XXII.

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

XXIII.

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

XXIV.

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

XXV.

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

XXVI.

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

XXVII.

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

XXVIII.

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

XXIX.

Agramant recognized this truth; but thought That ill his royal word could be repealed; Yet Mandricardo and the Child besought ‘That they the right, conferred by him, would yield: ‘More; that the question was a thing of nought, ‘Nor worthy to be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

XXX.

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

XXXI.

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

XXXII.

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

XXXIII.

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

XXXIV.

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

XXXV.

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

XXXVI.

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

XXXVII.

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

XXXVIII.

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

XXXIX.

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

XL.

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

XLI.

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

XLII.

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

XLIII.

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

XLIV.

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

XLV.

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

XLVI.

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

XLVII.

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

XLVIII.

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

XLIX.

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

L.

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

LI.

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

LII.

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

LIII.

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

LIV.

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

LV.

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

LVI.

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

LVII.

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

LVIII.

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

LIX.

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

LX.

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

LXI.

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

LXII.

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

LXIII.

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

LXIV.

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

LXV.

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

LXVI.

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

LXVII.

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

LXVIII.

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

LXIX.

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

LXX.

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

LXXI.

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

LXXII.

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

LXXIII.

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

LXXIV.

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

LXXV.

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

LXXVI.

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

LXXVII.

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

LXXVIII.

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

LXXIX.

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

LXXX.

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

LXXXI.

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

LXXXII.

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

LXXXIII.

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

LXXXIV.

To her Rogero, in his absence, said The lady these sad words, and more beside, Lamenting aye; while her attendant maid Not once alone, but often, certified ‘The stripling would observe his faith, and prayed ‘Her—who could do no better—to abide ‘The Child’s arrival till the time came round ‘When he by promise to return was bound.’

LXXXV.

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

LXXXVI.

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

LXXXVII.

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

LXXXVIII.

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

LXXXIX.

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

XC.

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

XCI.

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

XCII.

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

XCIII.

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

XCIV.

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

XCV.

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

NOTES TO CANTO XXX.

Departing thence, insane Orlando flies To Zizera, a seaward town, whose site Is in Gibraltar’s bay, or (if you please) Say Gibletàr’s, for either way ’tis hight .

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

It is termed Gibletorre in the Diary of Teongue, chaplain of two king’s ships in the Mediterranean in the years 1675—9. In somewhat the same way we say Trafàlgar or Traflàgar, giving the word sometimes a foreign and sometimes an English accentuation.

In the original it is,

Quindi partito venne à una terra Zizera delta, che siede a lo stretto Di Zibeltarro, o vuoi di Zibeltarra, Chè l’ uno e l’ altro nome le vien detto.

I do not know what Ariosto means by Zizera, and can find no trace of such a town.

He spurs his horse amid the billows high, Wholly resolved to reach the farther side .

Stanza xiii. lines 5 and 6.

In the same Diary of Teongue, and describing the same ground, we are told of Orlando’s gappe , and are informed that it is so called from a tradition respecting one Sir Orlando Furioso .

We may here observe on the singular tests of literary success, which vouch the merits of Ariosto. He is the only modern poet, it would seem, that has given a name to a place beyond the limits of his country, and one of very few that have achieved present and posthumous popularity.

Agramant and Marsilius strive in vain, With labour sore, this tangle to undo, &c .

Stanza xix. lines 1 and 2.

‘It may not be amiss to take a little retrospect, in order to see how the matter was settled by Agramant, which seems rather to require some explanation. By the first lots that were drawn, the combatants stood thus: first, Rodomont and Rogero: fourth, Mandricardo and Marphisa. The list being prepared for the fight between Rodomont and Mandricardo, while these knights are arming themselves, a new dispute arises between them and Gradasso and Sacripant for Durindana and Frontina, which puts a stop to the expected combat between Rodomont and Mandricardo. Marphisa adds to the confusion by carrying off Brunello prisoner, whom she accuses of stealing her sword; and Rogero seeing the order of the lots disturbed, claims again his horse from Rodomont. Agramant, to settle the first dispute between Rodomont and Mandricardo, orders the cause to be determined by Doralice, who choosing Mandricardo her former lover, quits the camp with indignation. The list now remained according to the first lots, to be entered by Rogero and Mandricardo, but Gradasso persisting still to claim Durindana from Mandricardo, Agramant proposes that lots should be again drawn to determine whether Rogero or Gradasso should first engage with Mandricardo, and, to prevent future strife, proposes that whoever draws the lot of combat shall determine both his own claim and the claim of the knight who loses the lot; that when Rogero wins or loses, he shall not only win or lose the eagle for himself, but Gradasso shall, in right of his conquest, or in consequence of his defeat, continue to bear the shield of Hector, or relinquish the claim. In this last disposition of the lots, no provision seems to be made for the termination of Marphisa’s quarrel with Mandricardo.’— Hoole .

And Mandricardo, sucking from her eyes Those sweet tears, &c .

Stanza xxxvii. lines 5 and 6.

This passage may be taken from Statius where Argia endeavours to persuade Polyneces to quit the siege of Thebes.

Risit Echionius juvenis tenerumque dolorem Conjugis amplexu solatur, et oscula mœstis Tempestiva genis posuit— “Solve metus animo” —— —

Hoole .

Gradasso tells to them who make demand, “He was my prisoner in the Syrian tower.”

Stanza xxxix. lines 6 and 7.

When Mandricardo acquired the arms of Hector. See the Innamorato .

————— and your Isolier .

Stanza xl. line 2.

Isolier, as well as Doralice, was a Spaniard.

So hurtled, but with plumes of different hue, Those others often on Thessalian plain .

Stanza xlviii. lines 3 and4.

The Roman eagles were black, those borne by Mandricardo and Rogero white.

For two or three fell flaming from on high, Which had ascended to the starry sphere .

Stanza xlix. lines 3 and 4.

A sphere of fire was supposed in the Ptolemaic system. Hence to reconcile Don Quixote (who is blindfolded) to the probability of his having arrived at a certain height in his imaginary ascent upon the wooden horse Clavileno, a handful of flax is burned under his nose.

Had Balisarda smote him full, though crowned With Hectors helm, the enchantment had been vain .

Stanza lv. lines 1 and 2.

Hector’s arms were impenetrable, but nothing was impenetrable by Balisarda. Such are the contradictions incidental to the employment of such machinery as that of magic.

Which now you cast away, and cleft before .

Stanza lxi. line 3.

When “Rogero’s shield was cleft in twain” in Stanza LII.

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I have added to the present volume specimens of translation of two very different works of Ariosto.

With respect to the first, the version of the xxvth canto of the Furioso, I shall observe that it was made, without any view of publication, several years ago by an old schoolfellow, who will not allow me to particularize him, and who once thought of extending his labours over the whole field which he has partially cultivated. This was only shown to me after I had begun my own translation. I am more especially led to mention the circumstance, because our coincidence in plan, as I think, tells much in favour of the system we have adopted in translating the Furioso, stanza by stanza, into the same metre as the original. He, however, who may think me right in agreeing with my fellow-labourer in this principle of translation, may censure me for not proceeding upon his model in my details, and certainly there are graces in his version within my reach, besides others which I might be ill able to imitate. I allude to the good effect which he has produced by the adoption of modes of speech more especially appropriated to English poetry, such as putting sentences in apposition, instead of conjunction, &c. &c. &c. If I have not adopted this phraseology in general, it has not been without consideration that I have been sparing in the employment of it. Thinking that Ariosto, though a bold borrower of beauties which he almost always improves, is yet remarkable for seldom dealing in the conventional diction of Italian poetry, I wished to preserve as much as possible this feature of my original, and have therefore rarely resorted to our own conventional language of poetry in my copy.

There is another thing of which the reader (judging from its generally successful employment in the following specimen) might wish I had been an imitator. I mean the practice of finishing with an alexandrine, which seems to supply the place of the double-rhymed couplet in the Italian, and perhaps also pleases us, as recalling to memory the sonorous close of the Spenserian stanza. But however this may please in some parts (as in this version of the xxvth canto for example) there are many others, where it would, I think, be very injudiciously employed; such as in those where there is little poetry, and where much of the charm consists in neatness and shortness of narration. In these (and more especially in such up-hill-work as the genealogical and complimentary cantos) the alexandrine would operate, if I am not mistaken, as an intolerable drag-chain. But it may be said; “Why not put on and take off (to use the language of a way-post) as may be required by the varieties of the road? Why not use the alexandrine, as Dryden has ? To this I rejoin, that a precedent drawn from one species of versification is not necessarily applicable to another. In what is called English heroick verse, there being no place absolutely fixed for the alexandrine (except that it must not occur in the first line of a couplet, nor in the first or second of a triplet) the ear is not disappointed by its absence; and accordingly it is used by him twice or twenty times in a hundred lines; but the effect must be different when the ear has been used to expect it in a certain place. And I think that the stanza of Ariosto would suffer as much as that of Spenser by being shortened of its ordinary dimensions.

I ought moreover to state that I tried the experiment in my first essays at a translation of the Furioso, and renounced it as I have done some others which pleased me in parts, but dissatisfied me upon the whole, as giving a different colouring to my original. But I have so often stated my reasons for having been studious of fidelity, as more due to Ariosto than any other author with whom I am conversant, that I will not detain the reader by any further preface. I will only add, that I may designate Lord Holland as the translator of the other specimen of a work which happily illustrates Ariosto’s variety of powers.

CANTO XXV.

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The Satires of Ariosto, little known out of Italy, are held in high estimation in that country. Some of the best judges have not hesitated to place them on the same line of excellence, though in a different branch of poetry, with the Orlando Furioso. They are in truth the happiest imitation of the satires and epistles of Horace that any modern language possesses. That arch but well-bred raillery, that easy and familiar, but pure and polished felicity of style, which distinguish the Roman satirist, are discernible almost in equal perfection in the great Italian poet. He has employed a phraseology and turn of thought truly Horatian to purposes suggested by the manners of his own age and country; viz. to give a picture of the opinions and passions of the little courts on which he depended, of the pursuits literary or ambitious in which he was personally engaged, and of the hopes and disappointments which constituted the chief incidents of his life. But the delicacy of his sarcasms, the lightness of his allusions, and the easy propriety of his diction, are beauties scarcely susceptible of translation into the language of a country where the idiom is wholly different, the persons and events alluded to generally unknown, and the modes of thinking as well as the customs and manners animadverted upon or described, imperfectly understood by the learned, and not at all familiar to the common reader.

Even the metre of these satires adds to the embarrassment of the Englishman who engages in the translation of them. It is the triplet and alternate rhyme like that in which Dante composed his immortal work. Such a metre is not only unusual in English, but is singularly ill-adapted in our language to convey that apparent carelessness of style and real delicacy of thought which constitute the charm of the original. A casual remark to this effect led in fact to the present attempt. The translator had been asked his opinion as to the metre best suited to an English version of Ariosto’s Satires. After acknowledging the impossibility of moulding English triplets with alternate rhymes to any such purpose, and after balancing the advantages and objections of other more popular metres, such as the eight syllable lines of Swift and Prior, or the dactylick or anapæstick verses in which the same Prior as well as Anstey has excelled, he ventured to pronounce judgment in favour of the ten syllable couplet. He annexed, however, a condition that the cadence and structure of the lines should be modelled neither on the heroick poetry of Dryden, nor even on the didactick Essays of Pope, but on the negligent rhythm general among “the mob of gentlemen who wrote with ease” in Charles the Second’s time; which Dryden in the Religio Laici, the Cock and the Fox, and some lighter works, has not disdained to preserve, and of which Cowper in an epistle to Mr. Hill has left the most successful, or at least the most Horatian specimen in our language. The translator has indeed in the following satire sometimes admitted an alexandrine or a triplet. Such deviation from his own rule may have added here or there some force to the passage, and even in some instances enabled him to comprehend in the period the whole sense of his author. But he is conscious that such blemishes or excrescences detract from the resemblance which a copy engages to preserve of the original.

The seventh satire, which is here offered to the reader in such an English dress as in the judgment of the translator would best fit it, was written when Ariosto was Governor of La Garfagnana in the Apennines. It is in the form of an epistle and addressed to Pistofilo, who appears by the context to have been living at Ferrara, the capital of the duchy, and the usual residence of the Poet.

SEVENTH SATIRE OF ARIOSTO,

ADDRESSED TO PISTOFILO.

NOTE S.

Note 1, page 307, line 2.

Now Clement’s Pope .

Clement the Seventh , the second Pope of the House of Medici, chosen 1523.

Note 2, page 307, line 11.

In scarlet shoes new crossed to mark his papal state .

When a Cardinal is chosen Pope a golden cross is embroidered on his scarlet shoes; this is alluded to in the original text,

—— —e quando in su le rosse Scarpe, Leone ebbe la croce d’ oro.

Note 3, page 308, line 19.

Those Fortune’s wheels our painted cards display .

A sort of cards called Tarocco , and common in Italy. The vicissitudes of fortune are, I believe, represented both in the games usually played with them and in the figures painted on them.

Note 4, page 308, lines 33 and 34.

E’en when the Church for bridegroom deigned to name Leo the Tenth, that very day she came .

In the spring of 1513.

Note 5, page 309, line 25.

So some, &c .

The next twenty lines are somewhat obscure in the original. The sense appears to be as follows:

“When the hopes of preferment hurried me to Rome some might have applied the same language to me, inasmuch as they had better claims on Leo than myself, having exposed their lives in the service of the Medici, espoused their cause when they were banished, contributed to restore them, and finally to raise Leo to the Popedom. But perhaps a person in the Spirit of Sosena (who I understand was an active enemy of the Medici) might have said to them, to Lorenzo when created Duke, and to his family and courtiers, that the moral of the fable applied to them also, inasmuch as they were revelling in prosperity and high in hopes, but in the course of eight years would all be swept away by the hand of death.”

Throughout the passage there is a constant but indirect allusion to the preceding fable. The Translator, for the sake of perspicuity, has rendered that reference more direct.

Note 6, page 309, line 34.

When first that title struck Lorenzo’s ear .

Lorenzo de Medici was made Duke of Urbino and Sinigaglia in 1516; he died in 1519.

Note 7, page 309, lines 35 and 36.

To him to Bibiena (he perchance Had fared the better had he staid in France), &c .

Bibiena had been legate in France, and died soon after his return to Italy. His death in 1520 was imputed by public suspicion to poison. The names and description of the ladies who partook of the good fortunes of Lorenzo, and were dead before the expiration of eight years, are, to avoid prolixity, omitted in the translation, and only included under the words “every guest,” v. 98, and “dames,” v. 103.

Note 8, page 310, line 8.

Eight times complete his annual course has run .

Leo X. died in Dec. 1521. He had been elected Pope in 1513.

Note 9, page 310, line 17.

You ’d better bid me quit this odious place .

Garfagnana, of which the Poet was Governor.

Note 10, page 311, line 17.

And the bronze statues that our squares adorn .

In the square of Ferrara there are two bronze statues, an equestrian one of the Marquis Nicolo d’Este, and a sitting figure of the Masquis Borso, afterwards Duke of Ferrara.

Note 11, page 311, line 20.

Like Dante’s meagre ghosts, that strive the fruit to catch .

An allusion to a passage in the twenty-fourth Canto of the Purgatorio, where the ghosts of gluttons are represented in a state of hunger, catching, like Tantalus, at the apples of a tree, which seems within their reach, but is removed beyond it whenever they stretch out their hands.

Note 12, page 311, line 27.

Beyond Argenta’s or Bondeno’s grounds .

Argenta and Bondeno are two places at the extremity of the Ferrarese territory, one twenty miles east, the other twenty miles west of Ferrara.

Note 13, page 311, line 29.

Ask you why thus I love my well-known nest?

Born at Reggio.

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THE

ORLANDO FURIOSO

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE

FROM THE ITALIAN OF

LUDOVICO ARIOSTO

WITH NOTES

BY

WILLIAM STEWART ROSE

VOL. VI.

LONDON

JOHN MURRAY ALBEMARLE-STREET

MDCCCXXVIII

Lately was published, by the same Author, printed uniformly with the present work, price 9s. 6d.

THE INNAMORATO

intended as

AN INTRODUCTION TO THE FURIOSO

sold by W. Blackwood Edinburgh and

T. Cadell Strand

LONDON:

printed by Thomas Davison, Whitefriars.

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THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.

CANTO XXXI.

ARGUMENT.

Rinaldo and Dudon fight; then friendship make,

And to each other fitting honour pay.

Agramant’s host the united champions break,

And scatter it, like chaff, in disarray.

Brandimart wages war, for Roland’s sake,

With Rodomont, and loses in the fray.

This while, for good Bayardo, with more pain,

Contend Rinaldo and the Sericane.

THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.

CANTO XXXI.

I.

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

II.

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

III.

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

IV.

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

V.

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

VI.

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

VII.

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

VIII.

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

IX.

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

X.

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

XI.

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

XII.

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

XIII.

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

XIV.

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

XV.

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

XVI.

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

XVII.

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

XVIII.

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

XIX.

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

XX.

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

XXI.

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

XXII.

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

XXIII.

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

XXIV.

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

XXV.

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

XXVI.

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

XXVII.

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

XXVIII.

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

XXIX.

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

XXX.

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

XXXI.

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

XXXII.

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

XXXIII.

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

XXXIV.

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

XXXV.

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

XXXVI.

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

XXXVII.

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

XXXVIII.

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

XXXIX.

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

XL.

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

XLI.

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

XLII.

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

XLIII.

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

XLIV.

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

XLV.

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

XLVI.

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

XLVII.

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

XLVIII.

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

XLIX.

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

L.

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