at her word, And mullet hurry through the briny deep, With monstrous backs above the water, sail Ork, physeter, sea-serpent, shark, and whale.

XXXVII "There we behold a mighty whale, of size The hugest yet in any water seen: More than eleven paces, to our eyes, His back appears above the surface green: And (for still firm and motionless he lies, And such the distance his two ends between) We all are cheated by the floating pile, And idly take the monster for an isle.

XXXVIII "Alcina made the ready fish obey By simple words and by mere magic lore: Born with Morgana -- but I cannot say If at one birth, or after or before. As soon as seen, my aspect pleased the fay; Who showed it in the countenance she wore: Then wrought with art, and compassed her intent, To part me from the friends with whom I went.

XXXIX "She came towards us with a cheerful face, With graceful gestures, and a courteous air, And said: 'So you my lodging please to grace, Sir cavalier, and will with me repair, You shall behold the wonders of my chace, And note the different sorts of fish I snare; Shaggy or smooth, or clad in scales of light, And more in number than the stars of night:

XL " 'And would you hear a mermaid sing so sweet, That the rude sea grows civil at her song, Wont at this hour her music to repeat, (With that she showed the monster huge and long -- I said it seemed an island -- as her seat) Pass with me where she sings the shoals among.' I, that was always wilful, at her wish, I now lament my rashness, climb the fish.

XLI "To Dudon and Rinaldo's signal blind, I go, who warn me to misdoubt the fay. With laughing face Alcina mounts behind, Leaving the other two beside the bay. The obedient fish performs the task assigned, And through the yielding water works his way. Repentant of my deed, I curse the snare, Too far from land my folly to repair.

XLII "To aid me swam Mount Alban's cavalier, And was nigh drowned amid the waves that rise; For a south-wind sprang up that, far and near, Covered with sudden darkness seas and skies. I know not after what befel the peer: This while Alcina to console me tries, And all that day, and night which followed, me Detained upon that monster in mid-sea,

XLIII "Till to this isle we drifted with the morn, Of which Alcina keeps a mighty share; By that usurper from a sister torn, Who was her father's universal heir: For that she only was in wedlock born, And for those other two false sisters were (So well-instructed in the story, said One who rehearsed the tale) in incest bred.

XLIV "As these are practised in iniquity, And full of every vice and evil art; So she, who ever lives in chastity, Wisely on better things has set her heart. Hence, leagued against her, in conspiracy, Those others are, to drive her from her part: And more than once their armies have o'errun Her realm, and towns above a hundred won.

XLV "Nor at this hour a single span of ground Would Logistilla (such her name) command, But that a mountain here, and there a sound, Protects the remnant from the invading band. 'Tis thus the mountain and the river bound England, and part it from the Scottish land. Yet will the sisters give their foe no rest, Till of her scanty remnant dispossest.

XLVI "Because in wickedness and vice were bred The pair, as chaste and good they loath the dame. But, to return to what I lately said, And to relate how I a plant became; Me, full of love, the kind Alcina fed With full delights; nor I a weaker flame For her, within my burning heart did bear, Beholding her so courteous and so fair.

XLVII "Clasped in her dainty limbs, and lapt in pleasure, I weened that I each separate good had won, Which to mankind is dealt in different measure, Little or more to some, and much to none. I evermore contemplated my treasure, Nor France nor aught beside I thought upon: In her my every fancy, every hope Centered and ended as their common scope.

XLVIII "By her I was as much beloved, or more; Nor did Alcina now for other care; She left her every lover; for before, Others, in truth, the fairy's love did share: I was her close adviser evermore; And served by her, where they commanded were. With me she counselled, and to me referred; Nor, night nor day, to other spake a word.

XLIX "Why touch my wounds, to aggravate my ill, And that, alas! without the hope of cure? Why thus the good possessed remember still, Amid the cruel penance I endure? When kindest I believed Alcina's will, And fondly deemed my happiness secure, From me the heart she gave, the fay withdrew, And yielded all her soul to love more new.

L "Late I discerned her light and fickle bent, Still loving and unloving at a heat: Two months, I reigned not more, no sooner spent, Than a new paramour assumed my seat; And me, with scorn, she doomed to banishment, From her fair grace cast out. 'Tis then I weet I share a thousand lovers' fate, whom she Had to like pass reduced, all wrongfully.

LI "And these, because they should not scatter bruits, Roaming the world, of her lascivious ways, She, up and down the fruitful soil, transmutes To olive, palm, or cedar, firs or bays. These, as you see me changed, Alcina roots; While this transformed into a monster strays; Another melts into a liquid rill; As suits that haughty fairy's wanton will.

LII "Thou, too, that to this fatal isle art led By way unwonted and till now unknown, That some possessor of the fairy's bed, May be for thee transformed to wave or stone, Thou shalt, with more than mortal pleasures fed, Have from Alcina seigniory and throne; But shalt be sure to join the common flock, Transformed to beast or fountain, plant or rock.

LIII "I willingly to thee this truth impart, Not that I hope with profit to advise: Yet 'twill be better, that informed, in part, Of her false ways, she harm not by surprise. Perhaps, as faces differ, and in art And wit of man an equal difference lies, Thou may'st some remedy perchance apply To the ill, which thousand others could not fly."

LIV The good Rogero, who from Fame had learned That he was cousin to the dame he wooed, Lamented much the sad Astolpho, turned From his true form, to barren plant and rude: And for her love, for whom so sore he burned, Would gladly serve the stripling if he cou'd: But, witless how to give the wished relief, Might but console the unhappy warrior's grief.

LV As best he could, he strove to soothe his pain; Then asked him, if to Logistil's retreat Were passage, whether over hill or plain; That he might so eschew Alcina's seat. -- `There was a way', the myrtle said again, -- `But rough with stones, and rugged to the feet -- If he, some little further to the right, Would scale the Alpine mountain's very height:

LVI `But that he must not think he shall pursue The intended journey far; since by the way He will encounter with a frequent crew, And fierce, who serve as rampart to the fay, That block the road against the stranger, who Would break her bounds, and the deserter stay.' Rogero thanked the tree for all, and taught, Departed thence with full instructions fraught.

LVII The courser from the myrtle he untied, And by the bridle led behind him still; Nor would he, as before, the horse bestride, Lest he should bear him off against his will: He mused this while how safely he might find A passage to the land of Logistil; Firm in his purpose every nerve to strain, Lest empire over him Alcina gain.

LVIII He to remount the steed, and through the air To spur him to a new career again Now thought; but doubted next, in fear to fare Worse on the courser, restive to the rein. "No, I will win by force the mountain stair," Rogero said; (but the resolve was vain) Nor by the beach two miles his way pursued, Ere he Alcina's lovely city viewed.

LIX A lofty wall at distance meets his eye Which girds a spacious town within its bound; It seems as if its summit touched the sky, And all appears like gold from top to ground. Here some one says it is but alchemy -- And haply his opinion is unsound -- And haply he more wittily divines: For me, I deem it gold because it shines.

LX When he was nigh the city-walls, so bright, The world has not their equal, he the straight And spacious way deserts, the way which dight Across the plain, conducted to the gate; And by that safer road upon the right, Strains now against the mountain; but, in wait, Encounters soon the crowd of evil foes, Who furiously the Child's advance oppose.

LXI Was never yet beheld a stranger band, Of mien more hideous, or more monstrous shape. Formed downwards from neck like men, he scanned Some with the head of cat, and some of ape; With hoof of goat that other stamped the sand; While some seemed centaurs, quick in fight and rape; Naked, or mantled in outlandish skin. These doting sires, those striplings bold in sin.

LXII This gallops on a horse without a bit; This backs the sluggish ass, or bullock slow; These mounted on the croup of centaur sit: Those perched on eagle, crane, or estridge, go. Some male, some female, some hermaphrodit, These drain the cup and those the bungle blow. One bore a corded ladder, one a book; One a dull file, or bar of iron shook.

LXIII The captain of this crew, which blocked the road, Appeared, with monstrous paunch and bloated face; Who a slow tortoise for a horse bestrode, That passing sluggishly with him did pace: Down looked, some here, some there, sustained the load, For he was drunk, and kept him in his place. Some wipe his brows and chin from sweat which ran, And others with their vests his visage fan.

LXIV One, with a human shape and feet, his crest, Fashioned like hound, in neck and ears and head, Bayed at the gallant Child with angry quest, To turn him to the city whence he fled. "That will I never, while of strength possessed To brandish this," the good Rogero said: With that his trenchant faulchion he displayed, And pointed at him full the naked blade.

LXV That monster would have smote him with a spear, But swiftly at his foe Rogero sprung, Thrust at his paunch, and drove his faulchion sheer Through his pierced back a palm; his buckler flung Before him, and next sallied there and here: But all too numerous was the wicked throng. Now grappled from behind, now punched before, He stands, and plies the crowd with warfare sore.

LXVI One to the teeth, another to the breast, Of that foul race he cleft; since no one steeled In mail, his brows with covering helmet dressed, Or fought, secured by corslet or by shield; Yet is he so upon all quarters pressed, That it would need the Child, to clear the field, And to keep off the wicked crew which swarms, More than Briareus' hundred hands and arms.

LXVII If he had thought the magic shield to show, (I speak of that the necromancer bore, Which dazed the sight of the astonished foe, Left at his saddle by the wizard Moor) That hideous band, in sudden overthrow, Blinded by this, had sunk the knight before. But haply he despised such mean as vile, And would prevail by valour, not by guile.

LXVIII This as it may: the Child would meet his fate, Ere by so vile a band be prisoner led; When, lo! forth issuing from the city's gate, Whose wall appeared like shining gold I said, Two youthful dames, not born in low estate, If measured by their mien and garb, nor bred By swain, in early wants and troubles versed; But amid princely joys in palace nursed!

LXIX On unicorn was seated either fair, A beast than spotless ermine yet more white; So lovely were the damsels, and so rare Their garb, and with such graceful fashion dight, That he who closely viewed the youthful pair, Would need a surer sense than mortal sight, To judge between the two. With such a mien Embodied Grace and Beauty would be seen.

LXX Into the mead rode this and the other dame, Where the foul crew opposed the Child's retreat. The rabble scattered as the ladies came, Who with extended hand the warrior greet. He, with a kindling visage, red with shame, Thanked the two damsels for their gentle feat; And was content upon their will to wait, With them returning to that golden gate.

LXXI Above, a cornice round the gateway goes, Somedeal projecting from the colonnade, In which is not a single part but glows, With rarest gems of India overlaid. Propp'd at four points, the portal did repose On columns of one solid diamond made. Whether what met the eye was false or true, Was never sight more fair or glad to view.

LXXII Upon the sill and through the columns there, Ran young and wanton girls, in frolic sport; Who haply yet would have appeared more fair, Had they observed a woman's fitting port. All are arrayed in green, and garlands wear Of the fresh leaf. Him these in courteous sort, With many proffers and fair mien entice, And welcome to this opening Paradise:

LXXIII For so with reason I this place may call, Where, it is my belief, that Love had birth; Where life is spent in festive game and ball, And still the passing moments fleet in mirth. Here hoary-headed Thought ne'er comes at all, Nor finds a place in any bosom. Dearth, Nor yet Discomfort, never enter here, Where Plenty fills her horn throughout the year.

LXXIV Here, where with jovial and unclouded brow, Glad April seems to wear a constant smile, Troop boys and damsels: One, whose fountains flow, On the green margin sings in dulcet style; Others, the hill or tufted tree below, In dance, or no mean sport the hours beguile. While this, who shuns the revellers' noisy cheer, Tells his love sorrows in his comrade's ear.

LXXV Above the laurel and pine-tree's height, Through the tall beech and shaggy fir-tree's spray, Sport little loves, with desultory flight: These, at their conquests made, rejoiced and gay: These, with the well-directed shaft, take sight At hearts, and those spread nets to catch their prey; One wets his arrows in the brook which winds, And one on whirling stone the weapon grinds.

LXXVI To good Rogero here was brought a steed, Puissant and nimble, all of sorel hue; Who was caparisoned with costly weed, Broidered with gold, and jewels bright to view. That other winged horse, which, at his need, Obedient to the Moorish wizard flew, The friendly damsels to a youth consigned, Who led him at a slower pace behind.

LXXVII That kindly pair who, by the wicked band Offended fate, had saved the youthful knight; The wicked crew, that did the Child withstand, When he the road had taken on his right, Exclaimed, "Fair sir, your works already scanned By us, who are instructed of your might, Embolden us, in our behalf, to pray You will the prowess of your arm assay.

LXXVIII "We soon shall reach a bottom which divides The plain into two parts: A cruel dame A bridge maintains, which there a stream bestrides, Eriphila the savage beldam's name; Who cheats, and robs, and scathes, whoever rides To the other shore, a giantess in frame; Who has long poisonous teeth her prey to tear, And scratches with her talons like a bear.

LXXIX "Besides that she infests the public way, Which else were free; she often ranging through All this fair garden, puts in disarray This thing or that. Of the assassin crew, That people who without the portal gay, Lately with brutal rage assaulted you, Many her sons, the whole her followers call, As greedy and inhospitable all."

LXXX "For you not only her I would assail, But do a hundred battles, well content: Then of my person, where it may avail, Dispose (Rogero said) to you intent. Silver and land to conquer, plate or mail I swear not, I, in warlike cuirass pent; But to afford my aid to others due; And, most of all, to beauteous dames like you."

LXXXI Their grateful thanks the ladies, worthily Bestowed on such a valiant champion, paid: They talking thus the bridge and river see, And at her post the haughty dame arraid (Sapphire and emerald decked the panoply) In arms of gold: but I awhile delay Till other strain the issue of the fray.

Canto 7

ARGUMENT Rogero, as directed by the pair, The giantess Eriphila o'erthrows. That done, he to Alcina's labyrinth, where More than one knight is tied and prisoned, goes. To him Melissa sage the secret snare, And remedy for that grave evil shows. Whence he, by her advised, with downcast eye, And full of shame forthwith resolves to fly.

I The traveller, he, whom sea or mountain sunder From his own country, sees things strange and new; That the misjudging vulgar, which lies under The mist of ignorance, esteems untrue: Rejecting whatsoever is a wonder, Unless 'tis palpable and plain to view: Hence inexperience, as I know full well, Will yield small credence to the tale I tell.

II But this be great or small, I know not why The rabble's silly judgement I should fear, Convinced you will not think the tale a lie, In whom the light of reason shines so clear. And hence to you it is I only try The fruit of my fatigues to render dear. I ended where Eriphila in guard Of bridge and stream was seen, the passage barred.

III Of finest metal was her armour bright, With gems of many colours overspread, The tawny jacinth, yellow chyrsolite, The emerald green of hue, and ruby red. Mounted, but not on palfrey, for the fight: In place of that, she on a wolf had sped, Sped on a wolf towards the pass; and rode On sell, that rich beyond all custom showed.

IV No larger wolf, I ween, Apulia roams; More huge than bull, unguided by her hand; Although upon no bit the monster foams, Docile, I know not why, to her command. The accursed Plague, arrayed in surcoat, comes Above her arms, in colour like the sand; That, saving in its dye, was of the sort Which bishops and which prelates wear at court.

V The giantess's crest and shield appear, For ensign, decked with swoln and poisonous toad. Her the two damsels to the cavalier Before the bridge, prepared for battle, showed, Threatening, as wont to some, with levelled spear, To do the warrior scorn and bar the road. Bidding him turn, she to Rogero cries; A lance he takes, and threats her and defies.

VI As quick and daring, the gigantic Pest Spurred her wolf, seated well for that dread game: In mid career she laid her lance in rest, And made earth quake beneath her as she came; Yet at the encounter fierce the champaign pressed; For underneath the casque, with stedfast aim, So hard Rogero smote her, that he bore The beldam backward six good yards and more:

VII And came already with his lifted blade, Drawn for that end, to take her haughty head; To him an easy task; for she was laid Among the grass and flowers, like one that's dead. But, " 'Tis enough that she is vanquished," said The pair, "No further press thy vengeance dread. Sheathe, courteous cavalier, thy sword anew: Pass we the river, and our way pursue."

VIII Along the path, which through a forest lay, Roughish and somedeal ill to beat, they went. Besides that strait and stony was the way, This, nigh directly, scaled a hill's ascent. But, when arrived upon the summit, they Issued upon a mead of vast extent; And a more pleasant palace on that green Beheld, and brighter than was ever seen.

IX To meet the Child, Alcina, fair of hue, Advanced some way beyond the outer gate; And, girded by a gay and courtly crew, Rogero there received in lordly state: While all the rest to him such honour do, And on the knight with such deep reverence wait, They could not have displayed more zeal and love, Had Jove descended from the choirs above.

X Not so much does the palace, fair to see, In riches other princely domes excel, As that the gentlest, fairest, company Which the whole world contains, within it dwell: Of either sex, with small variety Between, in youth and beauty matched as well: The fay alone exceeds the rest as far As the bright sun outshines each lesser star.

XI Her shape is of such perfect symmetry, As best to feign the industrious painter knows, With long and knotted tresses; to the eye Not yellow gold with brighter lustre glows. Upon her tender cheek the mingled dye Is scattered, of the lily and the rose. Like ivory smooth, the forehead gay and round Fills up the space, and forms a fitting bound.

XII Two black and slender arches rise above Two clear black eyes, say suns of radiant light, Which ever softly beam and slowly move; Round these appears to sport in frolic flight, Hence scattering all his shafts, the little Love, And seems to plunder hearts in open sight. Thence, through mid visage, does the nose descend, Where Envy finds not blemish to amend.

XIII As if between two vales, which softly curl, The mouth with vermeil tint is seen to glow: Within are strung two rows of orient pearl, Which her delicious lips shut up or show. Of force to melt the heart of any churl, However rude, hence courteous accents flow: And here that gentle smile receives its birth, Which opes at will a paradise on earth.

XIV Like milk the bosom, and the neck of snow; Round is the neck, and full and large the breast; Where, fresh and firm, two ivory apples grow, Which rise and fall, as, to the margin pressed By pleasant breeze, the billows come and go. Not prying Argus could discern the rest. Yet might the observing eye of things concealed Conjecture safely, from the charms revealed.

XV To all her arms a just proportion bear, And a white hand is oftentimes descried, Which narrow is, and somedeal long; and where No knot appears, nor vein is signified. For finish of that stately shape and rare, A foot, neat, short, and round, beneath is spied. Angelic visions, creatures of the sky, Concealed beneath no covering veil can lie.

XVI A springe is planted in Rogero's way, On all sides did she speak, smile, sing, or move; No wonder then the stripling was her prey, Who in the fairy saw such show of love. With him the guilt and falsehood little weigh, Of which the offended myrtle told above. Nor will he think that perfidy and guile Can be united with so sweet a smile.

XVII No! he could now believe, by magic art, Astolpho well transformed upon the plain, For punishment of foul ungrateful heart, And haply meriting severer pain. And, as for all he heard him late impart, 'Twas prompted by revenge, 'twas false and vain. By hate and malice was the sufferer stung, To blame and wound the fay with slanderous tongue.

XVIII The beauteous lady whom he loved so well Is newly banished from his altered breast; For (such the magic of Alcina's spell) She every ancient passion dispossessed; And in his bosom, there alone to dwell, The image of her love, and self impressed. So witched, Rogero sure some grace deserves, If from his faith his frail affection swerves.

XIX At board lyre, lute and harp of tuneful string, And other sounds, in mixed diversity, Made, round about, the joyous palace ring, With glorious concert and sweet harmony. Nor lacked there well-accorded voice to sing Of love, its passion and its ecstasy; Nor who, with rare inventions, choicely versed, Delightful fiction to the guests rehearsed.

XX What table, spread by whatsoever heir Of Ninus, though triumphant were the board, Or what more famous and more costly, where Cleopatra feasted with the Latian lord, Could with this banquet's matchless joys compare, By the fond fairy for Rogero stored? I think not such a feast is spread above, Where Ganymede presents the cup to Jove.

XXI They form a ring, the board and festive cheer Removed, and sitting, play a merry game: Each asks, still whispering in a neighbour's ear, What secret pleases best; to knight and dame A fair occasion, without let or fear, Their love, unheard of any, to proclaim. And in conclusion the two lovers plight Their word, to meet together on that night.

XXII Soon, and much sooner than their wont, was ended The game at which the palace inmates play: When pages on the troop with torches tended, And with their radiance chased the night away. To seek his bed the paladin ascended, Girt with that goodly squadron, in a gay And airy bower, appointed for his rest, Mid all the others chosen as the best.

XXIII And when of comfits and of cordial wine A fitting proffer has been made anew, The guests their bodies reverently incline, And to their bowers depart the courtly crew. He upon perfumed sheets, whose texture fine Seemed of Arachne's loom, his body threw: Hearkening this while with still attentive ears, If he the coming of the lady hears.

XXIV At every movement heard on distant floor, Hoping 'twas her, Rogero raised his head: He thinks he hears; but it is heard no more, Then sighs at his mistake: ofttimes from bed He issued, and undid his chamber door, And peeped abroad, but still no better sped; And cursed a thousand times the hour that she So long retarded his felicity.

XXV "Yes, now she comes," the stripling often said, And reckoned up the paces, as he lay, Which from her bower where haply to be made To that where he was waiting for the fay. These thoughts, and other thoughts as vain, he weighed Before she came, and restless at her stay, Often believed some hinderance, yet unscanned, Might interpose between the fruit and hand.

XXVI At length, when dropping sweets the costly fay Had put some end to her perfumery, The time now come she need no more delay, Since all was hushed within the palace, she Stole from her bower alone, through secret way, And passed towards the chamber silently, Where on his couch the youthful cavalier Lay, with a heart long torn by Hope and Fear.

XXVII When the successor of Astolpho spies Those smiling stars above him, at the sight A flame, like that of kindled sulphur, flies Through his full veins, as ravished by delight Out of himself; and now up to the eyes Plunged in a sea of bliss, he swims outright. He leaps from bed and folds her to his breast, Nor waits until the lady he undressed;

XXVIII Though but in a light sendal clad, that she Wore in the place of farthingale or gown; Which o'er a shift of finest quality, And white, about her limbs the fay had thrown: The mantle yielded at his touch, as he Embraced her, and that veil remained alone, Which upon every side the damsel shows, More than clear glass the lily or the rose.

XXIX The plant no closer does the ivy clip, With whose green boughs its stem is interlaced. Than those fond lovers, each from either's lip The balmy breath collecting, he embraced: Rich perfume this, whose like no seed or slip Bears in sweet Indian or Sabacan waste; While so to speak their joys is either fixed, That oftentimes those meeting lips are mixed.

XXX These things were carried closely by the dame And youth, or if surmised, were never bruited; For silence seldom was a cause for blame, But oftener as a virtue well reputed. By those shrewd courtiers, conscious of his claim, Rogero is with proffers fair saluted: Worshipped of all those inmates, who fulfil In this the enamoured far, Alcina's will.

XXXI No pleasure is omitted there; since they Alike are prisoners in Love's magic hall. They change their raiment twice or thrice a day, Now for this use, and now at other call. 'Tis often feast, and always holiday; 'Tis wrestling, tourney, pageant, bath, and ball. Now underneath a hill by fountain cast, They read the amorous lays of ages past:

XXXII Now by glad hill, or through the shady dale, They hunt the fearful hare, and now they flush With busy dog, sagacious of the trail, Wild pheasant from the stubble-field or bush. Now where green junipers perfume the gale, Suspend the snare, or lime the fluttering thrush: And casting now for fish, with net or book, Disturb their secret haunts in pleasant brook.

XXXIII Rogero revels there, in like delight, While Charles and Agramant are troubled sore. But not for him their story will I slight, Nor Bradamant forget: who evermore, Mid toilsome pain and care, her cherished knight, Ravished from her, did many a day deplore; Whom by unwonted ways, transported through Mid air, the damsel saw, nor whither knew.

XXXIV Of her I speak before the royal pair, Who many days pursued her search in vain; By shadowy wood, or over champaign bare, By farm and city, and by hill and plain; But seeks her cherished friend with fruitless care, Divided by such space of land and main: Often she goes among the Paynim spears, Yet never aught of her Rogero hears.

XXXV Of hundreds questioned, upon every side, Each day, no answer ever gives content. She roams from post to post, and far and wide Searches pavilion, lodging, booth, or rent, And this, mid foot or horsemen, unespied, May safely do, without impediment, Thanks to the ring, whose more than mortal aid, When in her mouth, conceals the vanished maid.

XXXVI She cannot, will not, think that he is dead; Because the wreck of such a noble knight Would, from Hydaspes' distant waves have spread, To where the sun descends with westering light. She knows not what to think, nor whither sped, He roams in earth or air; yet, hapless wight, Him ever seeks, and for attendant train Has sobs and sighs, and every bitter pain.

XXXVII At length to find the wondrous cave she thought, Where the prophetic homes of Merlin lie, And there lament herself until she wrought Upon the pitying marble to reply; For thence, if yet he lived would she be taught, Of this glad life to hard necessity Had yielded up; and, when she was possessed Of the seer's councils, would pursue the best.

XXXVIII With this intention, Bradamant her way Directed thither, where in Poictier's wood The vocal tomb, containing Merlin's clay, Concealed in Alpine place and savage, stood. But that enchantress sage, who night and day Thought of the damsel, watchful for her good, She, I repeat, who taught her what should be In that fair grotto her posterity;

XXXIX She who preserved her with protecting care, That same enchantress, still benign and wise, Who, knowing she a matchless race should bear Of men, or rather semi-deities, Spies daily what her thoughts and actions are, And lots for her each day, divining, tries; -- She all Rogero's fortune knew, how freed; Then borne to India by the griffin steed:

XL Him on that courser plainly she had eyed, Who would not the controlling rein obey; When, severed by such interval, he hied, Borne through the perilous, unwonted way: And knew that he sport, dance, and banquet plied, And lapt in idleness and pleasure lay; Nor memory of his lord nor of the dame, Once loved so well, preserved, not of his fame.

XLI And thus such gentle knight ingloriously Would have consumed his fairest years and best, In long inaction, afterwards to be, Body and soul, destroyed; and that, possessed Alone by us in perpetuity. That flower, whose sweets outlive the fragile rest Which quickens man when he in earth is laid, Would have been plucked or severed in the blade.

XLII But that enchantress kind, who with more care Than for himself he watched, still kept the knight, Designed to drag him, by rough road and bare, Towards true virtue, in his own despite; As often cunning leech will burn and pare The flesh, and poisonous drug employ aright: Who, though at first his cruel art offend, Is thanked, since he preserves us in the end.

XLIII She, not like old Atlantes, rendered blind By the great love she to the stripling bore, Set not on gifting him with life her mind, As was the scope of that enchanter hoar; Who, reckless all of fame and praise declined, Wished length of days to his Rogero more Than that, to win a world's applause, the peer Should of his joyous life forego one year.

XLIV By him he to Alcina's isle had been Dispatched, that in her palace he might dwell, Forgetting arms; and, as enchanter seen In magic and the use of every spell, The heart had fastened of that fairy-queen, Enamoured of the gentle youth, so well, That she the knot would never disengage, Though he should live to more than Nestor's age.

XLV Returning now to her that well foreknew Whatever was to come to pass, I say She thither did her journey straight pursue, Where she met Aymon's daughter by the way Forlorn and wandering: Bradamant at view Of her enchantress, erst to grief a prey, Changes it all to hope: the other tells That with Alcina her Rogero dwells.

XLVI Nigh dead the maid remains, in piteous guise, Hearing of him so far removed, and more Grieves that she danger to her love descries, Save this some strong and speedy cure restore. But her the enchantress comforts, and applies A salve where it was needed most, and swore That few short days should pass before anew Rogero should return to glad her view.

XLVII "Since thou, an antidote to sorcery, Lady (she said), the virtuous ring dost wear, I have no doubt if to yon island I This, where thine every good is hidden, hear, To foil Alcina's wiles and witchery, And thence to bring thee back thy cherished care. This evening, early, will I hence away, And be in India by the break of day."

XLVIII And told to her, the tale continuing, The mode which she was purposing to employ, From that effeminate, soft realm to bring Back into warlike France the cherished boy. Bradamant from her finger slipt the ring, Nor this alone would have bestowed with joy; But heart and life would at her feet have laid, If she had deemed they could Rogero aid.

XLIX Giving the ring, her cause she recommends To her, and recommends Rogero more. Countless salutes by her the damsel sends, Then of Provence, departing seeks the shore. The enchantress to another quarter wends; And, for the execution of her lore, Conjures, that eve, a palfrey, by her art, With one foot red, black every other part.

L Some Farfarello, or Alchino he, I think, whom in that form she raised from hell; And with loose hair, dishevelled horribly, Ungirt and barefoot, mounted in the sell. But, with wise caution, from her finger she Withdrew the ring, lest it should mar the spell: And then by him was with such swiftness born, She in Alcina's isle arrived at morn.

LI Herself she changed with wonderful disguise, Adding a palm of stature to her height; And made her limbs of a proportioned size; And of the very measure seemed to sight, As was she deemed, the necromancer wise, Who with such care had reared the youthful knight. With long-descending beard she clothed her chin, And wrinkled o'er her front and other skin.

LII To imitate his speech, and face, and cheer, She knew so well, that, by the youth descried, She might the sage Atlantes' self appear; Next hid, and watched so long, that she espied Upon a day (rare chance) the cavalier At length detached from his Alcina's side: For still, in motion or at rest, the fay Ill bore the youth should be an hour away.

LIII Alone she finds him, fitting well her will, As he enjoys the pure and morning air Beside a brook, which trickled from a hill, Streaming towards a limpid lake and fair. His fine, soft garments, wove with cunning skill, All over, ease and wantonness declare; These with her hand, such subtle toil well taught, For him in silk and gold Alcina wrought.

LIV About the stripling's neck, a splendid string Of gems, descending to mid-breast, is wound; On each once manly arm, now glittering With the bright hoop, a bracelet fair is bound. Pierced with golden wire, in form of ring, Is either ear; and from the yellow round Depend two precious pearls; not such the coast Of Araby or sumptuous India boast.

LV Crisped into comely ringlets was his hair, Wet with the costliest odours and the best; And soft and amorous all his gestures were, Like one who does Valentian lady's hest. In him, beside his name, was nothing fair, And more than half corrupted all the rest. So was Rogero found, within that dell, Changed from his former self by potent spell.

LVI Him in the figure of Atlantes sage She fronts, who bore the enchanter's borrowed cheer; With that grave face, and reverend with age, Which he was always wonted to revere; And with that eye, which in his pupillage, Beaming with wrath, he whilom so did fear. And sternly cries, "Is this the fruit at last Which pays my tedious pain and labour past?

LVII "The marrow of the lion and the bear Didst thou for this thine early banquet make, And, trained by me, by cliff or cavern-lair, Strangle with infant hands the crested snake; Their claws from tiger and from panther tear, And tusks from living boar in tangled brake, That, bred in such a school, in thee should I Alcina's Atys or Adonis spy?

LVIII "Is this the hope that stars, observed by me, Signs in conjunction, sacred fibres, bred; With what beside of dream or augury, And all those lots I but too deeply read, Which, while yet hanging at the breast, of thee, When these thy years should be accomplished, said, Thy fears should so be bruited far and near, Thou justly should be deemed without a peer?

LIX "This does, in truth, a fair beginning show; A seed which, we may hope, will soon conceive A Julius, Alexander, Scipio. Who thee Alcina's bondsman could believe; And (for the world the shameful fact might know) That all should, manifest to sight, perceive Upon thy neck and arms the servile chains, Wherewith she at her will her captive trains?

LX "If thine own single honour move not thee, And the high deeds which thou art called to do, Wherefore defraud thy fair posterity Of what, was oft predicted, should ensue? Alas! why seal the womb God willed should be Pregnant by thee with an illustrious crew, That far renowned, and more than human line, Destined the sun in glory to outshine?

LXI "Forbid not of the noblest souls the birth, Formed in the ideas of Eternal Mind, Destined, from age to age, to visit earth, Sprung from thy stock, and clothed in corporal rind; The spring of thousand palms and festal mirth, Through which, to Italy with losses pined And wounds, thy good descendants shall restore The fame and honours she enjoyed of yore.

LXII "Not only should these many souls have weight To bend thy purpose, holy souls, and bright, Which from thy fruitful tree shall vegetate; But, though alone, a single couple might Suffice a nobler feeling to create, Alphonso and his brother Hyppolite: Whose like was seldom witnessed to this time, Through all the paths whence men to virtue climb.

LXIII "I was more wont to dwell upon this pair Than all the rest, of whom I prophesied; As well that these a greater part should bear In lofty virtues, as that I descried Thee, listening to my lore with closer care, Than to the tale of all thy seed beside. I saw thee joy that such a pair would shine Amid the heroes of thy noble line.

LXIV "Say, what has she, thou makest thy fancy's queen, More than what other courtezans possess? Who of so many concubine has been; How used her lovers in the end to bless, Thou truly know'st: but that she may be seen Without disguise, and in her real dress, This ring, returning, on thy finger wear, And thou shalt see the dame, and mark how fair."

LXV Abashed and mute, Rogero, listening, In vain to her reproof an answer sought: Who on his little finger put the ring, Whose virtue to himself the warrior brought. And such remorse and shame within him spring, When on his altered sense the change is wrought, A thousand fathoms deep he fain would lie Buried in earth, unseen of any eye.

LXVI So speaking, to the natural shape she wore Before his eyes returned the magic dame; Nor old Atlantes' form was needed more, The good effect obtained for which she came. To tell you that which was not told before, Melissa was the sage enchantress' name: Who to Rogero now her purpose said, And told with what design she thither sped:

LXVII Dispatched by her, who him in anxious pain Desires, nor longer can without him be, With the intent to loose him from the chain Wherewith he was begirt by sorcery; And had put on, more credence to obtain, Atlantes de Carena's form; but she, Seeing his health restored, now willed the youth, Through her should hear and see the very truth.

LXVIII "That gentle lady who so loves thee, who Were well deserving love upon thy part; To whom (unless forgot, thou know'st how true The tale) thou debtor for thy freedom art, This ring, which can each magic spell undo, Sends for thy succour, and would send her heart, If with such virtue fraught, her heart could bring Thee safely in thy perils, like the ring."

LXIX How Bradamant had loved, and loves, she says, Continuing to Rogero her relation; To this, her worth commends with fitting praise, Tempering in truth and fondness her narration; And still employs the choicest mode and phrase, Which fits one skilful in negociation, And on the false Alcina brings such hate, As on things horrible is wont to wait;

LXX Brings hate on that which he so loved before; Nor let the tale astonish which you hear, For since his love was forced by magic lore, The ring the false enchantment served to clear. This too unmasked the charms Alcina wore, And made all false, from head to food, appear. None of her own, but borrowed, all he sees, And the once sparkling cup now drugged with lees.

LXXI Like boy who somewhere his ripe fruit bestows, And next forgets the place where it is laid, Then, after many days, conducted goes By chance, where he the rich deposit made, And wonders that the hidden treasure shows, Not what it is, but rotten and decayed; And hates, and scorns, and loathes, with altered eyes, And throws away what he was used to prize.

LXXII Rogero thus, when by Melissa's lore Advised, he to behold the fay returned, And that good ring of sovereign virtue wore, Which, on the finger placed, all spells o'erturned; For that fair damsel he had left before, To his surprise, so foul a dame discerned, That in this ample world, examined round, A hag so old and hideous is not found.

LXXIII Pale, lean, and wrinkled was the face, and white, And thinly clothed with hair Alcina's head; Her stature reached not to six palms in height, And every tooth was gone; for she had led A longer life than ever mortal wight, Than Hecuba or she in Cuma bred; But thus by practice, to our age unknown, Appeared with youth and beauty not her own.

LXXIV By art she gave herself the lovely look, Which had on many like Rogero wrought; But now the ring interpreted the book, Which secrets, hid for many ages, taught. No wonder then that he the dame forsook, And banished from his mind all further thought Of love for false Alcina, found in guise Which no new means of slippery fraud supplies.

LXXV But, as Melissa counselled him, he wore His wonted semblance for a time, till he Was with his armour, many days before Laid by, again accoutred cap-a-pee. And, lest Alcina should his end explore, Feigned to make proof of his agility; Feigned to make proof if for his arms he were Too gross, long time unwont the mail to bear.

LXXVI Next Balisarda to his flank he tied (For so Rogero's trenchant sword was hight), And took the wondrous buckler, which, espied, Not only dazzled the beholder's sight, But seemed, when its silk veil was drawn aside, As from the body if exhaled the sprite: In its close cover of red sendal hung, This at his neck the youthful warrior slung.

LXXVII Provided thus, he to the stables came, And bade with bridle and with saddle dight A horse more black than pitch; for so the dame Counselled, well-taught how swift the steed and light. Him Rabicano those who know him name, And he the courser was, that with the knight, Who stands beside the sea, the breeze's sport, The whale of yore conducted to that port.

LXXVIII The hippogryph he might have had at need, Who next below good Rabican was tied, But that the dame had cried to him, "Take heed, Thou know'st how ill that courser is to ride"; And said the following day the winged steed 'Twas her intention from that realm to guide, Where he should be instructed at his leisure, To rein and run him every where at pleasure:

LXXIX Nor, if he took him not, would he suggest Suspicion of the intended flight: The peer This while performed Melissa's every hest, Who, still invisible, was at his ear. So feigning, from the wanton dome possessed By that old strumpet, rode the cavalier; And pricking forth drew near unto a gate, Whence the road led to Logistilla's state.

LXXX Assaulting suddenly the guardian crew, He, sword in hand, the squadron set upon; This one he wounded, and that other slew, And, point by point made good, the drawbridge won: And ere of his escape Alcina knew, The gentle youth was far away and gone. My next shall tell his route, and how he gained At last the realm where Logistilla reigned.

Canto 8

ARGUMENT Rogero flies; Astolpho with the rest, To their true shape Melissa does restore; Rinaldo levies knights and squadrons, pressed In aid of Charles assaulted by the Moor: Angelica, by ruffians found at rest, Is offered to a monster on the shore. Orlando, warned in visions of his ill, Departs from Paris sore against his will.

I How many enchantresses among us! oh, How many enchanters are there, though unknown! Who for their love make man or woman glow, Changing them into figures not their own. Nor this by help of spirits from below, Nor observation of the stars is done: But these on hearts with fraud and falsehood plot, Binding them with indissoluble knot.

II Who with Angelica's, or rather who Were fortified with Reason's ring, would see Each countenance, exposed to open view, Unchanged by art or by hypocrisy. This now seems fair and good, whose borrowed hue Removed, would haply foul and evil be. Well was it for Rogero that he wore The virtuous ring which served the truth to explore!

III Rogero, still dissembling, as I said, Armed, to the gate on Rabican did ride; Found the guard unprepared, not let his blade, Amid that crowd, hang idle at his side: He passed the bridge, and broke the palisade, Some slain, some maimed; then t'wards the forest hied; But on that road small space had measured yet, When he a servant of the fairy met.

IV He on his fist a ravening falcon bore, Which he made fly for pastime every day; Now on the champaign, now upon the shore Of neighbouring pool, which teemed with certain prey; And rode a hack which simple housings wore, His faithful dog, companion of his way. He, marking well the haste with which he hies, Conjectures truly what Rogero flies.

V Towards him came the knave, with semblance haught, Demanding whither in such haste he sped: To him the good Rogero answers naught. He hence assured more clearly that he fled, Within himself to stop the warrior thought, And thus, with his left arm extended, said: "What, if I suddenly thy purpose balk, And thou find no defence against this hawk?"

VI Then flies his bird, who works so well his wing, Rabican cannot distance him in flight: The falconer from his back to ground did spring, And freed him from the bit which held him tight; Who seemed an arrow parted from the string, And terrible to foe, with kick and bite; While with such haste behind the servant came, He sped as moved by wind, or rather flame.

VII Nor will the falconer's dog appear more slow; But hunts Rogero's courser, as in chace Of timid hare the pard is wont to go. Not to stand fast the warrior deems disgrace, And turns towards the swiftly-footed foe, Whom he sees wield a riding-wand, place Of other arms, to make his dog obey. Rogero scorns his faulchion to display.

VIII The servant made at him, and smote him sore; The dog his left foot worried; while untied From rein, the lightened horse three times and more Lashed from the croup, nor missed his better side. The hawk, oft wheeling, with her talons tore The stripling, and his horse so terrified, The courser, by the whizzing sound dismayed, Little the guiding hand or spur obeyed.

IX Constrained at length, his sword Rogero drew To clear the rabble, who his course delay; And in the animals' or villain's view Did now its point, and now its edge display. But with more hinderance and vexatious crew Swarm here and there, and wholly block the way; And that dishonour will ensue and loss, Rogero sees, if him they longer cross.

X He knew each little that he longer stayed, Would bring the fay and followers on the trail; Already drums were beat, and trumpets brayed, And larum-bells rang loud in every vale. An act too foul it seemed to use his blade On dog, and knave unfenced with arms or mail: A better and shorter way it were The buckler, old Atlantes' work, to bare.

XI He raised the crimson cloth in which he wore The wondrous shield, enclosed for many a day; Its beams, as proved a thousand times before, Work as they wont, when on the sight they play; Senseless the falconer tumbles on the moor; Drop dog and hackney; drop the pinions gay, Which poised in air the bird no longer keep: Then glad Rogero leaves a prey to sleep.

XII In the mean time, Alcina, who had heard How he had forced the gate, and, in the press, Slaughtered a mighty number of her guard, Remained nigh dead, o'erwhelmed with her distress; She tore her vesture, and her visage marred, And cursed her want of wit and wariness. Then made forthwith her meiny sound to arms, And round herself arrayed her martial swarms.

XIII Divided next, one squadron by the way Rogero took, she sent; the bands were two: She at the port embarked the next array, And straight to sea dispatched the warlike crew. With this good squadron went the desperate fay, And darked by loosened sails the billows grew; For so desire upon her bosom preyed, Of troops she left her city unpurveyed.

XIV Without a guard she left her palace there, Which to Melissa, prompt her time to seize, To loose her vassals that in misery were, Afforded all convenience and full ease; -- To range, at leisure, through the palace fair, And so examine all her witcheries; To raze the seal, burn images, and loose Or cancel hag-knot, rhomb, or magic noose.

XV Thence, through the fields, fast hurrying from that dome, The former lovers changed, a mighty train, Some into rock or tree, to fountain some, Or beast, she made assume their shapes again: And these, when they anew are free to roam, Follow Rogero's footsteps to the reign Of Logistilla's sage; and from that bourn To Scythia, Persia, Greece, and Ind return.

XVI They to their several homes dispatched, repair, Bound by a debt which never can be paid: The English duke, above the rest her care, Of these, was first in human form arrayed: For much his kindred and the courteous prayer Of good Rogero with Melissa weighed. Beside his prayers, the ring Rogero gave; That him she by its aid might better save.

XVII Thus by Rogero's suit the enchantress won, To his first shape transformed the youthful peer; But good Melissa deemed that nought was done Save she restored his armour, and that spear Of gold, which whensoe'er at tilt he run, At the first touch unseated cavalier; Once Argalia's, next Astolpho's lance, And source of mighty fame to both in France.

XVIII The sage Melissa found this spear of gold, Which now Alcina's magic palace graced, And other armour of the warrior bold, Of which he was in that ill dome uncased. She climbed the courser of the wizard old, And on the croup, at ease, Astolpho placed: And thus, an hour before Rogero came, Repaired to Logistilla, knight and dame.

XIX Meantime, through rugged rocks, and shagged with thorn, Rogero wends, to seek the sober fay; From cliff to cliff, from path to path forlorn, A rugged, lone, inhospitable way: Till he, with labour huge oppressed and worn, Issued at noon upon a beach, that lay 'Twixt sea and mountain, open to the south, Deserted, barren, bare, and parched with drouth.

XX The sunbeams on the neighbouring mountain beat And glare, reflected from the glowing mass So fiercely, sand and air both boil with heat, In mode that might have more than melted glass. The birds are silent in their dim retreat, Nor any note is heard in wood or grass, Save the bough perched Cicala's wearying cry, Which deafens hill and dale, and sea and sky.

XXI The heat and thirst and labour which he bore By that drear sandy way beside the sea, Along the unhabited and sunny shore, Were to Rogero grievous company: Bur for I may not still pursue this lore, Nor should you busied with one matter be, Rogero I abandon in this heat, For Scotland; to pursue Rinaldo's beat.

XXII By king, by daughter, and by all degrees, To Sir Rinaldo was large welcome paid; And next the warrior, at his better ease, The occasion of his embassy displayed: That he from thence and England, subsidies Of men was seeking, for his monarch's aid, In Charles's name; and added, in his care, The justest reasons to support his prayer.

XXIII The king made answer, that `without delay, Taxed to the utmost of his powers and might, His means at Charlemagne's disposal lay, For the honour of the empire and the right. And that, within few days, he in array Such horsemen, as he had in arms, would dight; And, save that he was now waxed old, would lead The expedition he was prayed to speed.

XXIV `Nor like consideration would appear Worthy to stop him, but that he possessed A son, and for such charge that cavalier, Measured by wit and force, was worthiest. Though not within the kingdom was the peer, It was his hope (as he assured his guest) He would, while yet preparing was the band, Return, and find it mustered to his hand.'

XXV So sent through all his realm, with expedition, His treasures, to levy men and steeds; And ships prepared, and warlike ammunition, And money, stores and victual for their needs. Meantime the good Rinaldo on his mission, Leaving the courteous king, to England speeds; He brought him on his way to Berwick's town, And was observed to weep when he was gone.

XXVI The wind sat in the poop; Rinaldo good Embarked and bade farewell to all; the sheet Still loosening to the breeze, the skipper stood, Till where Thames' waters, waxing bitter, meet Salt ocean: wafted thence by tide of flood, Through a sure channel to fair London's seat, Safely the mariners their course explore, Making their way, with aid of sail and oar.

XXVII The Emperor Charles, and he, King Otho grave, Who was with Charles, by siege in Paris pressed, A broad commission to Rinaldo brave, With letters to the Prince of Wales addressed, And countersigns had given, dispatched to crave What foot and horse were by the land possessed. The whole to be to Calais' port conveyed; That it to France and Charles might furnish aid.

XXVIII The prince I speak of, who on Otho's throne Sate in his stead, the vacant helm to guide, Such honor did to Aymon's valiant son, He not with such his king had gratified. Next, all to good Rinaldo's wish, was done: Since for his martial bands on every side, In Britain, or the isles which round her lay, To assemble near the sea he fixed a day.

XXIX But here, sir, it behoves me shift my ground, Like him that makes the sprightly viol ring, Who often changes chord and varies sound, And now a graver strikes, now sharper string: Thus I: -- who did to good Rinaldo bound My tale, Angelica remembering; Late left, where saved from him by hasty flight, She had encountered with an anchorite.

XXX Awhile I will pursue her story: I Told how the maid of him with earnest care, Enquired, how she towards the shore might fly: Who of the loathed Rinaldo has such fear, She dreads, unless she pass the sea, to die, As insecure in Europe, far or near, But she was by the hermit kept in play, Because he pleasure took with her to stay.

XXXI His heart with love of that rare beauty glowed, And to his frozen marrow pierced the heat; Who, after, when he saw that she bestowed Small care on him, and thought but of retreat, His sluggish courser stung with many a goad; But with no better speed he plied his feet. Ill was his walk, and worse his trot; nor spur Could that dull beast to quicker motion stir:

XXXII And for the flying maid was far before, And he would soon have ceased to track her steed, To the dark cave recurred the hermit hoar, And conjured up of fiends a grisly breed: One he selected out of many more, And first informed the demon of his need; Then in the palfrey bade him play his part, Who with the lady bore away his heart:

XXXIII And as sagacious dog on mountain tried Before, accustomed fox and hare to chase, If he behold the quarry choose one side, The other takes, and seems to slight the trace: But at the turn arriving, is espied, Already tearing what he crossed to face; So her the hermit by a different road Will meet, wherever she her palfrey goad.

XXXIV What was the friar's design I well surmise; And you shall know; but in another page. Angelica now slow, now faster, flies, Nought fearing this: while conjured by the sage, The demon covered in the courser lies; As fire sometimes will hide its smothered rage: Then blazes with devouring flame and heat, Unquenchable, and scarce allows retreat.

XXXV After the flying maid had shaped her course By the great sea which laves the Gascon shore, Still keeping to the rippling waves her horse, Where best the moistened sand the palfrey bore, Him, plunged into the brine, the fiend perforce Dragged, till he swam amid the watery roar. Nor what to do the timid damsel knew, Save that she closer to her saddle grew.

XXXVI She cannot, howsoe'er the rein she ply, Govern the horse, who swims the surge to meet: Her raiment she collects and holds it high; And, not to wet them, gathers up her feet. Her tresses, which the breeze still wantonly Assaults, dishevelled on her shoulders beat. The louder winds are hushed, perchance in duty, Intent, like ocean, on such sovereign beauty.

XXXVII Landward in vain her eyes the damsel bright Directs, which water face and breast with tears, And ever sees, decreasing to her sight, The beach she left, which less and less appears. The courser, who was swimming to the right, After a mighty sweep, the lady bears To shore, where rock and cavern shag the brink, As night upon the land begins to sink.

XXXVIII When in that desert, which but to descry Bred fear in the beholder, stood the maid Alone, as Phoebus, plunged in ocean, sky And nether earth had left obscured in shade; She paused in guise, which in uncertainty Might leave whoever had the form surveyed, If she were real woman, or some mock Resemblance, coloured in the living rock.

XXXIX She, fixed and stupid in her wretchedness, Stood on the shifting sand, with ruffled hair: Her hands were joined, her lips were motionless, Her languid eyes upturned, as in despair, Accusing Him on high, that to distress And whelm her, all the fates united were. Astound she stood awhile; when grief found vent Through eyes and tongue, in tears and in lament.

XL "Fortune what more remains, that thou on me Shouldst not now satiate thy revengeful thirst? What more (she said) can I bestow on thee Than, what thou seekest not, this life accurst? Thou wast in haste to snatch me from the sea, Where I had ended its sad days, immersed; Because to torture me with further ill Before I die, is yet thy cruel will.

XLI "But what worse torment yet remains in store Beyond, I am unable to descry: By thee from my fair throne, which nevermore I hope to repossess, compelled to fly; I, what is worse, my honour lost deplore; For if I sinned not in effect, yet I Give matter by my wanderings to be stung For wantonness of every carping tongue.

XLII "What other good is left to woman, who Has lost her honour, in this earthly ball? What profits it that, whether false or true, I am deemed beauteous, and am young withal? No thanks to heaven for such a gift are due, Whence on my head does every mischief fall. For this my brother Argalia died; To whom small help enchanted arms supplied:

XLIII "For this the Tartar king, Sir Agrican, Subdued my sire, who Galaphron was hight, And of Catay in India was great khan; 'Tis hence I am reduced to such a plight, That wandering evermore, I cannot scan At morn, where I shall lay my head at night. If thou hast ravished what thou couldst, wealth, friends, And honour; say what more thy wrath intends.

XLIV "If death by drowning in the foaming sea Was not enough thy wrath to satiate, Send, if thou wilt, some beast to swallow me, So that he keep me not in pain! Thy hate Cannot devise a torment, so it be My death, but I shall thank thee for my fate!" Thus, with loud sobs, the weeping lady cried, When she beheld the hermit at her side.

XLV From the extremest height the hermit hoar Of that high rock above her, had surveyed Angelica, arrived upon the shore, Beneath the cliff, afflicted and dismayed. He to that place had come six days before; For him by path untrod had fiend conveyed: And he approached her, feigning such a call As e'er Hilarion might have had, or Paul.

XLVI When him, yet unagnized, she saw appear, The lady took some comfort, and laid by, Emboldened by degrees, her former fear: Though still her visage was of death-like dye. "Misericord! father," when the friar was near (She said), "for brought to evil pass am I." And told, still broke by sobs, in doleful tone, The story, to her hearer not unknown.

XLVII To comfort her, some reasons full of grace, Sage and devout the approaching hermit cites: And, now his hand upon her moistened face, In speaking, now upon her bosom lights: As her, securer, next he would embrace: Him, kindling into pretty scorn, she smites With one hand on his breast, and backward throws, Then flushed with honest red, all over glows.

XLVIII A pocket at the ancient's side was dight, Where he a cruise of virtuous liquor wore; And at those puissant eyes, whence flashed the light Of the most radiant torch Love ever bore, Threw from the flask a little drop, of might To make her sleep: upon the sandy shore Already the recumbent damsel lay, The greedy elder's unresisting prey.

XLIX (Stanza XLIX untranslated by Rose)

L (Lines 1-2 untranslated by Rose) Hopeless, at length upon the beach he lies, And by the maid, exhausted, falls asleep. When to torment him new misfortunes rise: Fortune does seldom any measure keep; Unused to cut her cruel pastime short, If she with mortal man is pleased to sport.

LI It here behoves me, from the path I pressed, To turn awhile, ere I this case relate: In the great northern sea, towards the west, Green Ireland past, an isle is situate. Ebuda is its name, whose shores infest, (Its people wasted through the Godhead's hate) The hideous orc, and Proteus' other herd, By him against that race in vengeance stirred.

LII Old stories, speak they falsely or aright, Tell how a puissant king this country swayed; Who had a daughter fair, so passing bright And lovely, 'twas no wonder if the maid, When on the beach she stood in Proteus' sight, Left him to burn amid the waves: surveyed, One day alone, upon that shore in-isled, Her he compressed, and quitted great with child.

LIII This was sore torment to the sire, severe And impious more than all mankind; nor he, Such is the force of wrath, was moved to spare The maid, for reason or for piety. Nor, though he saw her pregnant, would forbear To execute his sentence suddenly; But bade together with the mother kill, Ere born, his grandchild, who had done no ill.

LIV Sea-Proteus to his flocks' wide charge preferred By Neptune, of all ocean's rule possessed, Inflamed with ire, his lady's torment heard, And, against law and usage, to molest The land (no sluggard in his anger) stirred His monsters, orc and sea-calf, with the rest; Who waste not only herds, but human haunts, Farm-house and town, with their inhabitants:

LV And girding them on every side, the rout Will often siege to walled cities lay; Where in long weariness and fearful doubt, The townsmen keep their watch by night and day. The fields they have abandoned all about, And for a remedy, their last assay, To the oracle, demanding counsel, fly, Which to the suppliant's prayer made this reply:

LVI `That it behoved them find a damsel, who A form as beauteous as that other wore, To be to Proteus offered up, in lieu Of the fair lady, slain upon the shore: He, if he deems her an atonement due, Will keep the damsel, not disturb them more: If not, another they must still present, And so, till they the deity content.'

LVII And this it was the cruel usage bred; That of the damsels held most fair of face, To Proteus every day should one be led. Till one should in the Godhead's sight find grace. The first and all those others slain, who fed, All a devouring orc, that kept his place Beside the port, what time into the main The remnant of the herd retired again.

LVIII Were the old tale of Proteus' false or true, (For this, in sooth, I know not who can read) With such a clause was kept by that foul crew The savage, ancient statute, which decreed That woman's flesh the ravening monster, who For this came every day to land, should feed. Though to be woman is a crying ill In every place, 'tis here a greater still.

LIX O wretched maids! whom 'mid that barbarous rout Ill-fortune on that wretched shore has tost! Who for the stranger damsel prowl about, Of her to make an impious holocaust; In that the more they slaughter from without, They less the number of their own exhaust. But since not always wind and waves convey Like plunder, upon every strand they prey.

LX With frigate and with galley wont to roam, And other sort of barks they range the sea, And, as a solace to their martyrdom, From far, or from their isle's vicinity, Bear women off; with open rapine some, These bought by gold, and those by flattery: And, plundered from the different lands they scower, Crowd with their captives dungeon-cell and tower.

LXI Keeping that region close aboard, to explore The island's lonely bank, a gallery creeps; Where, amid stubs upon the grassy shore, Angelica, unhappy damsel, sleeps. To wood and water there the sailor's moor, And from the bark, for this, a party leaps; And there that matchless flower of earthly charms Discovers in the holy father's arms.

LXII Oh! prize too dear, oh! too illustrious prey! To glut so barbarous and so base a foe! Oh! cruel Fortune! who believed thy sway Was of such passing power in things below? That thou shouldst make a hideous monster's prey The beauty, for which Agrican did glow, Brought with half Scythia's people from the gates Of Caucasus, in Ind, to find their fates.

LXIII The beauty, by Circassian Sacripant Preferred before his honour and his crown, The beauty which made Roland, Brava's vaunt, Sully his wholesome judgment and renown, The beauty which had moved the wide Levant, And awed, and turned its kingdom upside down, Now has not (thus deserted and unheard) One to assist it even with a word.

LXIV Oppressed with heavy sleep upon the shore, The lovely virgin, ere awake, they chain: With her, the enchanter friar the pirates bore On board their ship, a sad, afflicted train. This done, they hoisted up their sail once more, And the bark made the fatal isle again, Where, till the lot shall of their prey dispose, Her prisoned in a castle they enclose.

LXV But such her matchless beauty's power, the maid Was able that fierce crew to mollify, Who many days her cruel death delayed, Preserved until their last necessity; And while they damsels from without purveyed, Spared such angelic beauty: finally, The damsel to the monstrous orc they bring, The people all behind her sorrowing.

LXVI Who shall relate the anguish, the lament And outcry which against the welkin knock? I marvel that the sea-shore was not rent, When she was placed upon the rugged block, Where, chained and void of help, the punishment Of loathsome death awaits her on the rock. This will not I, so sorrow moves me, say, Which makes me turn my rhymes another way;

LXVII To find a verse of less lugubrious strain, Till I my wearied spirit shall restore: For not the squalid snake of mottled stain, Nor wild and whelpless tiger, angered more, Nor what of venomous, on burning plain, Creeps 'twixt the Red and the Atlantic shore, Could see the grisly sight, and choose but moan The damsel bound upon the naked stone.

LXVIII Oh! if this chance to her Orlando, who Was gone to Paris-town to seek the maid, Had been reported! or those other two, Duped by a post, dispatched from Stygian shade, They would have tracked her heavenly footsteps through A thousand deaths, to bear the damsel aid. But had the warriors of her peril known. So far removed, for what would that have done?

LXIX This while round Paris-walls the leaguer lay Of famed Troyano's son's besieging band, Reduced to such extremity one day, That it nigh fell into the foeman's hand; And, but that vows had virtue to allay The wrath of Heaven, whose waters drenched the land, That day had perished by the Moorish lance The holy empire and great name of France.

LXX To the just plaint of aged Charlemagne The great Creator turned his eyes, and stayed The conflagration with a sudden rain, Which haply human art had not allayed. Wise whosoever seeketh, not in vain, His help, than whose there is no better aid! Well the religious king, to whom 'twas given, Knew that the saving succour was from Heaven.

LXXI All night long counsel of his weary bed, Vexed with a ceaseless care, Orlando sought; Now here, now there, the restless fancy sped, Now turned, now seized, but never held the thought: As when, from sun or nightly planet shed, Clear water has the quivering radiance caught, The flashes through the spacious mansion fly, With reaching leap, right, left, and low, and high.

LXXII To memory now returned his lady gay, She rather ne'er was banished from his breast; And fanned the secret fire, which through the day (Now kindled into flame) had seemed at rest; That in his escort even from Catay Or farthest Ind, had journeyed to the west; There lost: Of whom he had discerned no token Since Charles's power near Bordeaux-town was broken.

LXXIII This in Orlando moved great grief, and he Lay thinking on his folly past in vain: "My heart," he said, "oh! how unworthily I bore myself! and out, alas! what pain, (When night and day I might have dwelt with thee, Since this thou didst not in thy grace disdain.) To have let them place thee in old Namus' hand! Witless a wrong so crying to withstand.

LXXIV "Might I not have excused myself? -- The king Had not perchance gainsaid my better right -- Of if he had gainsaid my reasoning, Who would have taken thee in my despite? Why not have armed, and rather let them wring My heart out of my breast? But not the might Of Charles or all his host, had they been tried, Could have availed to tear thee from my side.

LXXV "Oh! had he placed her but in strong repair, Guarded in some good fort, or Paris-town! -- Since he would trust her to Duke Namus' care, That he should lose her in this way, alone Sorts with my wish. -- Who would have kept the fair Like me, that would for her to death have gone? Have kept her better than my heart or sight: Who should and could, yet did not what I might.

LXXVI "Without me, my sweet life, beshrew me, where Art thou bestowed, so beautiful and young! As some lost lamb, what time the daylight fair Shuts in, remains the wildering woods among, And goes about lamenting here and there, Hoping to warn the shepherd with her tongue; Till the wolf hear from far the mournful strain, And the sad shepherd weep for her in vain.

LXXVII "My hope, where are thou, where? In doleful wise Dost thou, perchance, yet rove thy lonely round? Art thou, indeed, to ravening wolf a prize, Without thy faithful Roland's succour found? And is the flower, which, with the deities, Me, in mid heaven had placed, which, not to wound, (So reverent was my love) thy feelings chaste, I kept untouched, alas! now plucked and waste?

LXXVIII "If this fair flower be plucked, oh, misery! oh, Despair! what more is left me but to die? Almighty God, with every other woe Rather than this, thy wretched suppliant try. If this be true, these hands the fatal blow Shall deal, and doom me to eternity." Mixing his plaint with bitter tears and sighs, So to himself the grieved Orlando cries.

LXXIX Already every where, with due repose, Creatures restored their weary spirits; laid These upon stones and upon feathers those, Or greensward, in the beech or myrtle's shade: But scarcely did thine eyes, Orlando close, So on thy mind tormenting fancies preyed. Nor would the vexing thoughts which bred annoy, Let thee in peace that fleeting sleep enjoy.

LXXX To good Orlando it appeared as he, Mid odorous flowers, upon a grassy bed, Were gazing on that beauteous ivory, Which Love's own hand had tinged with native red; And those two stars of pure transparency, With which he in Love's toils his fancy fed: Of those bright eyes, and that bright face, I say, Which from his breast had torn his heart away.

LXXXI He with the fullest pleasure overflows, That ever happy lover did content: But, lo! this time a mighty tempest rose, And wasted flowers, and trees uptore and rent. Not with the rage with which this whirlwind blows, Joust warring winds, north, south, and east, unpent. It seemed, as if in search of covering shade, He, vainly wandering, through a desert strayed.

LXXXII Meanwhile the unhappy lover lost the dame In that dim air, nor how he lost her, weets; And, roving far and near, her beauteous name Through every sounding wood and plain repeats. And while, "Oh wretched me!" is his exclaim, "Who has to poison changed my promised sweets?" He of his sovereign lady who with tears Demands his aid, the lamentation hears.

LXXXIII Thither, whence comes the sound, he swiftly hies, And toils, now here, now there, with labour sore: Oh! what tormenting grief, to think his eyes Cannot again the lovely rays explore! -- Lo! other voice from other quarter cries -- "Hope not on earth to enjoy the blessing more." At that alarming cry he woke, and found Himself in tears of bitter sorrow drowned.

LXXXIV Not thinking that like images are vain, When fear, or when desire disturbs our rest, The thought of her, exposed to shame and pain, In such a mode upon his fancy pressed, He, thundering, leaped from bed, and with what chain And plate behoved, his limbs all over dressed; Took Brigliadoro from the stall he filled, Nor any squire attendant's service willed.

LXXXV And to pass every where, yet not expose By this his dignity to stain or slight, The old and honoured ensign he foregoes, His ancient bearing, quartered red and white. And in its place a sable ensign shows, Perhaps as suited to his mournful plight, That erst he from an Amostantes bore, Whom he had slain in fight some time before.

LXXXVI At midnight he departed silently, Not to his uncle spake, not to his true And faithful comrade Brandimart, whom he So dearly cherished, even bade adieu; But when, with golden tresses streaming-free, The sun from rich Tithonus' inn withdrew, And chased the shades, and cleared the humid air, The king perceived Orlando was not there.

LXXXVII To Charles, to his displeasure, were conveyed News that his nephew had withdrawn at night, When most he lacked his presence and his aid; Nor could he curb his choler at the flight, But that with foul reproach he overlaid, And sorely threatened the departed knight, By him so foul a fault should be repented, Save he, returning home, his wrath prevented.

LXXXVIII Nor would Orlando's faithful Brandimart, Who loved him as himself, behind him stay; Whether to bring him back he in his heart Hoped, or of him ill brooked injurious say: And scarce, in his impatience to depart, Till fall of eve his sally would delay. Lest she should hinder his design, of this He nought imparted to his Flordelis:

LXXXIX To him this was a lady passing dear, And from whose side he unwont to stray; Endowed with manners, grace, and beauteous cheer, Wisdom and wit: if now he went away And took no leave, it was because the peer Hoped to revisit her that very day. But that befel him after, as he strayed, Which him beyond his own intent delayed.

XC She when she has expected him in vain Well nigh a month, and nought of him discerns, Sallies without a guide or faithful train, So with desire of him her bosom yearns: And many a country seeks for him in vain; To whom the story in due place returns. No more I now shall tell you of these two, More bent Anglantes' champion to pursue;

XCI Who having old Almontes' blazonry So changed, drew nigh the gate; and there the peer Approached a captain of the guard, when he; "I am the County," whispered in his ear, And (the bridge quickly lowered, and passage free At his commandment) by the way most near Went straight towards the foe: but what befell Him next, the canto which ensues shall tell.