XXVII.

Prusion is the Alvaracehia’s king: below King Dardinello’s flag Zumara’s power Is ranged. I wot not, I, if owl or crow, Or other bird ill-omened, which from tower Or tree croaks future evil, did foreshow To one or to the other, that the hour Was fixed in heaven, when on the following day Either should perish in this deadly fray.

XXVIII.

Noritia’s men and Tremisene’s alone Were wanting to complete the paynim host; But in the martial muster sign was none, Nor tale, nor tiding of the squadrons lost; To wondering Agramant alike unknown, What kept the slothful warriors from their post, When of King Tremisene’s a squire was brought Before him, who at large the mischief taught;

XXIX.

—Who taught how Manilardo was laid low, Alzirdo, and many others, on the plain. —“Sir,” said the bearer of the news, “the foe “Who slew our troop, would all thy camp have slain, “If thine assembled host had been more slow “Than me, who, as it was, escaped with pain. “This man slays horse and foot, as in the cote, “The wolf makes easy waste of sheep and goat.”

XXX.

Where the bold Africans their standards plant, A warrior had arrived some days before; Nor was there in the west, or whole Levant, A knight, with heart or prowess gifted more. To him much grace was done by Agramant, As successor of Agrican, who wore The crown of Tartary, a warrior wight; The son the famous Mandricardo hight.

XXXI.

Renowned he was for many a glorious quest Atchieved, and through the world his fame was blown. But him had glorified above the rest Worth in the Syrian fairy’s castle shown : Where mail, which cased the Trojan Hector’s breast A thousand years before, he made his own. And finished that adventure, strange and fell; A story which breeds terror but to tell.

XXXII.

When the squire told his news amid that show Of troops, was present Agrican’s bold son, Who raised his daring face, resolved to go And find the warrior who the deed had done; But the design he hatched, forebore to show; As making small account of any one, Or fearing lest, should he reveal his thought, The quest by other champion might be sought.

XXXIII.

He of the squire demanded what the vest And bearings, which the valiant stranger wore; Who answered, ‘that he went without a crest, ‘And sable shield and sable surcoat bore.’ —And, sir, ’twas true; for so was Roland drest; The old device renounced he had before: For as he mourned within, so he without, The symbols of his grief would bear about.

XXXIV.

Marsilius had to Mandricardo sped, As gift, a courser of a chesnut stain, Whose legs and mane were sable; he was bred Between a Friesland mare and nag of Spain. King Mandricardo, armed from foot to head, Leapt on the steed and galloped o’er the plain, And swore upon the camp to turn his back Till he should find the champion clad in black.

XXXV.

The king encounters many of the crew Whom good Orlando’s arm had put to flight; And some a son, and some a brother rue, Who in the rout had perished in their sight; And in the coward’s cheek of pallid hue Is yet pourtrayed the sad and craven sprite: — Yet , through the fear endured, they far and nigh, Pallid, and silent, and insensate fly.

XXXVI.

Nor he long way had rode, ere he descried A passing-cruel spectacle and sore; But which the wonderous feats well testified, That were recounted Agramant before. Now on this hand, now that , the dead he eyed, Measured their wounds, and turned their bodies o’er; Moved by strange envy of the knight whose hand Had strown the champaign with the slaughtered band.

XXXVII.

As wolf or mastiff-dog, who comes the last Where the remains of slaughtered bullock lie, And finds but horn and bones, where rich repast Had fed the ravening hound and vulture nigh, Glares vainly on the scull, unsmacked; so passed The barbarous Tartar king those bodies by; And grudged, lamenting, like the hungry beast, To have come too late for such a sumptuous feast.

XXXVIII.

That day, and half the next, in search he strayed Of him who wore the sable vest and shield. When lo! he saw a mead, o’ertopt with shade, Where a deep river wound about the field, With narrow space between the turns it made, Where’er from side to side the water wheeled. Even such a spot as this with circling waves Below Otricoli the Tyber laves.

XXXIX.

Where this deep stream was fordable, he scanned A crowd of cavaliers that armour bore: And these the paynim questioned, ‘Who had manned, ‘With such a troop, and to what end, the shore?’ To him replied the captain of the band, Moved by his lordly air, and arms he wore, Glittering with gold and jewels, costly gear, Which showed him an illustrious cavalier.

XL.

“In charge” (he said) “we of the daughter go “Of him our king, who fills Granada’s throne, “Espoused by Rodomont of Sarza, though “To fame the tidings are as yet unknown. “And we, departing when the sun is low, “And the cicala hushed, which now alone “Is heard, shall bring her vhere her father keeps “I’ the Spanish camp; meanwhile the lady sleeps.”

XLI.

He who for scorn had daffed the world aside, Designs to see at once, how able were Those horsemen to defend the royal bride, Committed by their sovereign to their care. “The maid, by what I hear, is fair:” (he cried) “Fain would I now be certified, how fair: “Then me to her, or her to me convey, “For I must quickly wend another way.”

XLII.

“Thou needs art raving mad,” replied in few The chief,—nor more. But with his lance in rest, The Tartar monarch at the speaker flew, And with the levelled spear transfixed his breast. For the point pierced the yielding corslet through, And lifeless he, perforce, the champaign prest. The son of Agrican his lance regained, Who weaponless without the spear remained.

XLIII.

Nor sword nor club the warlike Tartar bore, Since, when the Trojan Hector’s plate and chain He gained, because the faulchion lacked, he swore (To this obliged), nor swore the king in vain, That save he won the blade Orlando wore, He would no other grasp,—that Durindane, Held in high value by Almontes bold, Which Roland bears, and Hector bore of old.

XLIV.

Great is the Tartar monarch’s daring, those At such a disadvantage to assay. He pricks, with levelled lance, among his foes, Shouting, in fury,—“Who shall bar my way?” Round and about him suddenly they close; These draw the faulchion, and those others lay The spear in rest: a multitude he slew, Before his lance was broke upon the crew.

XLV.

When this he saw was broke, the truncheon sound And yet entire, he took, both hands between, And with so many bodies strewed the ground, That direr havoc never yet was seen: And as with that jaw-bone, by hazard found, The Hebrew Samson slew the Philistine, Crushed helm and shield; and often side by side, Slain by the truncheon, horse and rider died.

XLVI.

In running to their death the wretches vie, Nor cease because their comrades perish near: Yet bitterer in such a mode to die, Than death itself, does to the troop appear. They grudge to forfeit precious life, and lie Crushed by the fragment of a broken spear; And think foul scorn beneath the pounding stake Strangely to die the death of frog or snake.

XLVII.

But after they at their expense had read That it was ill to die in any way, And near two thirds were now already dead, The rest began to fly in disarray. As if with what was his the vanquished fled, The cruel paynim, cheated of his prey, Ill bore that any, from the murderous strife Of that scared rabble, should escape with life.

XLVIII.

As in the well-dried fen or stubble-land, Short time the stalk endures, or stridulous reed, Against the flames, which careful rustic’s hand Scatters when Boreas blows the fires to feed; What time they take, and by the north-wind fanned, Crackle and snap, and through the furrow speed; No otherwise, with little profit, those King Mandricardo’s kindled wrath oppose.

XLIX.

When afterwards he marks the entrance free, Left ill-secured, and without sentinel, He, following prints (which had been recently Marked on the mead), proceeds, amid the swell Of loud laments, Granada’s dame to see, If she as beauteous were as what they tell. He wound his way ’mid corpses, where the wave, Winding from side to side, a passage gave:

L.

And in the middle of the mead surveyed Doralice (such the gentle lady’s name) , Who, at the root of an old ash-tree laid, Bemoaned her: fast her lamentations came, And tears, like plenteous vein of water, strayed Into the beauteous bosom of the dame; Who, (so it from her lovely face appeared,) For others mourned, while for herself she feared.

LI.

Her fear increased when she approaching spied Him foul with blood, and marked his felon cheer; And piercing shrieks the very sky divide Raised by herself and followers, in their fear. For over and above the troop who guide The fair infanta, squire and cavalier, Came ancient men and matrons in her train, And maids, the fairest of Granada’s reign.

LII.

When that fair face by him of Tartary Is seen, which has no paragon in Spain, Where amid tears (in laughter what were she?) Is twisted Love’s inextricable chain, He knows not if in heaven or earth he be; Nor from his victory reaps other gain, Than yielding up himself a thrall to her, (He knows not why) who was his prisoner.

LIII.

Yet not so far his courtesy he strained, That he would lose his labour’s fruit, although The royal damsel showed, who sorely plained, Such grief as women in despair can show. He, who the hope within him entertained To turn to sovereign joy her present woe, Would wholly bear her off; whom having placed On a white jennet, he his way retraced.

LIV.

He dames, maids, ancient men, and others, who Had from Granada with the damsel fared, Kindly dismissed, their journey to pursue; Saying, “My care suffices; I of guard, “Of guide, of handmaid will the office do, “To serve her in her every need prepared. “Farewell!” and thus unable to withstand The wrong, with tears and sighs withdrew the band,

LV.

Saying, “How woe-begone will be her sire, “When he the miserable case shall hear! “What grief will be the bridegroom’s! what his ire! “How dread the vengeance of that cavalier! “When so the lady’s needs such help require, “Alas! and why is not the champion near, “To save the illustrious blood of Stordilane, “Ere the thief bears her farther hence, from stain?”

LVI.

The Tartar, joying in the prize possest, Which he by chance and valour won and wore; To find the warrior of the sable vest Seemed not to have the haste he had before, And stopp’d and loitered, where he whilom prest; And cast about and studied evermore To find some fitting shelter; with desire, In quiet to exhale such amorous fire.

LVII.

Doralice he consoled this while, whose eyes And cheek were wetted with the frequent tear, And many matters feigned and flattering lies; ‘—How, known by fame, he long had held her dear, ‘And how his country and glad realm, whose size ‘Shamed others, praised for grandeur far and near, ‘He quitted, not for sight of France or Spain; ‘But to behold that cheek of lovely grain.’

LVIII.

“If a man merits love by loving, I “Yours by my love deserve; if it is won “By birth,—who boasts a genealogy “Like me, the puissant Agricano’s son? “By riches,—who with me in wealth can vie, “That in dominion yield to God alone? “By courage,—I to-day (I ween) have proved “That I for courage merit to be loved.”

LIX.

These words, and many others on his part, Love frames and dictates to the Tartar knight, Which sweetly tend to cheer the afflicted heart Of the unhappy maid, disturbed with fright. By these fear first was laid, and next the smart Sheathed of that woe, which had nigh pierced her sprite; And with more patience thence the maid began To hear, and her new lover’s reasons scan.

LX.

Next much more affable, with courteous lore Seasoning her answers to his suit, replies; Nor looking at the king, sometimes forbore To fix upon his face her pitying eyes. The paynim thence, whom Love had smote before, Not hopeful now, but certain, of his prize, Deemed that the lovely damsel would not still, As late, be found rebellious to his will.

LXI.

Riding in her glad company a-field, Which so rejoiced his soul, so satisfied; And being near the time, when to their bield, Warned by the chilly night, all creatures hied, Seeing the sun now low and half concealed, The warrior ’gan in greater hurry ride; Until he heard reed-pipe and whistle sound, And next saw farm and cabin smoking round.

LXII.

Pastoral lodgings were the dwellings near, Less formed for show, than for conveniency; And the young damsel and the cavalier The herdsman welcomed with such courtesy, That both were pleasured by his kindly cheer. For not alone dwells Hospitality In court and city; but ofttimes we find In loft and cottage men of gentle kind.

LXIII.

What afterwards was done at close of day Between the damsel and the Tartar lord, I will not take upon myself to say; So leave to each, at pleasure, to award. But as they rose the following morn more gay, It would appear they were of fair accord: And on the swain who them such honour showed, Her thanks at parting Doralice bestowed.

LXIV.

Thence from one place to the other wandering, they Find themselves by a river, as they go, Which to the sea in silence winds its way, And ill could be pronounced to stand or flow. So clear and limpid, that the cheerful day, With nought to intercept it, pierced below. Upon its bank, beneath a cooling shade, They found two warriors and a damsel laid.

LXV.

Now lofty Fancy, which one course to run Permits not, calls me hence in sudden wise; And thither I return, where paynims stun Fair France with hostile din and angry cries, About the tent, wherein Troyano’s son The holy empire in his wrath defies, And boastful Rodomont, with vengeful doom, Gives Paris to the flames, and levels Rome.

LXVI.

Tidings had reached the Moorish sovereign’s ear That the English had already passed the sea; And he bade Garbo’s aged king appear, Marsilius, and his heads of chivalry: Who all advised the monarch to prepare For the assault of Paris. ‘They may be Assured they in the storm will never thrive, Unless ’tis made before the aids arrive.’

LXVII.

Innumerable ladders for the scale Had been collected upon every hand, And plank and beam, and hurdle’s twisted mail, For different uses, at the king’s command; And bridge and boat; and, what might more avail Than all the rest, a first and second band For the assault (so bids the monarch) form; Who will himself go forth with them that storm.

LXVIII.

The emperor, on the vigil of the day Of battle, within Paris, everywhere, By priest and friar of orders black and gray, And white, bade celebrate mass-rite and prayer; And those who had confessed, a fair array, And from the Stygian demons rescued were, Communicated in such fashion, all, As if they were the ensuing day to fall.

LXIX.

At the high church, he, girt with paladine And preachers of the word, and barons brave, With much devotion at those acts divine Assisted, and a fair example gave; And there with folded hands and face supine, Exclaimed, “O Lord! although my sins be grave, “Permit not, that, in this their utmost need, “Thy people suffer for their king’s misdeed!

LXX.

“And if that they should suffer is thy will, “And that they should due penance undergo, “At least delay thy purpose to fulfil; “So that thine enemies deal not the blow. “For, when ’tis given him in his wrath to kill “Us who are deemed thy friends, the paynim foe, “That thou art without power to save, will cry, “Because thou lett’st thy faithful people die:

LXXI.

“And, for one faithless found, against thy sway “A hundred shall throughout the world rebel; “So that false Babel’s law will have its way, “And thus thy blessed faith put down and quell. “Defend thy suffering people, who are they “That purged thy tomb from heathen hounds and fell, “And many times and oft, by foes offended, “Thy holy church and vicars have defended.

LXXII.

“That our deserts unfitting are to place “I’ the scale against our mighty debt, I know; “Nor pardon can we hope, if we retrace “Our sinful lives: but if thou shouldst bestow “In aid, the gift of thy redeeming grace, “The account is quit and balanced, that we owe; “Nor can we of thy succour, Lord, despair, “While we in mind thy saving mercy bear.”

LXXIII.

So spake the holy emperor aloud, In humbleness of heart and deep contrition; And added other prayers withal, and vowed What fitted his great needs and high condition. Nor was his supplication disallowed; For his good genius hears the king’s petition, Best of the seraphs he; who spreads his wings, And to the Saviour’s feet this offering brings.

LXXIV.

Infinite other prayers as well preferred, Were, by like couriers, to the Godhead’s ear So borne; which when the blessed spirits heard, They all together gazed, with pitying cheer, On their eternal, loving Lord, and, stirred With one desire, besought that he would hear The just petition, to his ears conveyed, Of this his Christian people, seeking aid.

LXXV.

And the ineffable Goodness, who in vain Was never sought by faithful heart, an eye, Full of compassion, raised; and from the train Waved Michael, and to the arch-angel; “Hie, “To seek the Christian host that crost the main, “And lately furled their sails in Picardy: “These so conduct to Paris, that their tramp “And noise be heard not in the hostile camp.

LXXVI.

“Find Silence first, and bid him, on my part, “On this emprize attend thee, at thy side; “Since he for such a quest, with happiest art “Will know what is most fitting to provide. “Next, where she sojourns, instantly impart “To Discord my command, that she, supplied “With steel and tinder, ’mid the paynims go, “And fire and flame in their encampment blow;

LXXVII.

“And throughout those among them, who are said “To be the mightiest, spread such strife, that they “Together may contend, and that some dead “Remain, some hurt, some taken in the fray; “And some to leave the camp, by wrath, be led; “So that they yield their sovereign little stay.” Nothing the blessed winged-one replies, But swoops descending from the starry skies.

LXXVIII.

Where’er the angel Michael turns his wing, The clouds are scattered and the sky turns bright; About his person forms a golden ring, As we see summer-lightning gleam at night. This while the courier of the heavenly king Thinks, on his way, where he may best alight, With the intent to find that foe to speech, To whom he first his high behest would teach.

LXXIX.

Upon the thought the posting angel brooded, Where he, for whom he sought was used to dwell; Who after thinking much, at last concluded Him he should find in church or convent-cell; Where social speech is in such mode excluded, That Silence , where the cloistered brethren swell Their anthems, where they sleep, and where they sit At meat; and everywhere in fine is writ.

LXXX.

Weening that he shall find him here, he plies With greater speed his plumes of gilded scale, And deems as well that Peace, here guested, lies, And Charity and Quiet, without fail. But finds he is deceived in his surmise, As soon as he has past the cloister’s pale. Here Silence is not; nor (’tis said) is found Longer, except in writing, on this ground.

LXXXI.

Nor here he Love, nor here he Peace surveys, Piety, Quiet, or Humility. Here dwelt they once; but ’twas in ancient days; Chased hence by Avarice, Anger, Gluttony, Pride, Envy, Sloth, and Cruelty. In amaze The angel mused upon such novelty: He narrowly the hideous squadron eyed, And Discord too amid the rest espied;

LXXXII.

Even her, to whom the eternal Sire as well, Having found Silence, bade him to repair. He had believed he to Avernus’ cell, Where she was harboured with the damned, must fare, And now discerned her in this other hell (Who would believe it?) amid mass and prayer. Strange Michael thought to see her there enshrined, Whom he believed he must go far to find.

LXXXIII.

Her by her party-coloured vest he knew. Unequal strips and many formed the gown, Which, opening with her walk, or wind that blew, Now showed, now hid her; for they were unsown. Her hair appeared to be at strife; in hue Like silver and like gold, and black and brown; Part in a tress, in riband part comprest, Some on her shoulders flowed, some on her breast.

LXXXIV.

Examination, summons, and a store Of writs and letters of attorney, she, And hearings, in her hands and bosom bore, And consultation, and authority: Weapons, from which the substance of the poor Can never safe in walled city be. Before, behind her, and about her, wait Attorney, notary, and advocate.

LXXXV.

Her Michael calls to him, and gives command “That she among the strongest paynims go; “And find occasion whence amid the band “Warfare and memorable scathe may grow.” He next from her of Silence makes demand, Who of his motions easily might know; As one who from one land to the other hied, Kindling and scattering fire on either side.

LXXXVI.

“I recollect not ever to have viewed “Him anywhere,” quoth Discord in reply; “But oft have heard him mentioned, and for shrewd “Greatly commended by the general cry: “But Fraud, who makes one of this multitude, “And who has sometimes kept him company, “I think, can furnish news of him to thee, “And (pointing with her finger) that is she .”

LXXXVII.

With pleasing mien, grave walk, and decent vest, Fraud rolled her eye-balls humbly in her head; And such benign and modest speech possest, She might a Gabriel seem who Ave said. Foul was she and deformed, in all the rest; But with a mantle, long and widely spread, Concealed her hideous parts; and evermore Beneath the stole a poisoned dagger wore.

LXXXVIII.

Of her the good archangel made demand What way in search of Silence to pursue: Who said; “He with the Virtues once was scanned, “Nor dwelt elsewhere; aye guested by the crew “Of Benedict, or blest Elias’ band, “When abbeys and when convent-cells were new; “And whilom in the schools long time did pass, “With sage Archytas and Pythagoras .

LXXXIX.

“But those philosophers and saints of yore “Extinguished, who had been his former stay, “From the good habits he had used before “He passed to evil ones; began to stray, “Changing his life, at night with lovers, bore “Thieves company, and sinned in every way: “He oftentimes consorts with Treason; further, “I even have beheld him leagued with Murther.

XC.

“With coiners him you oftentimes may see “Harbour in some obscure and close repair. “So oft he changes home and company, “To light on him would be a fortune rare: “Yet have I hope to point him out to thee: “If to Sleep’s house thou wilt at midnight fare, “Him wilt thou surely find; for to repose “At night he ever to that harbour goes.”

XCI.

Though Fraud was alway wont to deal in lies, So like the simple truth appears her say, The angel yields the tale belief; and flies Forth from the monastery without delay, Tempers his speed, and schemes withal in wise To finish at the appointed time his way, That at the house of Sleep (the mansion blind Full well he knew) this Silence he may find.

XCII.

In blest Arabia lies a pleasant vale , Removed from village and from city’s reach. By two fair hills o’ershadowed is the dale, And full of ancient fir and sturdy beech. Thither the circling sun without avail Conveys the cheerful daylight: for no breach The ray scan make through boughs spread thickly round; And it is here a cave runs under ground.

XCIII.

Beneath the shadow of this forest deep, Into the rock there runs a grotto wide. Here widely wandering, ivy-suckers creep, About the cavern’s entrance multiplied. Harboured within this grot lies heavy Sleep. Ease, corpulent and gross, upon this side, Upon that , Sloth, on earth has made her seat; Who cannot go, and hardly keeps her feet.

XCIV.

Mindless Oblivion at the gate is found, Who lets none enter, and agnizes none; Nor message hears or bears, and from that ground Without distinction chases every one; While Silence plays the scout and walks his round, Equipt with shoes of felt and mantle brown, And motions from a distance all who meet Him on his circuit, from the dim retreat.

XCV.

The angel him approaches quietly, And, “ ’Tis God’s bidding” (whispers in his ear) “That thou Rinaldo and his company, “Brought in his sovereign’s aid, to Paris steer: “But that thou do the deed so silently, “That not a Saracen their cry shall hear; “So that their army come upon the foe, “Ere he from Fame of their arrival know.”

XCVI.

Silence to him no otherwise replied Than signing with his head that he obeyed: (And took his post behind the heavenly guide) Both at one flight to Picardy conveyed. The angel moved those bands of valour tried, And short to them a tedious distance made: Whom he to Paris safe transports; while none Is conscious that a miracle is done.

XCVII.

Silence the advancing troop kept skirting round, In front, and flank, and rear of the array; Above the band he spread a mist profound, And everywhere beside ’twas lightsome day; Nor through the impeding fog the shrilling sound Of horn was heard, without, or trumpet’s bray. He next the hostile paynims went to find, And with I know not what made deaf and blind.

XCVIII.

While with such haste his band Rinaldo led, That him an angel well might seem to guide, And in such silence moved, that nought was said Or heard of this upon the paynim side; King Agramant his infantry had spread Throughout fair Paris’ suburbs, and beside The foss, and underneath the walls; that day To make upon the place his worst assay.

XCIX.

He who the Moorish monarch’s force would tell, Which Charlemagne this day will have to meet, In wooded Apennine might count as well The trees upon its back, or waves that beat (What time the troubled waters highest swell) Against the Mauritanian Atlas’ feet; Or watch at midnight with how many eyes The furtive works of lovers Heaven espies .

C.

The larum-bells, loud-sounding through the air, Stricken with frequent blows , the town affray; And in the crowded temples every where Movement of lips and hands upraised to pray Are seen: if treasure seemed to God so fair As to our foolish thoughts, upon this day The holy consistory had bid mould Their every statue upon earth in gold,

CI.

Lamenting may be heard the aged just, In that they were reserved for such a woe; Calling those happy that in sacred dust Were buried many and many a year ago. But the bold youths who, valiant and robust, Small thought upon the approaching ills bestow, Scorning their elders’ counsel, here and there Hurrying, in fury, to the walls repair.

CII.

Here might you paladin and baron ken, King, duke, and marquis, count and chivalry, And soldier, foreigner or citizen, Ready for honour and for Christ to die; Who, eager to assail the Saracen, On Charlemagne to lower the bridges cry. He witnesses with joy their martial heat, But to permit their sally deems not meet.

CIII.

And them he ordered in convenient post, The advance of the barbarians to impede: For this would ill suffice a numerous host, To that he was content that few should speed. Some worked at the machines, some wild-fire tost, All ranged according to the separate need. Charles, never in one place, with restless care Provides defence and succour every where.

CIV.

Paris is seated on a spacious plain, I’ the midst—the heart of France, more justly say. A stream flows into it, and forth again; But first, the passing waters, as they stray, An island form, and so secure the main And better part, dividing on their way. The other two (three separate quarters note), Within the river girds, without the moat.

CV.

The town, whose walls for miles in circuit run, Might well have been attacked from many a side; Yet, for he would assail it but on one, Nor willingly his scattered troops divide, Westward beyond the stream Troyano’s son Retired, from thence the assailing bands to guide. In that, he neither city had nor plain Behind, but what was his, as far as Spain.

CVI.

Where’er the walls of Paris wound about, Large ammunition had king Charles purveyed; Strengthening with dyke each quarter held in doubt; And had within trench, drain, and casemate made: And where the river entered and went out, Had thickest chains across the channel laid. But most of all, his prudent cares appear Where there is greatest cause for present fear.

CVII.

With eyes of Argus, Pepin’s valiant son, Where Agramant was bent to storm foresaw, And every thing forestalled, ere yet begun By the bold followers of Mahound’s law. With Isolier, Grandonio, Falsiron, Serpentin, Balugantes, and Ferrau, And what beside he out of Spain had led, Marsilius was in arms, their valiant head.

CVIII.

With old Sobrino, on the left of Seine, Pulian and Dardinel d’Almontes meet, With Oran’s giant king, to swell the train: Six cubits is the prince, from head to feet. But why move I my pen with greater pain Than these men move their arms? for in his heat King Rodomont exclaims, blaspheming sore, Nor can contain his furious spirit more.

CIX.

As swarming to assail the pastoral bowl , With sound of stridulous wing, through summer sky, Or relics of a feast, their luscious dole, Repair the ready numbers of the fly; As starlings to the vineyard’s crimsoning pole With the ripe clusters charged, heaven’s concave high Filling, as they advanced, with noise and shout, Fast hurried to the storm the Moorish rout.

CX.

Upon their walls the Christians in array, With lance, sword, axe, and stone and wild-fire tost, The assaulted city guard without dismay, And little reck the proud barbarian’s boast: Nor when death snatches this or that away, Does any one in fear refuse his post. Into the fosse below the paynim foes Return, amid a storm of strokes and blows.

CXI.

Nor in this war is iron plied alone, But mighty masses and whole bulwarks fall, And top of tower, huge piece of bastion, And with much toil disrupted, solid wall; While streams of boiling water pouring down, Insufferably the advancing paynims gall: An ill-resisted rain, which, in despite Of helmet, makes its way, and blinds the sight.

CXII.

And this than iron spear offended more: Then how much more the mist of lime-dust fine! Then how the emptied vessel, burning sore With nitre, sulphur, pitch, and turpentine! Nor idle lie the fiery hoops in store , Which, wreathed about with flaming tresses, shine. These at the foemen scaled, upon all hands, Form cruel garlands for the paynim bands.

CXIII.

Meanwhile, up to the walls the second crew Fierce Sarza’s king has driven, accompanied By bold Ormida and Buraldo, who The Garamantes and Marmonda guide; Clarindo and Loridano; nor from view, It seems, will Setta’s valiant monarch hide: Morocco’s king and he of Cosca go With these, that men their martial worth may know.

CXIV.

With crimson Rodomont his banner stains, And in the vermeil field a lion shows; Who, bitted by a maid, to curb and reins His savage mouth disdains not to unclose. Himself in the submissive lion feigns The haughty Rodomont, and would suppose In her who curbs him with the bit and string, Doralice, daughter to Grenada’s king;

CXV.

Whom Mandricardo took, as I before Related, and from whom, and in what wise. Even she it was, whom Sarza’s monarch more Loved than his realm,—beyond his very eyes: And valour showed for her and courteous lore, Not knowing yet she was another’s prize. If he had,—then,—then first,—the story known, Even what he did that day, he would have done.

CXVI.

At once the foes a thousand ladders rear, Against the wall by the assailants shored, Two manned each round; the second, in the rear, Urged on the first; the third the second gored. One mounts the wall through valour, one through fear, And all attempt perforce the dangerous ford; For cruel Rodomont, of Argier, slays Or smites the wretched laggard who delays.

CXVII.

’Tis thus, ’mid fire and ruin, all assay To mount the wall; but others to assure Themselves, some safer passage seek, where they Will have least pain and peril to endure. Rodomont only scorns by any way To wend, except by what is least secure; And in that desperate case, where others made Their offerings, cursed the god to whom they prayed.

CXVIII.

He in a cuirass, hard and strong, was drest; A dragon-skin it was with scaly quilt, Which erst secured the manly back and breast Of his bold ancestor, that Babel built; Who hoped the rule of heaven from God to wrest, And him would from his golden dome have spilt. Perfect, and for this end alone, were made Helmet and shield as well as trenchant blade.

CXIX.

Nor Rodomont to Nimrod yields in might, Proud and untamed; and who would not forbear To scale the lofty firmament till night, Could he in this wide world descry the stair . He stood not, he, to mark the bulwark’s plight, Nor if the fosse of certain bottom were. He past, ran,—rather flew across the moat, Plunging in filth and water to his throat.

CXX.

Dripping and foul with water and with weeds, ’Mid fire and stone, and arbalests, and bows, On drives the chief; as through the marshy reeds, The wild-swine of our own Mallea goes; Who makes large day-light wheresoe’er he speeds, Parting the sedge with breast and tusk and nose. The paynim, safe in buckler lifted high, Scorns not the wall alone, but braves the sky.

CXXI.

Rodomont has no sooner gained the shore, Than on the wooden bartizan he stands, Within the city walls, a bridge that bore (Roomy and large) king Charles’s Christian bands . Here many a scull is riven, here men take more Than monkish tonsure at the warrior’s hands: Heads fly and arms; and to the ditch a flood Runs streaming from the wall of crimson blood.

CXXII.

He drops the shield; and with two-handed sway Wielding his sword, duke Arnulph he offends, Who came from whence, into the briny bay, The water of the rapid Rhine descends. No better than the sulphur keeps away The advancing flame, the wretch his life defends. He his last shudder gives, and tumbles dead; Cleft downwards, a full palm from neck and head.

CXXIII.

At one back-stroke sir Spineloccio true, Anselmo, Prando, and Oldrado fell; The narrow place and thickly-swarming crew Make the wide-circling blow so fully tell. The first half Flemings were, the residue Are Normans, who the list of slaughter swell. Orghetto of Maganza, he from brow To breast divides, and thence to paunch below.

CXXIV.

Down from the wall Andropono and Moschine He cast into the ditch: a priest the first; The second, but a worshipper of wine, Drained, at a draught, whole runlets in his thirst; Aye wonted simple water to decline, Like viper’s blood or venom: now immersed In this, he perishes amid that slaughter; And, what breeds most affliction, dies by water.

CXXV.

Lewis the Provencal is cleft in two; Arnold of Thoulouse through the breast before; Hubert of Tours, sir Dionysius, Hugh, And Claud, pour forth their ghosts in reeking gore. Odo, Ambaldo, Satallon ensue, And Walter next; of Paris are the four— With others, that by me unmentioned fall, Who cannot tell the name and land of all.

CXXVI.

The crowd, by Rodomont of Sarza led , The ladders lift, and many places scale. Here the Parisians make no further head, Who find their first defence of small avail. Full well they know that danger more to dread Within awaits the foemen who assail; Because between the wall and second mound A fosse descends, wide, horrid, and profound.

CXXVII.

Besides, that ours, with those upon the height, War from below, like valiant men and stout, New files succeed to those who fall in fight, Where, on the interior summit, stand the rout, Who gall with lances, and a whistling flight Of darts, the mighty multitude without; Many of whom, I ween, that post would shun, If it were not for royal Ulien’s son .

CXXVIII.

But he still heartened some, and chid the rest, And forced them forward to their sore alarm. One paynim’s head he cleft, and other’s breast, Who turned about to fly; and of the swarm Some shoved and pushed and to the encounter prest, Close-grappled by the collar, hair, or arm: And downwards from the wall such numbers threw, The ditch was all too narrow for the crew.

CXXIX.

While so the foes descend, or rather fling Themselves into the perilous profound; And thence by many ladders try to spring Upon the summit of the second mound, King Rodomont, as if he had a wing Upon his every member, from the ground Upraised his weight, and vaulted clean across, Loaded with all his arms, the yawning fosse.

CXXX.

The moat of thirty feet, not less, he cleared, As dexterously as leaps the greyhound fleet, Nor at his lighting louder noise was heard Than if he had worn felt beneath his feet. He now of this , now that , the mantle sheared; As though of pewter, not of iron beat, Or rather of soft rind their arms had been: So matchless was his force and sword so keen!

CXXXI.

This while, not idle, those of ours had laid Snares in the inner moat, a well-charged mine: Where broom and thick fascines, all over paid With swarthy pitch, in plenty intertwine. Yet is not this by any eye surveyed, Though they from bank to bank that hollow line, Filling the bottom well-nigh to the brink; And countless vessels the defenders sink,

CXXXII.

Charged with salt-petre, oil, or sulphur pale, One and the other, or with such like gear; While ours, intent the paynims that assail The town, should pay their daring folly dear, (Who from the ditch on different parts would scale The inner bulwark’s platform) when they hear The appointed signal which their comrades raise, Set, at fit points, the wildfire in a blaze.

CXXXIII.

For that the moat was full from side to side, The scattered flames united into one, And mounted to such height, they well-nigh dried The watery bosom of the moon; a dun And dismal cloud above extending wide, Dimmed every glimpse of light, and hid the sun: A fearful crash, with a continued sound, Like a long peal of thunder, shook the ground.

CXXXIV.

A horrid concert, a rude harmony Of deep lament, and yell and shriek, which came From those poor wretches in extremity, Perishing through their furious leader’s blame, Was heard, as in strange concord, to agree With the fierce crackling of the murderous flame. No more of this, no more!—Here, sir, I close My canto, hoarse, and needing short repose.

NOTES TO CANTO XIV.

And if unconquered Duke Alphonso, &c .

Stanza ii. line 3.

Alphonso of Este, duke of Ferrara; to whom the poet attributes the victory and subsequent capture of Ravenna, held for the pope by Fabrizio Colonna, the struggle being between French and Italians under this leader, and Spaniards and Italians under the command of Gaston de Foix; for, the French troops having given way, Alphonso coming up with a band of gentlemen, again turned the fortune of the field.

Who on that day deserved you should accord, For honoured gifts, the gilded spurs and sword .

Stanza iii. lines 7 and 8.

The insignia of knighthood conferred by Alphonso upon many of his young followers on the field of battle. ‘To win his spurs’ was almost a proverbial expression; how applied to the Black Prince by our Edward III. every one will remember.

You, with such glorious hearts, who were not flow To follow, nor far off, the gorgeous oak Seized, and shook down the golden acorns so, And so the red and yellow truncheon broke, That we to you our festive laurels owe, And the fair lily, rescued from its stroke; Another wreath may round your temples bloom, In that Fabricius you preserved to Rome .

Stanza iv.

The golden oak was the bearing of Pope Julius II. who lost Ravenna; and the red and yellow truncheon, we are told, is to be considered as the symbol of Spain.

Fabrizio Colonua surrendered to Alphonso on condition he should not be delivered up to his enemies the French; Alphonso resisted their solicitations to consign him to them, and afterwards set him free and restored him to the pope.

Rome’s mighty column, by your valiant hand Taken and kept entire, &c .

Stanza v. lines 1 and 2.

In the original,

La gran colonna del nome Romano Che voi prendeste e che serbaste intera,

a play upon the name of Fabrizio Colonna, which is necessarily sacrificed in an English translation.

The loss of that French captain and our chief .

Stanza vi. line 3.

Of Gaston de Foix, the French general, who perished in the field.

That saved us from that wintry tempest drear, Which would have whelmed us from Jove’s angry sky .

Stanza vii. lines 3 and 4.

The allied Spanish and papal army, if victorious, would probably have turned their anus against the dukedom of Ferrara.

Hadst thou not made resistance to thy foe, Setter, Ravenna, had it been for thee, And thou been warned by Brescia’s fate, than so Thine should Faenza warn and Rimini. O Lewis, bid good old Trivulzio go With thine, and to thy bands example be, And tell what ills such license still has bred, Heaping our ample Italy with dead .

Stanza ix.

Brescia was sacked a short time before Ravenna. The fate of this last city terrified Faenza and Rimini into a surrender.

Trivulzio may have been well fitted to restrain the excesses of others, but was not himself free from a similar reproach. He was a native of Milan, and banished from thence for his adherence to the Guelph party. He entered the service of France, and obtained great distinction in the wars of Charles VIII. Louis XII. and Francis I. He was made governor of Milan in 1500, and of Genoa in 1504. But he is accused of a rapacious administration of power, and of a haughty, ungovernable temper, and on this account forfeited the favour of Francis; which is said to have occasioned his death in 1518. His epitaph speaks his character.

‘ qui nunquam requievit, hic tandem quiescit .’

Ariosto’s wish to see him at the head of the French troops might be founded on the maxim, ‘Nemo nisi Romanus Romanum feriat.’

Marsilius first, and after Agramant, &c .

Stanza xi. line 1.

Ariosto is not more successful than Homer in this catalogue, and the same observation may be made on the review of Tasso, which is only animated by his apostrophe to the Greeks. He has done much better, it is true, in his second catalogue, the production of his riper age (see canto xvi. of the Jerusalem Delivered); but a modern author has succeeded yet better, and the description of the Scottish troops in Marmion, in my opinion, ranks above every attempt of this description.

As a key to the present catalogue, I should observe that Ariosto uses ancient and modern names indiscriminately, as serves his purpose best. Such is, indeed, his usual practice, as may have been already observed, and an example of it occurs in the third stanza of this very canto.

Quando cedendo Morini e Piccardi L’esercito Normanno e l’ Aquitano .

Whom when the cloudy sun his rays withdrew Beneath the Centaur and the Goat, &c .

Stanza xxv. lines 5 and 6.

In the original,

Che mentre il sol fu nubiloso sotto Il gran Centauro e i corui orridi e fieri.

It is hardly necessary to observe that Sagittarius is the sign into which Chiron is said to have been translated, and is, therefore, always represented by a Centaur. “I corni orridi e fieri,” Mr. Huggins, the most accurate of Ariosto’s translators, imagines to be those of the Bull, but he is certainly wrong. The poet, wishing to mark the stormy season of November, says that Rodomont went to Africa when the sun was under Sagittarius; and ‘the fierce and horrid horns,’ by which he evidently meant to indicate those of Capricorn or the Goat, the sign into which the sun passes on quitting Sagittarius, indicating thus a part of November, all December, and the greatest part of January.

But him had glorified above the rest Worth in the Syrian fairy’s castle shown .

Stanza xxxi. lines 3 and 4.

The account of the conquest of the arms of Hector in the Syrian fairy’s castle is to be found in the Innamorato, where Mandricardo takes the oath specified in the text.

And in the middle of the mead surveyed Doralice ( such the gentle lady’s name ), &c .

Stanza l. lines 1 and 2.

Ariosto would appear to have sometimes inserted anecdotes of his age in the Furioso; but these are usually so altered that they are scarcely to be recognised. This is not the case with the present story, the rape of Doralice; in which the poet appears to have figured a similar atrocity and of recent occurrence, perpetrated by Cæsar Borgia, near Cesenna, on the shore of the Adriatic, upon an illustrious lady espoused to a Venetian captain, to whom she was journeying, under the escort of a train of nobles and ladies, who were attacked with the same violence that is described in the text. Fornari cites many circumstances in support of Ariosto’s having meant to designate the crime of Borgia in that of Mandricardo. Some of these, such as the resemblance of the place where the scene of the catastrophe is laid, are strongly corroborative of the supposition, and others again seem to savour of the perverse and wearisome subtleties of an Italian commentator.

She might a Gabriel seem who Ave said .

Stanza lxxxvii. line 4.

Dante says of this angel, whose figure is represented as sculptured in purgatory,

‘ Giurato si sarìa ch’ ei dicesse Ave .’

Probably as saluting the Virgin, a favourite subject with the Italian masters.

And whilom in the schools long time did pass, With sage Archytas and Pythagoras .

Stanza lxxxviii. lines 7 and 8.

Archytas was a native of Tarentum, and friend and cotemporary of Plato.

In blest Arabia lies a pleasant vale .

Stanza xcii. line 1.

Ariosto had probably an eye to Ovid’s description:

Est prope Cimmerios longo spelunca recessu, &c.

Or watch at midnight with how many eyes The furtive works of lovers Heaven espies .

Stanza xcix. lines 7 and 8.

Aut quam sidera multa, cum tacet nox, Furtivos hominum vident amores.

Catullus .

The larum-bells, loud-sounding through the air, Stricken with frequent blows, the town affray .

Stanza c. lines 1 and 2.

Bells were all formerly stricken, as even small bells still are in shops, in some parts of the continent.

As swarming to assail the pastoral bowl, &c .

Stanza cix. line 1.

Ariosto, who was no Greek scholar, would, however, seem to have derived this simile from Homer ; probably through the medium of a Latin versified abridgment of the Iliad, which was in his time popular in Italy.

Nor idle lie the fiery hoops in store, &c .

Stanza cxii. line 5.

Vertot describes the Maltese as casting hoops charged with wild-fire among the Turks at the famous siege: it is said, without any authority for the fact, for which he was perhaps indebted to Ariosto.

Nor Rodomont to Nimrod yields in might, Proud and untamed; and who would not forbear To scale the lofty firmament till night, Could he in this wide world descry the stair .

Stanza cxix. lines 1, 2, 3, 4.

In the original,

Rodomonte non già men di Nembrotte, Indomito, superbo, e furibondo; Chè d’ire al ciel non tarderebbe a notte, Quando la strada si trovasse al mondo, &c.

Meaning that Rodomont was of so daring a character that he would not wait for night to cover such a mad enterprise, but would achieve it in the face of day.

The wild-swine of our own Mallea goes, &c .

Stanza cxx. line 4.

A marshy place in the Ferrarese.

Rodomont has no sooner gained the shore, Than on the wooden bartizan he stands, Within the city walls, a bridge that bore (Roomy and large) king Charles’s Christian bands .

Stanza cxxi. lines 1, 2, 3, 4.

In the original,

Non si tosto a l’ asciutto è Rodomonte Che giunto si sentì su le bertesche Che dentro a la muraglia facean ponte, Capace e largo, a le squadre Francesche, &c.

As Ariosto, no doubt, took his details from the sieges of his day, I should wish, if possible, to illustrate whatever appears to require explanation in the present narrative. The bertesca , or bertrescha , in question, appears to have different meanings in different places, and is usually accompanied with different interpretations in the dictionaries. Its best definition would seem to be a wooden and moveable bartizan , not confined, like our stone-bartizans, to the platform between the towers of a gateway, but placed occasionally between towers or battlements of any description or extent; and one of the explanations of the term to be found in dictionaries will show its precise meaning in this place; to wit , that it was a stage, moving upon hinges, within the wall of a fortification, which being raised to a horizontal position, served as a mean of communication between the towers, and made the bridge spoken of by Ariosto.

The perishable nature of this bertesca , though it would explain its not being to be found in any of our old castles, does not account for its not being mentioned (and it is not , as far as I am informed) by any of the French or English chroniclers. Can we explain this, by supposing the Italians to have been better engineers than their northern neighbours, and to have resorted to means of defence unknown to them? Perhaps this may be the solution of the difficulty.

Referring to Grassi’s Military Dictionary, I find bertresca with bertesca defined in a mode which will not accord with the present use of it. But though his Dictionary is a very useful work, he is not to be implicitly relied on, for he does not cite his authorities ; which, indeed, would not always have given much weight to his assertions; he often borrowing terms from modern authors who were the inventors of these Italian equivalents for French or German modes of expression. Thus he gives caval’armato for a heavy horse, and pernottare for to bivouac; yet he could, I believe, cite no earlier writer as the user of these words than Foscolo, in his translation of the Memoirs of Montecucoli. In point of fact, ancient Italy, notwithstanding her aversion to the naturalization of foreign words, has always given citizenship to foreign terms of warlike art, and the few Teutonic words which she received from her barbarous conquerors, such as guerra and brando , are of this description. It must always be so. Nations must receive terms of art in sciences in which they are themselves deficient, and of things which are new to them from their invaders. This has been observed in our own language, in which the live beast is known by a Saxon name, but when prepared for food, by a French denomination; and an ingenious gentleman, who (it is to be, hoped) will sometime or other publish his speculations on such subjects, has, upon this principle, explained one of the oddest anomalies in our language, to wit , that of a husband and wife in the same rank of our nobility, being dignified one by a Saxon, and the other by a French title of honour. I of course allude to the words earl and countess , the origin of the application of which terms he thus explains. The Norman count standing in the place of the Anglo-Saxon earl, being called to the discharge of his offices, and mixing necessarily with the original inhabitants, succeeded to his appellation; but his wife, keeping her state at home, and being altogether a personage for which there was no home equivalent, succeeded in maintaining her native title.

But I am deviating from the line of illustration which I had prescribed to myself.

The crowd by Rodomont of Sarza led, &c .

Stanza cxxvi. line 1.

I have translated the account of this storm very literally; and it is curious, as probably exhibiting the modes of attack and defence practised in the time of Ariosto; who, however, by omitting to state specifically what is nevertheless to be inferred from the narrative, has rendered his description, at first sight, somewhat obscure, a charge to which he is seldom open. It appears, to sum his story in a few words, that the wall on the side where the Moors attacked was surrounded by a wet ditch, through which Rodomont plunged at the head of the storming party, scaled the wall, and carried the bertesca , or wooden platform, placed within it and near its summit. Beyond this work, it seems, was a second wall, or dyke, divided from the first by a dry ditch, into which Rodomont drives his party of assailants, urging them to the assault of the interior wall, and he himself leaping the ditch, and, like Alexander at the siege of Oxydracæ, mounting the last defence, and springing from it into the city. His followers, in the meantime, while planting their ladders against the interior wall in this second moat, are consumed by combustibles, with which it had been previously filled by the Parisians. Rodomont, it is to be recollected, had escaped the effects of the explosion by his desperate leap, and is left enclosed in the middle of the city.

Errata

Layout 2

THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.

CANTO XV.

ARGUMENT.

Round about Paris every where are spread

The assailing hosts of Africa and Spain.

Astolpho home by Logistilla sped,

Binds first Caligorantes with his chain;

Next from Orrilo’s trunk divides the head;

With whom Sir Aquilant had warred in vain,

And Grypha bold: next Sarconet discerns.

Ill tidings of his lady Grypha learns.

THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.

CANTO XV.

I.

Though Conquest fruit of skill or fortune be, To conquer always is a glorious thing, ’Tis true, indeed, a bloody victory Is to a chief less honour wont to bring; And that fair field is famed eternally, And he who wins it merits worshipping, Who, saving from all harm his own, without Loss to his followers, puts the foe to rout.

I.

You, sir, earned worthy praise, when you o’erbore The lion of such might by sea, and so Did by him, where he guarded either shore From Francolino to the mouth of Pò, That I, though yet again I heard him roar, If you were present, should my fear forego. How fields are fitly won was then made plain; For we were rescued, and your foemen slain .

III.

This was the Paynim little skilled to do, Who was but daring to his proper loss; And to the moat impelled his meiny, who One and all perished in the burning fosse. The mighty gulf had not contained the crew, But that, devouring those who sought to cross, Them into dust the flame reduced, that room Might be for all within the crowded tomb.

IV.

Of twenty thousand warriors thither sent, Died nineteen thousand in the fiery pit; Who to the fosse descended, ill content; But so their leader willed, of little wit: Extinguished amid such a blaze, and spent By the devouring flame the Christians lit. And Rodomont, occasion of their woes, Exempted from the mighty mischief goes:

V.

For he to the inner bank, by foes possest, Across the ditch had vaulted wonderously: Had he within it been, among the rest, It sure had been his last assault. His eye He turns, and when the wild-fires, which infest The infernal vale, he sees ascend so high, And hears his people’s moan and dying screams, With imprecations dread he Heaven blasphemes.

VI.

This while a band King Agramant had brought, To make a fierce assault upon a gate: For while the cruel battle here was fought, Wherein so many sufferers met their fate, This haply unprovided had he thought With fitting guard. Upon the monarch wait King Bambirago, ’mid his knights of price, And Baliverso, sink of every vice;

VII.

And Corineus of Mulga, Prusion, The wealthy monarch of the blessed isles; Malabuferzo, he who fills the throne Of Fez, where a perpetual summer smiles; And other noble lords, and many a one Well-armed and tried; and others ’mid their files, Naked, and base, whose hearts in martial fields Had found no shelter from a thousand shields.

VIII.

But all things counter to the hopes ensue Of Agramant upon this side; within, In person, girded by a gallant crew, Is Charlemagne, with many a paladin: Ogier the Dane, King Salamon, the two Guidos are seen, and either Angelin; Bavaria’s duke , and Ganelon are here, Avino, Avolio, Otho, and Berlinghier:

IX.

And of inferior count withal, a horde Of Lombards, French, and Germans, without end; Who, every one, in presence of his lord, To rank among the valiantest contend. This will I in another place record; Who here a mighty duke perforce attend, Who signs to me from far, and prays that I Will not omit him in my history.

X.

’Tis time that I should measure back my way Thither, where I Astolpho left of yore; Who, in long exile, loathing more to stay, Burnt with desire to tread his native shore; As hopes to him had given the sober fay, Who quelled Alcina by her better lore, She with all care would send the warrior back By the securest and the freest track.

XI.

And thus by her a barque is fitted out; —A better galley never ploughed the sea; And Logistilla wills, for aye in doubt Of hindrance from Alcina’s treachery, That good Andronica, with squadron stout, And chaste Sophrosina, with him shall be, Till to the Arabian Sea, beneath their care, Or to the Persian Gulf he safe repair.

XII.

By Scyth and Indian she prefers the peer Should coast, and by the Nabatæan reign; Content he, after such a round, should veer For Persian gulf, or Erithræan main, Rather than for that Boreal palace steer, Where angry winds aye vex the rude domain: So ill, at seasons, favoured by the sun, That there, for months together, light is none.

XIII.

Next, when she all in readiness espied, Her license to depart the prudent fay Accorded to the duke, first fortified With counsel as to things too long to say; And that he might no more by charms be stayed In place from whence he could not wend his way, Him with a useful book and fair purveyed, And ever for her love to wear it prayed.

XIV.

How man should guard himself from magic cheats The book instructed, which the fay bestowed; At the end or the beginning, where it treats Of such, an index and appendix showed. Another gift, which in its goodly feats All other gifts excelled, to her he owed; This was a horn, which made whatever wight Should hear its clang betake himself to flight .

XV.

I say, the horn is of such horrid sound, That, wheresoe’er ’tis heard, all fly for fear; Nor in the world is one of heart so sound That would not fly, should he the bugle hear. Wind, thunder, and the shock which rives the ground, Come not, in aught, the hideous clangour near. With thanks did the good Englishman receive The gift, and of the fairy took his leave.

XVI.

Quitting the port and smoother waves, they stand To sea, with favouring wind which blows astern; And (coasting) round the rich and populous land Of odoriferous Ind the vessels turn, Opening a thousand isles on either hand, Scattered about that sea, till they discern The land of Thomas; here the pilot veers His ready tiller, and more northward steers .

XVII.

Astolpho, furrowing that ocean hoar, Marks, as he coasts, the wealthy land at ease. Ganges amid the whitening waters roar, Nigh skirting now the golden Chersonese; Taprobana with Cori next, and sees The frith which chafes against its double shore; Makes distant Cochin, and with favouring wind Issues beyond the boundaries of Ind .

XVIII.

Scouring at large broad ocean, with a guide So faithful and secure, the cavalier Questions Andronica, if from that side Named from the westering sun, of this our sphere, Bark, which with oars or canvas stemmed the tide, On eastern sea was wonted to appear; —And could a wight, who loosed from Indian strand, Reach France or Britain, without touching land.

XIX.

Andronica to England’s duke replies: “Know that this earth is girt about with seas, “And all to one another yield supplies, “Whether the circling waters boil or freeze: “But, since the Æthiops’ land before us lies, “Extending southward many long degrees, “Across his waters, some one has supposed “A barrier here to Neptune interposed.

XX.

“Hence bark from this Levant of Ind is none “Which weighs, to shape her course for Europe’s shore; “Nor navigates from Europe any one, “Our Oriental regions to explore; “Fain to retrace alike the course begun “By the mid land, extending wide before: “Weening (its limits of such length appear) “That it must join another hemisphere.

XXI.

“But in the course of circling years I view “From farthest lands which catch the western ray, “New Argonauts put forth, and Tiphys new “Opening, till now an undiscovered way. “Others I see coast Afric, and pursue “So far the negroes’ burning shore, that they “Pass the far sign, from whence, on his return, “The sun moves hither, leaving Capricorn ;

XXII.

“And find the limit of this length of land, “Which makes a single sea appear as two; “Who, scouring in their frigates every strand, “Pass Ind and Arab isles, or Persian through: “Others I see who leave, on either hand, “The banks, which stout Alcides cleft in two, “And in the manner of the circling sun, “To seek new lands and new creations run.

XXIII.

“The imperial flags and holy cross I know, “Fixed on the verdant shore; see some upon “The shattered barks keep guard, and others go “A-field, by whom new countries will be won; “Ten chase a thousand of the flying foe, “Realms beyond Ind subdued by Arragon; “And see all, wheresoe’er the warriors wend, “To the fifth Charles’ triumphant captains bend.