CXXVII.

With many armed men that baron fares, And to the city-gate descending, here Collects his troop, and for the attempt prepares, Waiting the coming of the cavalier; And him surprises so at unawares, He, softly, ’twixt two bridges, takes the peer; And him detains, with mockery and scorn, In a dark chamber, till returning morn.

CXXVIII.

The early sun had scarce his golden hair Uplifted from his ancient nurse’s breast, Beginning, upon Alpine regions bare, To chase the shades and gild the mountain-crest, When Martan’, fearing Gryphon might declare His wrong, and to the king the truth attest, Retorting upon him the slander cast, Took leave, and thence upon his journey past.

CXXIX.

His ready wit a fit excuse supplies Why he stays not, to see the recreant shown. He is with other gifts, beside the prize, Rewarded for the victory, not his own, And letters patent, drawn in ample wise, Wherein his lofty honours wide are blown. Let him depart; I promise he shall meet A guerdon worthy of his treacherous feat.

CXXX.

Gryphon is brought with shame into the square, When it is fully thronged with gazing wight, Whom they of cuirass and of helmet bare, And leave in simple cassock, meanly dight; And, as to slaughter he conducted were, Place on a wain, conspicuous to the sight; Harnessed to which two sluggish cows are seen, Weary and weak, and with long hunger lean.

CXXXI.

Thronging about the ignoble car, appear Brazen-faced boy and girl of evil fame, Who, each in turn, will play the charioteer, And all assail the knight with bitter blame. The boys might be a cause of greater fear, For, joined to mocks and mows, and words of shame, The warrior they with volleyed stones would slay, But that the wiser few their fury stay.

CXXXII.

That which of his disgrace had been the ground, Though no true evidence of guilt, his mail And plate, are dragged in due dishonour round, Suspended at the shameful waggon’s tail. The wain is stopt, and to the trumpet’s sound, Heralds, in front of a tribunal’s pale, His shame, before his eyes, amid the crowd, (Another’s evil deed) proclaim aloud.

CXXXIII.

They take their prisoner thence, and so repair In front of temple, dwelling-house, and store; Nor any cruel name of mockery spare, Nor leave unsaid a word of filthy lore; And him at last without the city bear: The foolish rabble, trusting evermore Their thrall to banish to the sound of blows, Who passing little of its prisoner knows.

CXXXIV.

The warrior’s gyves no sooner they undo, And from their manacles free either hand, Than Gryphon seizes shield and sword, and, through The rabble, makes long furrows with his brand. With pike and spear unfurnished was the crew, Who without weapons came, a witless band. The rest for other canto I suspend, For, sir, ’tis time this song should have an end.

NOTES TO CANTO XVII.

And marble column, slab, and gilded beam, By sire and grandsire held in high esteem .

Stanza x. lines 7 and 8.

Auratasque trabes, veterum decora alta parentum.

Virgil .

Like to a serpent, &c .

Stanza xi. line 3.

Qualis ubi in lucem coluber, &c.

See Virgil’s description of Pyrrhus in the storm of Troy, of which this stanza is a free translation.

And hugged the door-post and the genial bed .

Stanza xiii. line 5.

So Virgil,

At domus interior gemitu miseroque tumultu

Miscetur, penitusque cavæ plangoribus ædes

Fœmineis ululant; ferit aurea sidera clamor.

Tum pavidæ tectis matres ingentibus errant,

Amplexæque tenent postes, atque oscula figunt.

An example of such passionate action, which may appear unnatural to many, was in modern times furnished by the late king and queen of Naples, under circumstances of less excitement, who, when restored by Lord Nelson, ran about their palace at Naples, kissing and embracing the doors.

“ Are you not those that erst with me did stand “ ’ Gainst Agolant in Aspramont? In you “ Is vigour note so spent, (he said) the band, “ Who him, Troyano, and Almontes slew .

Stanza xiv. lines 3, 4, 5, 6.

These are all events described iu the romances anterior to the Innamorato, and many of which are referred to in that poem.

Then the high-street gay signs of triumph wore, Covered with showy cloths of different dye, Which deck the walls, while sylvan leaves in store, And scented herbs upon the pavement lie .

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

Every one who has been on the continent, and indeed every one who is conversant with old paintings, may acquire a general idea of such a picture; but it is necessary to have been in Italy to form to oneself a perfect notion of the details of these scenes, in which Ariosto seems so particularly to delight. So studiously elegant are the townspeople of some parts of the Italian peninsula, that at an annual festival held at a burgh near Rome, where the pavement, as in Damascus, is strewed with foliage, beautiful centre-pieces for this green ground are composed with leaves of rich flowers on thin deal planks, and inserted in it at such intervals as to produce the effect of figured carpeting. Ariosto paints these scenes in the true spirit of an Italian.

But as we scoured the fell Carpathian sea .

Stanza xxvii. line 1.

Carpathium, an island between Rhodes and Crete, gave its name to the neighbouring sea.

“ To calculate the griesly monster’s height, “ (So measureless is he) exceeds all skill; “ Of fungus-hue, in place of orbs of sight, “ Their sockets two small bones like berries fill .

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

I have observed, in a former note, that an orc in Ariosto seems intended to convey the idea of some monster like a buggaboo , whose genus and form are not defined by the name. In the tale of Olympia the orc is a sort of whale. Here he is a Cyclops, in consistence with the account given of him in a story of the Innamorato, of which this episode is a continuation. It may be remarked, however, that Ariosto, in concluding this story, has given him the addition of two make-believe eyes, and has thus shown another proof of his feeling for picture, conforming to the practice of painters, who (as Mr. Uvedale Price observes in his delightful Essay on the Picturesque) ‘have marked the sockets of the two eyes of the Cyclops, probably from finding, that, when the whole space between the brow and the cheek was filled up, the face lost its form, and became a shapeless lump.’

For the orc on flesh of woman never fed .

Stanza xl. line 8.

‘The poet took this custom of the orc from the cannibals,’ says an Italian commentator; but I am ignorant upon what authority he grounds his assertion. On the contrary, one of the fathers talks about certain ancient cannibals, who more especially preferred feeding upon the flesh of woman to that of man.

Till Fortune brought A pair of warriors to the rocky won, Gradasso, and Agrican’s redoubted son .

Stanza lxii. lines 6, 7, 8.

See the Innamorato for this as well as the preceding incidents.

One told, by colours cunningly allied, His joy or sorrow to his lady gay; One, with a painted Love on crest or shield, If she were cruel or were kind revealed .

Stanza lxxii. lines 5, 6, 7, 8.

I have already remarked upon the emblematic significance of colours among the Europeans during the middle ages. Ariosto, like the romancers, represents this fashion as prevalent also among the Mahometans; but he, with his usual care, explains this ingeniously in the next stanza, where he says that

Haply this sprung out of their vicinage And commerce with the Franks:

And the same cause he has supposed, actually did produce the same effect in similar circumstances; the Moors of Spain adopting these, and many similar gallantries, from their Christian neighbours.

It may be remarked that the Eastern nations had, and have still a usage of the same nature, in the practice of intimating their feelings by hieroglyphical flowers. Such customs are probably more or less prevalent among all people in a similar stage of civilization, in the absence of more precise means of expressing themselves.

Thou Spain, hast thou not fruitful Afric nigh?

Stanza lxxvi. line 1.

He alludes to the enterprize against Africa, undertaken and abandoned by Charles V.

Brought off the choicest, gave away the rest .

Stanza lxxviii. line 4.

It is hardly necessary to observe, that when Constantine transferred the seat of empire to Constantinople, the riches left by him formed the endowment of the Latin Church. Ariosto is here evidently indulging in one of his quiet sneers; for, though a catholic, he was no more a papist than Dante, who has recorded his sentiments in the famous

‘Ahi! Costantin di quanto mal fu madre Non tua conversion, ma quella dote, Che da te prese il primo ricco padre!'

‘Ah! Constantine, how bitterly we rue, Not thy conversion, but that evil dower, Which erst from thee the first rich father drew!’

Nor that country blest, Which many tales for many praises note, If thou wouldst thither wend, is too remote .

Stanza lxxviii. lines 6, 7, 8.

What particular country in this Eastern land of fable is designated, is at least not obvious; but the Italian commentators who write notes to say that Libya means Africa, &c. have thrown no light upon the passage.

Thou mighty Lion, &c .

Stanza lxxix. line 1.

Pope Leo X. This piece of bad taste, the characterizing men by their names or armoric symbols, seems to have originated in Dante. His can della scala transformed into a greyhound ( veltro ) is a notorious instance of this; which is a common sin in the ancient Italians.

Layout 2

THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.

CANTO XVIII.

ARGUMENT.

Gryphon is venged. Sir Mandricardo goes

In search of Argier’s king. Charles wins the fight.

Marphisa Norandino’s men o’erthrows.

Due pains Mariano’s cowardice requite.

A favouring wind Marphisa’s galley blows,

For France with Gryphon bound and many a knight.

The field Medoro and Cloridano tread,

And find their monarch Dardinello dead.

THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.

CANTO XVIII.

I.

High minded lord! your actions evermore I have with reason lauded, and still laud; Though I with style inapt, and rustic lore, You of large portion of your praise defraud: But, of your many virtues, one before All others I with heart and tongue applaud, —That, if each man a gracious audience finds, No easy faith your equal judgment blinds.

II.

Often, to shield the absent one from blame, I hear you this, or other, thing adduce; Or him you let, at least, an audience claim, Where still one ear is open to excuse: And before dooming men to scaith and shame, To see and hear them ever is your use; And ere you judge another, many a day, And month, and year, your sentence to delay.

III.

Had Norandine been with your care endued, What he by Gryphon did, he had not done. Profit and fame have from your rule accrued: A stain more black than pitch he cast upon His name: through him, his people were pursued And put to death by Olivero’s son; Who at ten cuts or thrusts, in fury made, Some thirty dead about the waggon laid.

IV.

Whither fear drives, in rout, the others all, Some scattered here, some there, on every side, Fill road and field; to gain the city-wall Some strive, and smothered in the mighty tide, One on another, in the gateway fall. Gryphon, all thought of pity laid aside, Threats not nor speaks, but whirls his sword about, Well venging on the crowd their every flout.

V.

Of those who to the portal foremost fleed, The readiest of the crowd their feet to ply, Part, more intent upon their proper need Than their friends’ peril, raise the draw-bridge high: Part, weeping and with deathlike visage, speed, Nor turn their eyes behind them as they fly: While, through the ample city, outcry loud, And noise, and tumult rises from the crowd.

VI.

Two nimble Gryphon seizes, mid the train, When to their woe the bridge is raised; of one, Upon the field the warrior strews the brain, Which he beats out on a hard grinding stone; Seized by the breast, the other of the twain Over the city-wall by him is thrown. Fear chills the townsmen’s marrow, when they spy The luckless wretch descending from the sky.

VII.

Many there were who feared in their alarms, Lest o’er the wall Sir Gryphon would have vaulted; Nor greater panic seized upon those swarms, Than if the soldan had the town assaulted. The sound of running up and down, of arms, Of cry of Muezzins, on high exalted; Of drums and trumpets, heaven, ’twould seem, rebounded, And, that the world was by the noise confounded.

VIII.

But I will to another time delay, What chanced on this occasion, to recount. ’Tis meet I follow Charles upon his way, Hurrying in search of furious Rodomont, Who did the monarch’s suffering people slay. I said, with him, the danger to affront, Went Namus, Oliver, the Danish peer , Avino, Avolio, Otho, and Berlinghier.

IX.

Eight lances’ shock, that eight such warriors guide, Which all at once against the king they rest, Endured the stout and scaly serpent’s hide, In which the cruel Moor his limbs had drest. As a barque rights itself,—the sheet untied, Which held its sail,—by growing wind opprest; So speedily Sir Rodomont arose, Though a hill had been uprooted by the blows.

X.

Rainier and Guido, Richard, Salomon, Ivan, Ughetto, Turpin, and the twain— Angiolin, Angelier—false Ganellon, And Mark and Matthew from St. Michael’s plain, With the eight of whom I spake, all set upon The foe, with Edward and Sir Arimane; Who leading succours from the English shore, Had lodged them in the town short time before.

XI.

Not so, well-keyed into the solid stone, Groans upon Alpine height the castle good, When by rude Boreas’ rage or Eurus’ strown, Uptorn are ash and fir in mountain-wood, As groans Sir Rodomont, with pride o’erblown, Inflamed with anger and with thirst of blood: And, as the thunder and the lightning’s fire Fly coupled, such his vengeance and his ire.

XII.

He at his head took aim who stood most nigh; Ughetto was the miserable wight, Whom to the teeth he clove, and left to die; Though of good temper was his helmet bright. As well the others many strokes let fly At him, himself; which all the warrior smite, But harm (so hard the dragon’s hide) no more, Than needle can the solid anvil score.

XIII.

All the defences, round, abandoned are, The unpeopled city is abandoned all; For, where the danger is the greatest, there The many give their aid, at Charles’s call: Through every street they hurry to the square, Since flying nought avails, from work and wall. Their bosoms so the monarch’s presence warms, That each again takes courage, each takes arms.

XIV.

As when within the closely-fastened cage Of an old lioness, well used to fight, An untamed bull is prisoned, to engage The savage monster, for the mob’s delight; The cubs, who see him cresting in his rage, And round the den loud-bellowing, to the sight Of the huge beast’s enormous horns unused, Cower at a distance, timid and confused;

XV.

But if the mother spring at him, and hang, Fixing her cruel tusks into his ear, Her whelps as well will blood their greedy fang, And, bold in her defence, assail the steer: One bites his paunch, and one his back: so sprang That band upon the paynim cavalier. From roof and window, and from place more nigh, Poured in a ceaseless shower, the weapons fly.

XVI.

Of cavaliers and footmen such the squeeze, That hardly can the place the press contain: They cluster there as thick as swarming bees, Who thither from each passage troop amain. So that, were they unarmed, and with more ease Than stalks or turnips he could cleave the train, Ill Rodomont in twenty days would clear The gathering crowd, united far and near.

XVII.

Unknowing how himself from thence to free , The paynim by this game is angered sore, Who little thins the gathering rabblery, Staining the ground with thousands slain or more; And all the while, in his extremity, Finds that his breath comes thicker than before; And sees he cannot pierce the hostile round, Unless he thence escape while strong and sound.

XVIII.

The monarch rolls about his horrid eyes, And sees that foes all outlets barricade; But, at the cost of countless enemies, A path shall quickly by his hand be made. Where Fury calls him, lo! the felon hies, And brandishes on high his trenchant blade, To assail the newly entered British band, Which Edward and Sir Ariman command.

XIX.

He who has seen the fence, in well-thronged square, (Against whose stakes the eddying crowd is born) By wild bull broken, that has had to bear, Through the long day, dogs, blows, and ceaseless scorn; Who hunts the scattered people here and there, And this, or that, now hoists upon his horn; Let him as such, or fiercer yet, account, When he breaks forth, the cruel Rodomont.

XX.

At one cross-blow fifteen or twenty foes He hews, as many leaves without a head, At cross or downright-stroke; as if he rows Trashes in vineyard or in willow-bed. At last all smeared with blood the paynim goes, Safe from the place, which he has heaped with dead; And wheresoe’er he turns his steps, are left Heads, arms, and other members, maimed and cleft.

XXI.

He from the square retires in such a mode, None can perceive that danger him appals; But, during this, what were the safest road, By which to sally, he to thought recals. He comes at last to where the river flowed Below the isle, and past without the walls. In daring men at arms and mob increase, Who press him sore, nor let him part in peace.

XXII.

As the high-couraged beast, whom hunters start In the wild Nomade or Massilian chace , Who, even in flying, shows his noble heart, And threatening seeks his lair with sluggish pace; From that strange wood of sword, and spear, and dart, Turns Rodomont, with action nothing base; And still impeded by the galling foe, Makes for the river with long steps and slow.

XXIII.

He turned upon the rabble-rout who bayed Behind him, thrice or more, by anger driven, And stained anew his falchion, by whose blade More than a hundred deadly wounds were given. But reason, finally, his fury stayed Before the bloody carnage stank to heaven ; And he, with better counsel, from the side Cast himself down into Seine’s foaming tide.

XXIV.

Athwart the current swam, with arms and all, As if by corks upborn, the cavalier. Though thou Antæus bred’st, and Hannibal, O Africa! thou never bred’st his peer!— When now across the stream, without the wall, He turned, and saw the royal town appear, —To have traversed all the city moved his ire, Leaving it undestroyed by sword or fire;

XXV.

And him so sorely anger stung and pride, Thither he thought a second time to go; And from his inmost bosom groaned and sighed, Nor would depart until he laid it low. But he saw one along the river-side Approach, who made him rage and hate forego; Strait shall you hear who ’twas, approached the king, But first I have to say of other thing.

XXVI.

I have of haughty Discord now to say, To whom the archangel Michael gave command, To heat to enmity and fierce affray The best of Agramant’s besieging band. She went that evening from the abbey gray, Her task committing to another’s hand; —Left it to Fraud to feed, till her return, The war, and make the fire she kindled burn;

XXVII.

And she believed, that she with greater power Should go, did Pride with her as well repair; And she (for all were guested in one bower) In search of her had little way to fare. Pride went with her; but, that in hall or tower, A vicar too her charge might duly bear, She for those days she absent thought to be, For her lieutenant left Hypocrisy .

XXVIII.

The implacable Discord went, and with the dame, (Companion of the enterprise, was Pride) Upon her road; and found that, by the same, Was journeying to the paynim camp, beside, Comfortless Jealousy, with whom there came A little dwarf, attending as a guide; Who erst had been sent forward with advice To Sarza’s king, by beauteous Doralice.

XXIX.

When she fell into Mandricardo’s hand, (I have before recounted when and where) She had in secret given the dwarf command, He to the king should with the tidings fare; By whom she hoped not vainly would be scanned The tale her messenger was charged to bear, But wonderous deeds be done for her relief, With sad and signal vengeance on the thief.

XXX.

Jealousy had that little dwarf espied, And kenned the reason of his mission too, And joined him, journeying with him side by side, Deeming that she therein a part might do. Discord, with pleasure, Jealousy descried, But with more joy, when she the occasion knew Which thither brought the dame, who much (she wist) Might in the task she had in hand assist.

XXXI.

Of means to embroil the Sarzan and the son Of Agrican , she deems herself possest. A certain mode to enrage these two is won; And other means may work upon the rest. She thither with the dwarfish page is gone, Where the fierce Pagan in his clutch had prest Proud Paris; and they reached the river-strand, Exactly as the felon swam to land.

XXXII.

As soon as the redoubted Rodomont Knew in the dwarf the courier of his dame, He all his rage extinguished, cleared his front, And felt his courage brighten into flame. All else he deems the courier may recount, Save that a wight had wrought him scaith and shame, And cries (encountering him with chearful brow) “How fares our lady? whither sent art thou?”

XXXIII.

“Nor mine nor thine that lady will I say, “Who is another’s thrall,” the dwarf replied. “We, on our road, encountered yesterday “A knight, who seized and bore away the bride.” Jealousy, upon this, took up the play, And, cold as asp, embraced the king: her guide Pursued his tale, relating how the train, Their mistress taken, by one man were slain.

XXXIV.

Her flint and steel, fell Discord, as he said, Took forth, and somewhile hammered on the stone. Pride, underneath, the ready tinder spread, And the quick fire was in a moment blown: This on the paynim’s soul so fiercely fed, He could not find a resting place: ’mid groan And sob he storms, with horrid face and eye, Which threat the elements and ample sky.

XXXV.

As tiger rages, who in vain descends Into her den, and finds herself alone, And, circling all the cavern, comprehends, At last, that her beloved young are gone; To ire, to rage like hers his wrath extends: Nor night the king regards, nor rock, nor stone, Nor stream: Nor length of way nor storm arrest The speed with which he on the plunderer prest.

XXXVI.

So raging, to the pigmy dwarf who bore The news, exclaimed the king, “Now hence away!” Nor horse he waits, nor carriage, nor, before Departing, deigns to his a word to say. He hurries with such speed, that not with more The lizard darts at noon across the way . Horse had he none, but be he whose he might, Would make his own the first which came in sight.

XXXVII.

Discord at this, who read his secret thought, Exclaimed, as she looked smilingly on Pride, ‘Through her he to a courser should be brought, ‘By which new cause of strife should be supplied; ‘And, that by him no other might be caught, ‘She from his path would keep all steeds beside; ‘And knew already where the prize to seek.’ —But her I leave, again of Charles to speak.

XXXVIII.

When, on the Saracen’s departure, spent, About King Charles, was the consuming flame, He ranged his troops anew: some warriors went To strengthen feeble posts which succours claim; The rest against the Saracens are sent, To give the foe checkmate and end the game; And from St. German’s to Saint Victor’s gates, He pours the host, which on his signal waits.

XXXIX.

He these at Saint Marcellus’ gate, where lay, Outstretched a large circumference of plain, Bade one another wait, in one array, To reunite against the paynim train. Inflaming every one to smite and slay, In guise, that for a record should remain, He made the various troops fall in below Their banners, and the battle-signal blow.

XL.

Agramant has remounted in his sell, While this is doing in his foe’s despite, And with the stripling who loved Isabel, Is waging perilous and fearful fight. Lurcanio with Sobrino strives as well; Rinaldo a troop encounters, whom the knight, With Valour and with Fortune for his guide, Charges, and breaks, and routs on every side.

XLI.

While so the battle stands, king Charlemagne Falls on the rear-guard of the paynim foe, Where bold Marsilius halts the flower of Spain, And forms the host, his royal flag below. On these king Charlemagne impels his train, Who, foot with horse to flank, against them go. While so the deafening drum and trumpet sounds, ’Twould seem the spacious world the din rebounds.

XLII.

The Saracenic squadrons had begun To bend, and all the army of the Moor Had turned, disordered, broken, and undone, Never to be arrayed or rallied more, But that Grandonio stood, and Falsiron, Tried oftentimes in greater ill before, With Serpentine and Balugantes proud, And the renowned Ferrau, who cried aloud:

XLIII.

“O valiant men,” he—“O companions,” cries, “O brethren, stand, and yet your place maintain; “Like cobweb-threads our cruel enemies “Will find their works, if we our part sustain. “What this day Fortune offers to our eyes, “If now we conquer, see the praise, the gain!— “If conquered, see the utter loss and shame “Which will for ever wait upon your name!”

XLIV.

He in this time a mighty lance had spanned, And spurred at once against Sir Berlinghier, Who Argaliffa guided with his hand, And broke his helmet’s frontal with the spear, Cast him on earth, and with the cruel brand Unhorsed perhaps eight other warriors near. His mighty strokes discharging, at each blow, He ever laid at least one horseman low.

XLV.

In other part, Rinaldo, in his mood, Has slain more enemies than I can say. Before the warlike knight no order stood; You might have seen the ample camp give way. No less Zerbino and Lurcanio good Do deeds, which will be told in every day: This , with a thrust, has bold Balastro slain, That Finaduro’s helm has cleft in twain.

XLVI.

The first was of the Alzerban army head, Ruled by Tardocco some short time before; The other one the valiant squadrons led Of Saphi, and Morocco, and Zamor. ‘Where, ’mid the paynims,’ might to me be said, ‘Is knight whose sword can cleave or lance can gore?’ But step by step I go, and as I wind My way, leave none who merits praise behind.

XLVII.

Zumara’s king is not forgotten here, Dardinel, who Sir Dulphin of the mount, Claude of the wood, and Hubert, with the spear, (Of Mirford he) and Elio did dismount, And, with the faulchion, Stamford’s cavalier, Sir Anselm, Raymond and Sir Pinnamont From London-town; though valiant were the twain; Two stunned, one wounded, the four others slain.

XLVIII.

Yet will his squadron not so firmly stand, Maugre the valour which his deeds display, So firmly, as to wait the Christian band, In number less, but steadier in array, More used to joust and manage of the brand, And all things appertaining to the fray. Setta and Morocco turned, and, seized with dread, Zumara and Canaries’ islesmen fled.

XLIX.

But faster than the rest Alzerba flies, Whom Dardinel opposed, and now with sore Reproach, and now with prayer he moves, and tries What best he deems their courage may restore. “If good Almontes has deserved,” he cries, “That you should by his memory set such store, “Now shall be seen—be seen, if you will me, “His son, abandon in such jeopardy.

L.

“For sake of my green youth, I pray you stand, “That youth whereon your hopes were wont to feed, “And suffer not that, scattered by the brand, “To Africa be lost our noble seed. “Save you united go, be sure the land “Is shut against you, wheresoe’er you speed. “Too high a wall to climb is mountain-steep, “The yawning sea a ditch too wide to leap.

LI.

“Far better ’tis to perish than to be “Torn by these dogs, or lie at their control. “Since vain is every other remedy, “Wait, friends, for love of Heaven, the advancing shoal: “They are not gifted with more lives than we; “Have but one pair of hands, have but one soul .” So saying, the bold youth, amid the crew Of enemies, the Earl of Huntley slew.

LII.

Almontes’ memory, through the Moorish bands, Makes every bosom with such ardour glow, They deem ’tis better to use arms and hands In fight, than turn their backs upon the foe. Taller than all William of Burnwich stands, An Englishman, whom Dardinel brings low, And equals with the rest; then smites upon, And cleaves, the head of Cornish Aramon .

LIII.

Down fell this Aramon, and to afford Him succour, thitherward his brother made; But from the shoulder him Zumara’s lord Cleft to the fork, with his descending blade; Next Bogio de Vergalla’s belly gored, And from his debt absolved (the forfeit paid) Who to return within six months, if life Were granted him, had promised to his wife.

LIV.

Lurcanio next met Dardinello’s eye; He upon earth Dorchino had laid low, Pierced through the throat, and hapless Gardo nigh Cleft to the teeth; at him, as all too slow, He from Altheüs vainly seeks to fly, Whom as his heart Lurcanio loves, a blow Upon his head behind the Scotchman speeds; And, slaughtered by the stroke, the warrior bleeds.

LV.

Dardinel, to avenge him, took a spear, And, should he lay the fierce Lurcanio dead, Vowed to his Mahomet, if he could hear, The mosque should have his empty arms: this said, Ranging the field in haste, that cavalier He in the flank, with thrust so full and dread, Encountered, that it went through either side: And he to his to strip the baron cried.

LVI.

From me it sure were needless to demand, If Ariodantes, when his brother fell, Was grieved; if he with his avenging hand Among the damned would send Sir Dardinell; But all access the circling troops withstand And bar, no less baptized than infidel: Yet would he venge himself, and with his blade, Now here, now there, an open passage made.

LVII.

He charges, chases, breaks, and overthrows Whoever cross him on the crowded plain; And Dardinello, who his object knows, Would fain the wish content; but him the train Impedes as well, which round about him flows, And renders aye his every purpose vain. If one on all sides thins the Moorish rank, The other slays Scot, Englishman, and Frank.

LVIII.

Fortune still blocked their path throughout the day, So that they met not, ’mid that chivalry, And kept one as a mightier champion’s prey; For rarely man escapes his destiny. Behold the good Rinaldo turns that way! That for this one no refuge there might be. Lo! good Rinaldo comes: him Fortune guides, And for his sword King Dardinel provides.

LIX.

But here enough for this one while is shown Of their illustrious doings in the west; ’Tis time I seek Sir Gryphon, and make known How he, with fury burning in his breast, That rabble-rout had broke and overthrown, Struck with more fear than ever men possest. Thither speeds Norandine on that alarm, And for his guard above a thousand arm.

LX.

King Norandino, girt with peer and knight, Seeing on every side the people fly, Rides to the gates, with squadron duly dight, And at his hest the portals open fly. Meanwhile Sir Gryphon, having put to flight The weak and worthless rabble far and nigh, The scorned arms (to keep him from that train), Such as they were, took up and donned again.

LXI.

And nigh a temple strongly walled, and round Whose base a moat for its protection goes, Upon a little bridge takes up his ground, That him his enemies may not enclose. Lo! loudly shouting, and with threatening sound, A mighty squadron through the gateway flows. The valiant Gryphon changes not his place, And shows how small his fear by act and face.

LXII.

But when, approaching near, he saw the band, He sallied forth to meet them by the way; And wielding still his sword in either hand, Made cruel havoc in the close array. Then on the narrow bridge resumed his stand, Nor there his hunters only held at bay: Anew he sallied, and returned anew, Aye leaving bloody signs when he withdrew.

LXIII.

Fore-stroke and back he deals, and on the ground Horsemen and foot o’erthrows on every side: This while the ample mob the knight surround, And more and more the warfare rages wide. At length Sir Gryphon fears he shall be drowned, (So waxed their numbers) in the increasing tide; And hurt in the left shoulder, through his mail, And thigh, his wind as well begins to fail.

LXIV.

But Valour, who so oft befriends her own, Makes him find grace in Norandino’s eyes; Who, while alarmed, he hurries there, o’erthrown So many men, such heaps of dead espies, While he views wounds, which Hector’s hand alone He weens could deal, to him all testifies That he had put an undeserved shame Upon a cavalier of mighty name.

LXV.

Next seeing him more near, whose falchion’s sweep Had dealt such deaths amid his chivalry, And raised about himself that horrid heap, And stained the water with that bloody dye, He thought that he beheld Horatius keep, Singly, the bridge against all Tuscany ; And vext, and anxious to remove the stain, Recalled his men, and that with little pain.

LXVI.

And, lifting his bare hand, in sign affied, From ancient times, of treaty and of truce, Repenting him, he to Sir Gryphon cried, “It grieves me sorely, and I cannot choose “But own my sin: let counsels which misguide, “And my own little wit, such fault excuse. “What by the vilest knight I thought to do, “I to the best on earth have done in you.

LXVII.

“And though the bitter injuries and shame “That have to thee through ignorance been done, “Are equalled, and all cancelled by thy fame, “And merged, in truth, in glory thou hast won; “Whatever satisfaction thou canst claim, “Within my power or knowledge, count upon, “When I know how atonement may be made, “By city, castle, or by money paid.

LXVIII.

“Demand of me this kingdom’s moiety, “And from this day thou its possessor art, “Since not alone thy worth deserves this fee, “But merits, I with this should give my heart; “Then, pledge of faith and lasting love, to me, “In the meanwhile, thy friendly hand impart.” So saying, from his horse the king descended, And towards Gryphon his right-hand extended.

LXIX.

When he beheld the monarch’s altered cheer, Who bent to clasp his neck, towards him paced, His sword and rancour laid aside, the peer Him humbly underneath the hips embraced . King Norandine, who saw the sanguine smear Of his two wounds, bade seek a leech in haste; And bade them softly with the knight resort Towards the town, and lodge him in his court.

LXX.

Here, wounded, he remained some days before He could bear arms: but him, in the design Of seeking out Sir Aquilant once more. And good Astolpho, left in Palestine, I quit; they vainly did his path explore, After Sir Gryphon left the holy shrine, Through Solyma in every place of note, And many, from the Holy Land remote.

LXXI.

One and the other are alike to seek In the inquiry where the knight may use; But they encounter with the pilgrim-Greek, Who of false Origilla gives them news; Relating, as of her he haps to speak, That towards Antioch she her way pursues, By a new leman of that city charmed, Who her with fierce and sudden flame had warmed.

LXXII.

Aquilant asked him, if he had possest Sir Gryphon of the news to them conveyed, Who, hearing that he had , surmised the rest,— Where he was gone, and by what motive swayed: He followed Origille, was manifest, And had in quest of her for Antioch made, To take her from his rival, and with view On him some memorable scathe to do.

LXXIII.

Aquilant brooked not Gryphon such a feat, Without him, and alone, should thus assay, And took his armour and pursued his beat; But first besought the duke he would delay To visit France and his paternal seat, Till he from Antioch measured back his way. At Joppa he embarks, who deems by sea The better and securer way to be.

LXXIV.

From the south-east up-sprung so strong a breeze, And which for Gryphon’s galley blew so right, That the third day he Tyre’s famed city sees , And lesser Joppa quick succeeds to sight. By Zibellotto and Baruti flees, (Cyprus to larboard left) the galley light; From Tripoli to Tortosa shapes her way , And so to Lizza and Lajazzo’s bay.

LXXV.

From thence, towards the east the pilot veered Her ready tiller, prompt his course to scan; And straightway for the wide Orontes steered, And watched his time, and for the harbour ran. Aquilant, when his bark the margin neared, Bade lower the bridge, and issued, horse and man, In armour, and along the river wended, Up-stream, till he his way at Antioch ended.

LXXVI.

To inform himself of that Martano bent; And heard that he to Antioch was addrest, With Origilla, where a tournament Was to be solemnized by royal hest. To track whom Aquilant was so intent, Assured that Gryphon had pursued his quest, He Antioch left again that very day, But not by sea again would take his way.

LXXVII.

He towards Lidia and Larissa goes , —At rich Aleppo makes a longer stay. God, to make plain that he, even here, bestows On evil and on good their fitting pay, At a league’s distance from Mamuga, throws Martano in the avenging brother’s way, Martano travelling with the tourney’s prize, Displayed before his horse in showy wise.

LXXVIII.

Sir Aquilant believed, at the first show, His brother he in vile Martano spied; For arms and vest, more white than virgin snow, The coward in the warrior’s sight belied, And sprang towards him, with that joyful “Oh!” By which delight is ever signified; But changed his look and tone, when, nearer brought, He sees that he is not the wight he sought:

LXXIX.

And through that evil woman’s treachery, Deemed Gryphon murdered by the cavalier; And, “Tell me,” he exclaimed, “thou, who must be “Traitor and thief both written in thy cheer “Whence are these arms? and wherefore do I thee “View on the courser of my brother dear? “Say is my brother slaughtered or alive? “How didst thou him of horse and arms deprive?”

LXXX.

When Origilla hears him, in affright She turns her palfrey, and for flight prepares: But Aquilant, more quick, in her despite, Arrests the traitress, ere she further fares. At the loud threats of that all furious knight, By whom he so was taken unawares, Martan’ turns pale and trembles like a leaf, Nor how to act or answer knows the thief.

LXXXI.

Aquilant thundered still, and, to his dread, A falchion, pointed at his gullet, shewed, And swore with angry menaces, the head From him and Origilla should be hewed, Save in all points the very truth be said. Awhile on this ill-starred Martano chewed, Revolving still what pretext he might try To lessen his grave fault, then made reply:

LXXXII.

“Know, sir, you see my sister in this dame, “And one of good and virtuous parents born, “Though she has lately led a life of shame, “And been by Gryphon foully brought to scorn; “And, for I loathed such blot upon our name, “Yet weened that she could ill by force be torn “From such a puissant wight, I laid a scheme “Her by address and cunning to redeem.

LXXXIII.

“With her I planned the means, who in her breast “Nursed the desire a better life to prove, “That she, when Gryphon was retired to rest, “In silence from the warrior should remove. “This done: lest he should follow on our quest, “And so undo the web we vainly wove, “Him we deprived of horse and arms, and we “Are hither come together, as you see.”

LXXXIV.

His cunning might have proved of good avail, For Aquilant believed him easily; And, save in taking Gryphon’s horse and mail, He to the knight had done no injury; But that he wrought so high the specious tale, As manifested plainly, ’twas a lie. In all ’twas perfect, save that he the dame Had for his sister vouched with whom he came.

LXXXV.

Aquilant had in Antioch chanced to know She was his concubine,—well certified Of this by many,—and in furious glow Exclaimed; “Thou falsest robber, thou hast lied!” And dealt, with that, the recreant such a blow, He drove two grinders down his throat; then tied (Nor sought Martano with his foe to cope) The caitiff’s arms behind him with a rope.

LXXXVI.

And, though she for excuse tried many wiles, Did thus as well by Origille untrue; And till he reached Damascus’ lofty piles, Them by town, street, or farm, behind him drew: And will a thousand times a thousand miles, With sorrow and with suffering, drag the two, Till he his brother find; who, at his pleasure, May vengeance to the guilty couple measure.

LXXXVII.

Sir Aquilant made squires and beasts as well Return with him, and to Damascus came; And heard Renown, throughout the city, swell, Plying her ample wings, Sir Gryphon’s name. Here, great and little—every one, could tell ’Twas he that in the tourney won such fame, And had, by one that ill deserved his trust, Been cheated of the honours of the just.

LXXXVIII.

Pointing him out to one another’s sight, The hostile people all Martano bayed; “And is not this (they cried) that ribald wight “Who in another’s spoils himself arrayed, “And who the valour of a sleeping knight, “With his own shame and infamy o’erlaid? “And this the woman of ungrateful mood, “Who aids the wicked and betrays the good?”

LXXXIX.

Others exclaimed, “How fittingly combined, “Marked with one stamp, and of one race are they !” Some loudly cursed them, and some raved behind, While others shouted, “Hang, burn, quarter, slay!” The throng to view them prest, with fury blind, And to the square before them made its way. The monarch of the tidings was advised, And these above another kingdom prized.

XC.

Attended with few squires the Syrian king, As then he chanced to be, came forth with speed, And with Sir Aquilant encountering, Who Gryphon had avenged with worthy deed, Him honoured with fair cheer, and home would bring, And in his palace lodged, as fitting meed; Having the prisoned pair, with his consent, First in the bottom of a turret pent.

XCI.

They thither go, where Gryphon from his bed Has not as yet, since he was wounded, stirred; Who at his brother’s coming waxes red, Surmising well he of his case has heard: And after Aquilant his say had said, And him somedeal reproached, the three conferred As to what penance to the wicked two, So fallen into their hands, was justly due.

XCII.

’Tis Aquilant’s, ’tis Norandino’s will A thousand tortures shall their guerdon be: But Gryphon, who the dame alone can ill Excuse, entreats for both impunity; And many matters urges with much skill. But well is answered; and ’tis ruled, to flea Martano’s body with the hangman’s scourge, And only short of death his penance urge.

XCIII.

Bound is the wretch, but not ’mid grass and flower , Whose limbs beneath the hangman’s lashes burn All the next morn: they prison in the tower Origille, till Lucina shall return; To whom the counselling lords reserve the power To speak the woman’s sentence, mild or stern. Harboured, till Gryphon can bear arms, at court, Aquilant fleets the time in fair disport.

XCIV.

The valiant Norandino could not choose (Made by such error temperate and wise), But full of penitence and sorrow, muse, With downcast spirit, and in mournful guise, On having bid his men a knight misuse, Whom all should worthily reward and prize; So that he, night and morning, in his thought, How to content the injured warrior sought.

XCV.

And he determined, in the public sight O’ the city, guilty of that injury, With all such honour as to perfect knight Could by a puissant monarch rendered be, Him with the glorious guerdon to requite, Which had been ravished by such treachery: And hence, within a month, proclaimed the intent To hold another solemn tournament.

XCVI.

For which he made what stately preparation Was possible to make by sceptered king. Hence Fame divulged the royal proclamation Throughout all Syria’s land, with nimble wing, Phœnicia and Palestine; till the relation Of this in good Astolpho’s ears did ring; Who, with the lord who ruled that land in trust, Resolved he would be present at the just.

XCVII.

For a renowned and valiant cavalier Has the true history vaunted, Sansonnet, By Roland christened, Charles (I said), the peer Over the Holy Land as ruler set: He with the duke takes up his load, to steer Thither, where Rumour speaks the champions met. So that his ears, on all sides in the journey, Are filled with tidings of Damascus’ tourney.

XCVIII.

Thither the twain their way those countries through, By easy stages and by slow, addrest, That fresh upon the day of joust the two Might in Damascus-town set up their rest. When at the meeting of cross-ways they view A person, who, in movement and in vest, Appears to be a man, but is a maid; And marvellously fierce, in martial raid.

XCIX.

Marphisa was the warlike virgin’s name, And such her worth, she oft with naked brand Had pressed Orlando sore in martial game, And him who had Mount Alban in command ; And ever, night and day, the armed dame Scowered, here and there, by hill and plain, the land; Hoping with errant cavalier to meet, And win immortal fame by glorious feat.

C.

When Sansonnetto and the English knight She sees approaching her, in warlike weed, Who seem two valiant warriors in her sight, As of large bone, and nerved for doughty deed, On them she fain would prove her martial might, And to defy the pair has moved her steed. When, eyeing the two warriors, now more near, Marphisa recognized the duke and peer.

CI.

His pleasing ways she did in mind retrace, When arms in far Catày with her he bore Called him by name, nor would in iron case; Retain her hand, upraised the casque she wore, And him, advanced, to meet with glad embrace, Though, of all living dames and those of yore, The proudest, she; nor with less courteous mien The paladin salutes the martial queen.

CII.

They questioned one another of their way; And when the duke has said (who first replied) “That he Damascus 1 seeks, where to assay “Their virtuous deeds, all knights of valour tried “The Syrian king invites, in martial play,—” The bold Marphisa, at this hearing, cried, (Ever to prove her warlike prowess bent) “I will be with you at this tournament.”

CIII.

To have such a comrade either cavalier Is much rejoiced. They to Damascus go, And in a suburb, of the city clear, Are lodged, upon the day before the show; And, till her aged lover, once so dear, Aurora roused , their humble roof below, In greater ease the weary warriors rested Than had they been in costly palace guested.

CIV.

And when the clear and lucid sun again Its shining glories all abroad had spread, The beauteous lady armed, and warriors twain, Having first couriers to the city sped, Who, when ’twas time, reported to the train, That, to see truncheons split in contest dread, King Norandine had come into the square In which the cruel games appointed were.

CV.

Straight to the city ride the martial band, And, through the high-street, to the crowded place; Where, waiting for the royal signal, stand, Ranged here and there, the knights of gentle race. The guerdons destined to the conqueror’s hand, In that day’s tourney, were a tuck and mace Richly adorned, and, with them, such a steed As to the winning lord were fitting meed.

CVI.

Norandine, sure that, in the martial game, Both prizes destined for the conquering knight, As well as one and the other tourney’s fame, Must be obtained by Gryphon, named the white, To give him all that valiant man could claim, Nor could he give the warrior less, with right, The armour, guerdon of this final course Placed with the tuck and mace and noble horse.

CVII.

The arms which in the former joust the due Of valiant Gryphon were, who all had gained, (With evil profit, by the wretch untrue, Martan’ usurped, who Gryphon’s bearing feigned,) To be hung up on high in public view With the rich-flourished tuck, the king ordained, And fastened at the saddle of the steed The mace, that Gryphon might win either meed.

CVIII.

But from effecting what he had intended He was prevented by the warlike maid; Who late into the crowded square had wended, With Sansonnet and England’s duke arrayed. Seeing the arms of which I spoke suspended, She straight agnized the harness she surveyed, Once hers, and dear to her; as matters are Esteemed by us as excellent and rare;

CIX.

Though, as a hindrance, she upon the road Had left the arms, when, to retrieve her sword, She from her shoulders slipt the ponderous load, And chased Brunello, worthy of the cord. More to relate were labour ill bestowed, I deem, nor further of the tale record . Enough for me, by you ’tis understood, How here she found anew her armour good.

CX.

You shall take with you, when by manifest And certain tokens they by her were known, She, for no earthly thing, the iron vest And weapons for a day would have foregone. She thinks not if this mode or that be best To have them, anxious to regain her own; But t’wards the arms with hand extended hies, And without more regard takes down the prize.

CXI.

And throwing some on earth, it chanced that more Than was her own she in her hurry took. The Syrian king, who was offended sore, Raised war against her with a single look. For ill the wrong his angered people bore, And, to avenge him, lance and falchion shook; Remembering not, on other day, how dear They paid for scathing errant cavalier.

CXII.

No wishful child more joyfully, ’mid all The flowers of spring-tide, yellow, blue, and red, Finds itself, nor at concert or at ball Dame beauteous and adorned, than ’mid the tread Of warlike steeds, and din of arms, and fall Of darts, and push of spears,—where blood is shed, And death is dealt, in the tumultuous throng,— She finds herself beyond all credence strong.

CXIII.

She spurred her courser, and with lance in rest, Impetuous at the foolish rabble made, And—through the neck impaled or through the breast,— Some pierced, some prostrate at the encounter layed. Next this or that she with the falchion prest; The head from one she severed with the blade, And from that other cleft: another sank, Short of right arm or left, or pierced in flank.

CXIV.

Bold Sansonnetto and Astolpho near, Who had, with her, their limbs in harness dight, Though they for other end in arms appear, Seeing the maid and crowd engaged in fight, First lower the helmet’s vizor, next the spear, And with their lances charge the mob outright: Then bare their falchions, and, amid the crew, A passage with the trenchant weapons hew.

CXV.

The errant cavaliers who to that stage, To joust, from different lands had made resort, Seeing them warfare with such fury wage, And into mourning changed the expected sport, Because all knew not what had moved the rage Of the infuriate people in that sort, Nor what the insult offered to the king, Suspended stood in doubt and wondering.

CXVI.

Of these, some will the crowded rabble’s band (Too late repentant of the feat) befriend: Those, favouring not the natives of the land More than the foreigners, to part them wend. Others more wary, with their reins in hand, Sit watching how the mischief is to end. Gryphon and Aquilant are of the throng, Which hurry forward to avenge the wrong.

CXVII.

The pair of warlike brethren witnessing The monarch’s drunken eyes with venom fraught, And having heard from many in the ring The occasion which the furious strife had wrought, Himself no whit less injured than the king Of Syria’s land, offended Gryphon thought. Each knight, in haste, supplied himself with spear, And thundering vengeance drove in full career.

CXVIII.

On Rabican, pricked forth before his band, Valiant Astolpho, from the other bound, With the enchanted lance of gold in hand, Which at the first encounter bore to ground What knights he smote with it; and on the sand Laid Gryphon first; next Aquilant he found, And scarcely touched the border of his shield, Ere he reversed the warrior on the field.

CXIX.

From lofty saddle Sansonnet o’erthrew, Famous for price and prowess, many a knight. To the outlet of the square the mob withdrew; The monarch raged with anger and despite. Meanwhile, of the first cuirass and the new Possest, as well as either helmet bright, Marphisa, when she all in flight discerned, Conqueror towards her suburb-inn returned.

CXX.

Sansonnet and Astolpho are not slow In following t’wards the gate the martial maid, (The mob dividing all to let them go) And halt when they have reached the barricade. Gryphon and Aquilant, who saw with woe Themselves on earth at one encounter laid, Their drooping heads, opprest with shame, decline, Nor dare appear before King Norandine.

CXXI.

Seizing their steeds and mounting, either son Of Oliver to seek their foemen went: With many of his vassals too is gone The king; on death or vengeance all intent. The foolish rabble cry, “Lay on, lay on,” And stand at distance and await the event. Gryphon arrived where the three friends had gained A bridge, and facing round the post maintained.

CXXII.

He, at the first approach, Astolpho knew, For still the same device had been his wear, Even from the day he charmed Orrilo slew, His horse, his arms the same: him not with care Sir Gryphon had remarked, nor stedfast view, When late he jousted with him in the square: He knows him here and greets; next prays him show Who the companions are that with him go;

CXXIII.

‘And why they had those arms, without the fear ‘Of Syria’s king, pulled down, and to his slight.’ Of his companions England’s cavalier, Sir Gryphon, courteously informed aright. ‘But little of those arms,’ pursued the peer, ‘He knew, which were the occasion of the fight; ‘But (for he thither with Marphisa came ‘And Sansonnet) had armed to aid the dame.’

CXXIV.

While he and Gryphon stood in colloquy, Aquilant came, and knew Astolpho good, Whom he heard speaking with his brother nigh, And, though of evil purpose, changed his mood. Of Norandine’s trooped many, these to spy; But came not nigh the warriors where they stood: And seeing them in conference, stood clear, Listening, in silence, and intent to hear.

CXXV.

Some one who hears Marphisa bold is there, Famed, through the world, for matchless bravery, His courser turns, and bids the king have care, Save he would lose his Syrian chivalry, To snatch his court, before all slaughtered are, From the hand of Death and of Tisiphone: For that ’twas verily Marphisa, who Had borne away the arms in public view.

CXXVI.

As Norandine is told that name of dread, Through the Levant so feared on every side, Whose mention made the hair on many a head Bristle, though she was often distant wide, He fears the ill may happen which is said, Unless against the mischief he provide; And hence his meiny, who have changed their ire Already into fear, he bids retire.

CXXVII.

The sons of Oliver, on the other hand, With Sansonnetto and the English knight, So supplicate Marphisa, she her brand Puts up, and terminates the cruel fight; And to the monarch next, amid his band, Cries, proudly, “Sir, I know not by what right “Thou wouldst this armour, not thine own, present “To him who conquers in thy tournament.

CXXVIII.

“Mine are these arms, which I, upon a day, “Left on the road which leads from Armeny, “Because, parforce a-foot, I sought to stay “A robber, who had sore offended me. “The truth of this my ensign may display, “Which here is seen, if it be known to thee.” With that she on the plate which sheathed the breast (Cleft in three places) showed a crown imprest.

CXXIX.

“To me this an Armenian merchant gave, “ ’Tis true,” replied the king, “some days ago; “And had you raised your voice, the arms to crave, “You should have had them, whether yours or no. “For, notwithstanding I to Gryphon gave “The armour, I so well his nature know, “He freely would resign the gift he earned, “That it by me to you might be returned.

CXXX.

“Your allegation needs not to persuade “These arms are yours—that they your impress bear; “Your word suffices me, by me more weighed “Than all that other witness could declare. “To grant them yours is but a tribute paid “To Virtue, worthy better prize to wear. “Now have the arms, and let us make accord; “And let some fairer gift the knight reward.”

CXXXI.

Gryphon, who little had those arms at heart, But much to satisfy the king was bent, Replied: “You recompense enough impart, “Teaching me how your wishes to content.” —“Here is my honour all at stake,” apart, “Meseemeth,” said Marphisa, and forewent Her claim for Gryphon’s sake, with courteous cheer; And, as his gift, in fine received the gear.

CXXXII.

To the city, their rejoicings to renew, In love and peace they measured back their way. Next came the joust, of which the honour due, And prize was Sansonnet’s; since from the fray Abstained Astolpho and the brethren two , And bold Marphisa, best of that array, Like faithful friends and good companions; fain That Sansonnet the tourney’s meed should gain.

CXXXIII.

Eight days or ten in joy and triumph dwell The knights with Norandin; but with such strong Desire of France the warriors’ bosoms swell, Which will not let them thence be absent long, They take their leave. Marphisa, who as well Thither would go, departs the troop among. Marphisa had long time, with sword and lance, Desired to prove the paladins of France;

CXXXIV.

And make experiment, if they indeed Such worth as is by Rumour voiced display. Sansonnet leaves another, in his stead, The city of Jerusalem to sway, And now these five, in chosen squadron, speed, Who have few peers in prowess, on their way. Dismist by Norandine, to Tripoli They wend, and to the neighbouring haven hie.

CXXXV.

And there a carack find, about to steer For western countries, taking in her store: They, with the patron, for themselves and gear, And horses, make accord; a seaman hoar Of Luna he : the heavens, on all sides clear, Vouch many days’ fair weather. From the shore They loose, with sky serene, and every sail Of the yare vessel stretched by favouring gale.

CXXXVI.

The island of the amorous deity Breathed upon them an air, in her first port, Which not alone to man does injury, But moulders iron; and here life is short; —A marsh the cause,—and Nature certainly Wrongs Famagosta, poisoning, in such sort, That city with Constantia’s fen malign, To all the rest of Cyprus so benign .

CXXXVII.

The noxious scents that from the marish spring, After short sojourn there, compel their flight. The barque to a south-easter every wing Extends, and circles Cyprus to the right, Makes Paphos’ island next, and, anchoring, The crew and warriors on the beach alight; Those to ship merchandize, and these, at leisure, To view the laughing land of Love and Pleasure.

CXXXVIII.

Inland six miles or seven from thence, a way Scales, with an easy rise, a pleasant hill; Which myrtle, orange, cedar-tree, and bay, And other perfumed plants by thousands fill; Thyme, marjoram, crocus, rose, and lily gay From odoriferous leaf such sweets distill, That they who sail the sea the fragrance bland, Scent in each genial gale which blows from land.

CXXXIX.

A fruitful rill, by limpid fountain fed, Waters, all round about, the fertile space. The land of Venus truly may be said That passing joyous and delightful place: For every maid and wife, who there is bred, Is through the world beside, unmatched in grace: And Venus wills, till their last hour be tolled, That Love should warm their bosoms, young and old.

CXL.

’Twas here they heard the same which they before Of the ore and of Lucina, erst had heard In Syria; how she to return once more In Nicosia, to her lord prepared. Thence (a fair wind now blowing from the shore) His bark for sea the ready Patron cleared, Hawled up his anchor, westward turned the head Of the good ship, and all his canvas spread.

CXLI.

To the north wind, which blew upon their right, Stretching to seaward, they their sails untie: When lo! a south-south-wester, which seemed light, In the beginning, while the sun was high, And afterwards increased in force t’wards night, Raised up the sea against them mountains high; With such dread flashes, and loud peals of thunder, As Heaven, to swallow all in fire, would sunder.

CXLII.

The clouds their gloomy veil above them strain, Nor suffer sun or star to cheer the view. Above the welkin roared, beneath the main: On every side the wind and tempest grew; Which, with sharp piercing cold and blinding rain, Afflicted sore the miserable crew. While aye descending night, with deeper shade, The vext and fearful billows overlayed.

CXLIII.

The sailors, in this war of wind and flood, Were prompt to manifest their vaunted art. One blowing through the shrilling whistle stood, And with the signal taught the rest their part. One clears the best bower anchor: one is good To lower , this other to hawl home or start The braces; one from deck the lumber cast, And this secured the tiller, that the mast.

CXLIV.

The cruel wind increased throughout the night, Which grew more dismal and more dark than hell. The wary Patron stood to sea outright, Where he believed less broken was the swell; And turned his prow to meet, with ready sleight, The buffets of the dreadful waves which fell; Never without some hope, that at day-break The storm might lull, or else its fury slake.