XVI "And, moved by envy of thy glorious fame I in my heart resolved (as thou hast heard) To abate the grandeur of they mighty name: I haply so had done; I haply erred. But now a chance has served that will to tame, And clip my fury's wings; the having heard Since I arrived in Christendom, how we Are bound by ties of consanguinity;

XVII "And, for my father thee, as kinsman, served, So thou a kin and servant hast in me; And I that envy, that fierce hate, which nerved Mine arm whilere, now blot from memory. Nay, these for evil Agramant reserved, And for his sire's and uncle's kin shall be; They who were whilom guilty of the death Of that unhappy pair, who gave me breath."

XVIII She adds, the Christian faith she will receive, And, after having spent king Agramant, Will home return, with royal Charles's leave, Her kingdom to baptize in the Levant, And war upon whatever nation cleave To cheating Mahound or to Termagant; Promising that whate'er her arms obtain Shall be the Christian faith's and empire's gain.

XIX Charles, no less eloquent upon his side, Than bold in deed and prudent in design, Much that illustrious lady magnified, And much her father, much her noble line: He courteously to every point replied; And of his heart his open front was sign. As his last words, that he received the maid As kinswoman and child, the monarch said.

XX Then rose and locked her in a new embrace, And kissed her, like a daughter, on the brow. Morgana and Clermont's kin, with joyful face, All thither troop; 'twere tedious to tell how Rinaldo did the gentle damsel grace; For he had oftentimes espied ere now Her martial prowess, tried by goodly test, When they with girding siege Albracca pressed.

XXI 'Twere long to tell how, with those worthies met, Guido rejoiced to see Marphisa there; Gryphon and Aquilant, and Sansonet, That with her in the cruel city were; Vivian, and Malagigi, and Richardet; Who, when Maganza's traitors made repair, With those ill purchasers of Spain to trade, Found such a faithful comrade in the maid.

XXII They deck the ground for the ensuing day; And Charlemagne takes care himself to see That they the place shall sumptuously array, Wherein Marphisa's baptism is to be. Bishops are gathered, learned clerks, and they Who ken the laws of Christianity; That taught in all its doctrine by their care And holy skill may be that martial fair.

XXIII In sacred stole, pontifical, arraid, Her the archbishop Turpin did baptize; Charlemagne from the healthful font the maid Uplifted with befitting ceremonies. But it is time the witless head to aid With that, which treasured in the phial lies, Wherewith Astolpho, from the lowest star, Descended in Elias' fiery car.

XXIV The duke descended from the lucid round, On this our earthly planet's loftiest height. Wither he with that blessed vase was bound, Which was the mighty champion's brain to right. A herb of sovereign virtue on that ground The apostle shows, and with it bids the knight The Nubian's eyeballs touch, when him anew He visits, and restore that sovereign's view.

XXV That he, for this and for his first desert, May give him bands, Biserta to assail; And shows him how that people inexpert He may to battle train, in plate and mail; And how to pass the deserts, without hurt, Where men are dazzled by the sandy gale. The order that throughout should be maintained From point to point, the sainted sire explained;

XXVI Then made him that plumed beast again bestride, Rogero's and Atlantes' steed whilere. By sainted John dismist, his reverend guide, Those holy regions left the cavalier; And coasting Nile, on one or the other side, Saw Nubia's realm before him soon appear; And there, in its chief city, to the ground Descended, and anew Senapus found.

XXVII Great was the joy, and great was the delight, Wherewith that king received the English lord; Who well remembered how the gentle knight Had from the loathsome harpies freed his board. But when the humour, that obscured his sight, Valiant Astolpho scaled, and now restored Was the blind sovereign's eyesight as before, He would that warrior as a god adore.

XXVIII So that not only those whom he demands For the Bisertine war, he gives in aid; But adds a hundred thousand from his bands, And offer of his royal person made. Scarce on the open plain embattled stands, — All foot — the Nubian host, for war arraid. For few the horses which that region bore; Of elephants and camels a large store.

XXIX The night before the day, when on its road The Nubian force should march, Astolpho rose, And his winged hippogryph again bestrode: Then, hurrying ever south, in fury goes To a high hill, the southern wind's abode; Whence he towards the Bears in fury blows: There finds a cave, through whose strait entrance breaks The fell and furious Auster, when he wakes.

XXX He, as his master erst instruction gave, With him an empty bladder had conveyed; Which, at the vent of that dim Alpine cave, Wherein reposed the wearied wind, was laid Quaintly and softly by the baron brave; And so unlooked for was the ambuscade, That, issuing forth at morn, to sweep the plains, Auster imprisoned in the skin remains.

XXXI To Nubia he, rejoicing in his prey, Returns; and with that very light the peer, With the black host, sets out upon his way, And lets the victual follow in his rear. Towards Mount Atlas with his whole array In safety goes the glorious cavalier. Through shifting plains of powdery sand he past, Nor dreaded danger from the sultry blast;

XXXII And having gained the mountain's hither side, Whence are discerned the plain, and distant brine, He chooses from the swarm he has to guide The noblest and most fit for discipline; And makes them, here and there, in troops divide, At a hill's foot, wherewith the plains confine; Then leaves his host and climbs the hill's ascent, Like one that is on lofty thoughts intent.

XXXIII After he, lowly kneeling in the dust, His holy master had implored, in true Assurance he was heard, he downward thrust A heap of stones. O what things may he do That in the Saviour wholly puts his trust! The stones beyond the use of nature grew; Which rolling to the sandy plain below, Next, neck and muzzle, legs and belly show.

XXXIV They, neighing shrill, down narrow paths repair, With lusty leaps; and lighting on the plain, Uplift the croup, like coursers as they are, Some bay, some roan, and some of dapple stain. The crowds that waiting in the valleys were, Layed hands on them, and seized them by the rein. Thus in a thought each soldier had his horse, Born ready reined and saddled for the course.

XXXV He fourscore thousand of his Nubian power, One hundred and two footmen, in a day To horsemen changes, who wide Afric scour, And, upon every side, sack, burn, and slay. Agramant had intrusted town and tower, Till his return, to king Branzardo's sway, To Fersa's king, and him of the Algaziers; And these against Astolpho lead their spears.

XXXVI Erewhile a nimble bark, with sail and oar, They had dispatched, which, stirring feet and wings, News of the Nubian monarch's outrage bore To Agramant from his vicegerent kings, That rests not, night nor day, till to the shore Of Provence she her doleful tiding brings; And finds her monarch half subdued in Arles, For camped within a mile was conquering Charles.

XXXVII Agramant, hearing in what peril lies His realm, through his attack on Pepin's reign, Him in this pressing peril to advise, Calls kings and princes of the paynim train; And when he once or twice has turned his eyes On sage Sobrino and the king of Spain, — Eldest and wisest they those lords among — The monarch so bespeaks the assembled throng:

XXXVIII "Albeit if fits not captain, as I know, To say, 'on this I thought not,' this I say; Because when from a quarter comes the blow, From every human forethought far away, 'Tis for such fault a fair excuse, I trow; And here all hinges; I did ill to lay Unfurnished Africk open to attack, If there was ground to fear the Nubian sack.

XXXIX "But who could think, save only God on high Prescient of all which is to be below, That, from land, beneath such distant sky, Such mighty host would come, to work us woe? 'Twixt shifting sands, which restless whirlwinds blow: Yet they their camp have round Biserta placed, And laid the better part of Africk waste.

XL "I now on this, O peers! your counsel crave. If, bootless, homeward I should wend my way, Or should not such a fair adventure wave, Till Charles with me a prisoner I convey; Or how I may as well our Africk save, And ruin this redoubted empire, say. Who can advise, is prayed his lore to shew, That we may learn the best, and that pursue."

XLI He said; and on Marsilius seated nigh Next turned his eyes, who in the signal read, That it belonged to him to make reply To what the king of Africa had said. The Spaniard rose, and bending reverently To Agramant the knee as well as head, Again his honoured seat in council prest, And in these words the Moorish king addrest:

XLII "My liege, does Rumour good or ill report, It still increases them; hence shall I ne'er, Under despondence, lack for due support, Nor bolder course than is befitting steer, For what may chance, of good or evil sort; Weighing in even balance hope and fear, O'errated still; and which we should not mete By what I hear so many tongues repeat;

XLIII "Which should so much more doubtfully be viewed, As it seems less with likelihood to stand. Now it is seen, if there be likelihood, That king who reigns in so remote a land, Followed by such a mighty multitude, Should set his foot on warlike Africk's strand; Traversing sands, to which in evil hour Cambyses trusted his ill-omened power.

XLIV "I well believe, that from some neighbouring hill The Arabs have poured down, to waste the plain; Who, for the country was defended ill, Have taken, burnt, destroyed and sacked and slain; And that Branzardo, who your place doth fill, As viceroy and lieutenant of the reign, Has set down thousands, where he tens should write; The better to excuse him in your sight.

XLV "The Nubian squadrons, I will even yield, Have been rained down on Africk from the skies; Or haply they have come, in clouds concealed, In that their march was hidden from all eyes: Think you, because unaided in the field, Your Africk from such host in peril lies? Your garrisons were sure of coward vein, If they were scared by such a craven train.

XLVI "But will you send some frigates, albeit few, (Provided that unfurled your standards be) No sooner shall they loose from hence, that crew Of spoilers shall within their confines flee; — Nubians are they, or idle Arabs — who, Knowing that you are severed by the sea From your own realm, and warring with our band, Have taken courage to assail your land.

XLVII "Now take your time for vengeance, when the son Of Pepin is without his nephew's aid. Since bold Orlando is away, by none Of the hostile sect resistance can be made. If, through neglect or blindness, be foregone The glorious Fortune, which for you has stayed, She her bald front, as now her hair, will show, To our long infamy and mighty woe."

XLVIII Thus warily the Spanish king replied, Proving by this and other argument, The Moorish squadrons should in France abide, Till Charlemagne was into exile sent. But King Sobrino, he that plainly spied The scope whereon Marsilius was intent, To public good preferring private gain, So spake in answer to the king of Spain:

XLIX "My liege, when I to peace exhorted you, Would that my prophecy had proved less just! Of, if I was to prove a prophet true, Ye in Sobrino had reposed more trust, Than in King Rodomont and in that crew, Alzirdo, Martasine and Marbalust! Whom I would here see gladly, front to front; But see most gladly boastful Rodomont.

L "To twit that warrior with his threat to do By France, what by the brittle glass is done; And throughout heaven and hell your course pursue, Yea (as the monarch said) your course outrun. Yet lapt in foul and loathsome ease, while you So need his help, lies Ulien's lazy son; And I, that as a coward was decried For my true prophecy, am at your side;

LI "And ever will be while this life I bear; Which, albeit 'tis with yours sore laden, still Daily for you is risked with them that are The best of France; and — be he who he will — There is not mortal living, who will dare To say Sobrino's deeds were ever ill: Yea, many who vaunt more, amid your host, Have not so much, nay lighter, cause for boast.

LII "I speak, these words to show that what whilere I said and say again, has neither sprung From evil heart, nor is the fruit of fear; But that true love and duty move my tongue. You homeward with what haste you may to steer, I counsel, your assembled bands among; For little is the wisdom of that wight, Who risks his own to gain another's right.

LIII "If there be gain, ye know, Late thirty-two, Your vassal kings, with you our sails we spread; Now, if we pause to sum the account anew, Hardly a third survives; the rest are dead. May it please Heaven no further loss ensue! But if you will pursue your quest, I dread Lest not a fourth nor fifth will soon remain; And wholly spent will be your wretched train.

LIV "Orlando's absence so far aids, that where Our troops are few, there haply none would be; But not through this removed our perils are, Though it prolongs our evil destiny. Behold Rinaldo! whom his deeds declare No less than bold Orlando; of his tree There are the shoots; with paladin and peer, Our baffled Saracens' eternal fear;

LV "And the other Mars (albeit against my heart It goes to waste my praise upon a foe); I speak of the redoubted Brandimart, Whose feats no less than fierce Orlando's show; Whose mighty prowess I have proved in part, In part, at others' cost I see and know. Then many days Orlando has been gone; Yet we have lost more fields than we have won.

LVI "I fear, if heretofore our band has lost, A heavier forfeit will henceforth be paid. Blotted is Mandricardo from our host; Martial Gradasso hath withdrawn his aid; Marphisa, at our worst, has left her post; So Argier's lord; of whom it may be said, Where he as true as strong, we should not need Gradasso and the Tartar king, to speed.

LVII "While aids like these are lost to our array, While on our side such slaughtered thousands lie, Those looked-for are arrived, nor on her way Is any vessel fraught with new supply — Charles has been joined by four, that, as they say, Might with Orlando or Rinaldo vie; With reasons, for from hence to Bactrian shore, Ill would you hope to find such other four.

LVIII "I know not if you know who Guido are, Sansonet, and the sons of Olivier. For these I more respect, more fear I bear, Than any warlike duke or cavalier, Of Almayn's or of other lineage fair, Who for the Roman empire rests the spear, Though I misrate not those of newer stamp, That, to our scathe, are gathered in their camp.

LIX "As often as ye issue on the plain, Worsted so oft, or broken, shall you be. If oft united Africa and Spain Were losers, when sixteen to eight were we, What will ensue, when banded with Almayn Are England, Scotland, France, and Italy? When with our six twice six their weapons cross, What else can we expect but shame and loss?

LX "You lose your people here, and there your reign, If you in this emprize are obstinate; — Returning — us, the remnant of your train, You save, together with your royal state. It were ill done to leave the king of Spain, Since all for this would hold you sore ingrate; Yet there's a remedy in peace; which, so It pleases but yourself, will please the foe.

LXI "But, if, as first defeated, on your part It seems a shame to offer peace, and ye Have war and wasteful battle more at heart, Waged hitherto with what success you see, At least to gain the victory use art, Which may be yours, if you are ruled by me. Lay all our quarrel's trial on one peer, And let Rogero be that cavalier.

LXII "Such our Rogero is, ye know and I, That — pitted one to one in listed fight — Not Roland, not Rinaldo stands more high, Nor whatsoever other Christian knight. But would ye kindle warfare far and nigh, Though superhuman be that champion's might, The warrior is but one mid many spears, Matched singly with a host of martial peers.

LXIII "Meseemeth, if to you it seemeth good, Ye should propose to Charles the war to end; And that, to spare the constant waste of blood, Which his, and countless of your warriors spend, He — by a knight of yours to be withstood — A champion, chosen from his best should send; And those two all the warfare wage alone, Till one prevails, and one is overthrown;

LXIV "On pact the king, whose champion in the just Is loser, tribute to that other pay. Nor will this pact displease King Charles, I trust, Though his was the advantage in the fray. Then of his arms Rogero so robust I deem, that he will surely win the day; Who would prevail (so certain is our right) Though Mars himself should be his opposite."

LXV With these and other sayings yet more sound, So wrought Sobrino, he his end obtained; And on that day interpreters were found, And they that day to Charles their charge explained. Charles, whom such matchless cavaliers surround. Believes the battle is already gained; And chooses good Rinaldo for the just, Next to Orlando in his sovereign's trust.

LXVI In this accord like cause for pleasure find, As well the Christian as the paynim foe: For, harassed sore in body and in mind, Those warriors all were weary, all were woe. Each in repose and quietude designed To pass what time remained to him below: Each cursed the senseless anger and the hate Which stirred their hearts to discord and debate.

LXVII Rinaldo felt himself much magnified, That Charles, for what in him so strong weighed, More trusted him than all his court beside, And glad the honoured enterprise assayed: Rogero he esteemed not in his pride, And thought he ill could keep him from his blade. Nor deemed the Child could equal him in fight, Albeit he slew in strife the Tartar knight.

LXVIII Rogero, though much honoured, on his part, That him his king has chosen from the rest, To whom a trust so weighty to impart, As of his many martial lords the best, Yet shows a troubled face; not that the heart Of that good knight unworthy fears molest; Not only none Rinaldo would have bred; Him, with Orlando leagued, he would not dread —

LXIX But because sister of the Christian knight (He knows) is she, his consort true and dear; That to the stripling evermore did write, As one sore injured by that cavalier. Now, if to ancient sins he should unite A mortal combat with Montalban's peer, Her, although loving, will he anger so, Not lightly she her hatred will forego.

LXX If silently Rogero made lament That he in his despite must battle do; In sobs his consort dear to hers gave vent, When shortly to her ears the tidings flew. She beat her breast, her golden tresses rent: Fast, scalding tears her innocent cheeks bedew: She taxes young Rogero as ingrate, And aye cries out upon her cruel fate.

LXXI Nought can result to Bradamant but pain, Whatever is the doubtful combat's end. She will not think Rogero can be slain; For this, 'twould seem, her very heart would rend; And should our Lord the fall of France ordain, That kingdom for more sins than one to amend, The gentle maid, beside a brother's loss, Would have to weep a worse and bitterer cross.

LXXII For, without shame and scorn, she never may, Not without hatred of her kin combined, To her loved lord return in such a way As that it may be known of all mankind; As, thinking upon this by night and day, She oftentimes had purposed in her mind; And so by promise both were tied withal, Room for repentance and retreat was small.

LXXIII But she, that ever, when things adverse were, With faithful succour Bradamant had stayed, I say the weird Melissa, could not bear To hear the wailings of the woeful maid; She hurried to console her in her care, And proffered succour in due time and said, She would disturb that duel 'twixt the twain, The occasion of such grief and cruel pain.

LXXIV Meanwhile their weapons for the future fray Rogero and Duke Aymon's son prepared; The choice whereof with that good warrior lay, The Roman empire's knight by Charles declared; And he, like one that ever from the day He lost his goodly steed afoot had fared, Made choice, afoot and fenced with plate and mail, His foe with axe and dagger to assail.

LXXV Whether Chance moved Mountalban's martial lord, Or Malagigi, provident and sage, That knew how young Rogero's charmed sword Cleft helm and hauberk in its greedy rage, One and the other warrior made accord, (As said) without their faulchions to engage. The place of combat chosen by that twain Was near old Arles, upon a spacious plain.

LXXVI Watchful Aurora hardly from the bower Of old Tithonus hath put forth her head, To give beginning to the day and hour Prefixed and ordered for that duel dread, When deputies from either hostile power, On this side and on that forth issuing, spread Tents at each entrance of the lists; and near The two pavillions, both, an altar rear.

LXXVII After short pause, was seen upon the plain The paynim host in different squadrons dight. Rich in barbarick pomp, amid that train, Rode Africk's monarch, ready armed for fight: Bay was the steed he backed, with sable mane; Two of his legs were pied, his forehead white Fast beside Agramant, Rogero came, And him to serve Marsilius thought no shame.

LXXVIII The casque that he from Mandricardo wrung In single combat with such travel sore, The casque that (as in loftier strain is sung) Cased Hector's head, a thousand years before, Marsilius carried, by his side, among Princes and lords, that severally bore The other harness of Rogero bold, Enriched with precious pearls and rough with gold.

LXXIX On the other part, without his camp appears Charles, with his men at arms in squadrons dight; Who in such order led his cavaliers, As they would keep, if marshalled for the fight. Fenced is the monarch with his famous peers, And with him wends, all armed, Montalban's knight, Armed, save his helmet, erst Mambrino's casque; To carry which is Danish Ogier's task;

LXXX And, of two axes, hath Duke Namus one, King Salamon the other: Charlemagne Is to this side, with all his following, gone, To that wend those of Africk and of Spain. In the mid space between the hosts is none; Empty remains large portion of the plain; For he is doomed to death who thither goes, By joint proclaim, except the chosen foes.

LXXXI After the second choice of arms was made By him, the champion of the paynim clan, Thither two priests of either sect conveyed Two books; that, carried by one holy man, — Him of our law — Christ's perfect life displayed; Those others' volume was their Alcoran. The emperor in his hands the Gospel took, The king of Africa that other book.

LXXXII Charlemagne, at his altar, to the sky Lifted his hands, "O God, that for our sake" (Exclaimed the monarch) "wast content to die, Thyself a ransom for our sins to make; — O thou that found such favour in his eye, That God from thee the flesh of man did take, Borne for nine months within thy holy womb, While aye thy virgin flower preserved its bloom,

LXXXIII "Hear, and be witnesses of what I say, For me and those that after me shall reign, To Agramant and those that heir his sway, I twenty loads of gold of perfect grain Will every year deliver, if to-day My champion vanquished in the lists remain; And vow I will straightway from warfare cease, And from henceforth maintain perpetual peace;

LXXXIV "And may your joint and fearful wrath descend On me forthwith, if I my word forego! And may it me and mine alone offend, And none beside, amid this numerous show! That all in briefest time may comprehend, My breach of promise has brought down the woe." So saying, in his hand the holy book Charles held, and fixed on heaven his earnest look.

LXXXV This done, they seek that altar, sumptuously Decked for the purpose, by the pagan train; Where their king swears, that he will pass the sea, With all his army, to his Moorish reign, And to King Charles will tributary be; If vanquished, young Rogero shall remain; And will observe the truce for evermore Upon the pact declared by Charles before;

LXXXVI And like him, nor in under tone, he swears, Calling on Mahound to attest his oath; And on the volume which his pontiff bears, To observe what he has promised plights his troth. Then to his side each hastily repairs; And mid their several powers are harboured both. Next these, to swear arrive the champions twain; And this the promise which their oaths contain.

LXXXVII Rogero pledges first his knightly word, Should his king mar, or send to mar, the fray, He him no more as leader or as lord Will serve, but wholly Charlemagne obey. — Rinaldo — if in breach of their accord, Him from the field King Charles would bear away, Till one or the other is subdued in fight, That he will be the Moorish monarch's knight.

LXXXVIII When ended are the ceremonies, here And there, to seek their camps the two divide. Nor long, therein delayed; when trumpets clear The time for their encounter signified: Now to the charge advanced each cavalier, Measuring with cautious care his every stride. Lo! the assault begins; now low, now high, That pair the sounding steel in circles ply.

LXXXIX Now with the axe's blade, now with its heel Their strokes they at the head or foot address; And these so skilfully and nimbly deal, As needs must shock all credence to express. The Child, that at her brother aims the steel, Who doth his miserable soul possess, Evermore with such caution strikes his blow, That he is deemed less vigorous than his foe.

XC Rather to parry then to smite intent, He know not what to wish; that low should lie Rinaldo, would Rogero ill content, Nor willingly the Child by him would die. But here I am at my full line's extent, Where I must needs defer my history. In other canto shall the rest appear, If you that other canto please to hear.

CANTO 39

ARGUMENT Agramant breaks the pact, is overthrown, And forced fair France for Afric to forego. Meanwhile Astolpho in Biserta's town Having with numerous host besieged the foe, By hazard there arrives bold Milo's son, To whom the duke, instructed how to do, Restores his wits. At sea does Dudon meet King Agramant, and sore annoys his fleet.

I Than that fell woe which on Rogero weighs Harder, and bitterer pain forsooth is none, Which upon flesh and more on spirit preys: For of two deaths there is no scaping one. Him, if in strife o'erlaid, Rinaldo slays, Bradamant, if Rinaldo is outdone: For if he killed her brother, well he knew Her hate, than death more hateful, would ensue.

II Rinaldo, unimpeded by such thought, Strove in all ways Rogero to o'erthrow; Fierce and despiteous whirled his axe, and sought Now in the arms, now head, to wound the foe. Rogero circled here and there, and caught Upon his weapon's shaft the coming blow; And, if ever smote, aye strove to smite Where he should injure least Montalban's knight.

III To most of them that led the paynim bands, But too unequal seemed the fierce assay. Too slowly young Rogero plied his hands; Too well Rinaldo kept the Child at bay. With troubled face the king of Afric stands: He sighed, and breathless gazed upon the fray; And all the blame of that ill counsel flung On King Sobrino's head, from whom it sprung.

IV Meanwhile the weird Melissa, she — the font Of all that wizards or enchanters know — Had by her art transformed her female front, And taken Argier's mighty shape; in show And gesture she appeared as Rodomont, And seemed, like him, in dragon's hide to go: Such was her belied sword and such her shield; Nor aught was wanting which he wore afield.

V She towards Troyano's mournful son did guide, In form of courser, a familiar sprite, And with a troubled visage loudly cried, "My liege, this is too foul an oversight, A stripling boy in peril yet untried, Against a Gaul, so stout and famed in fight, Your champion in so fierce a strife to make; Where Afric's realm and honour are at stake.

VI "Let not this battle be pursued, my lord, In that 'twould cost our Moorish cause too dear. Let sin of broken faith and forfeit word Fall upon Rodomont! take thou no fear! Let each now show the metal of his sword, Each for a hundred stands when I am here." So upon Agramant this counsel wrought, That king pressed forward without further thought.

VII He, thinking that the monarch of Algiers Is with him, of the pact has little care; And would not rate a thousand cavaliers So high, if handed in his aid they were. Hence steeds reined-in and spurred, hence levelled spears Are seen in one short instant here and there. Melissa, when the hosts are mixed in fight By her false phantoms, vanishes from sight.

VIII The champions two, that, against all accord, Against all faith, disturbed their duel see, No longer strive in fight, but pledge their word — Yea, put aside all hostile injury — That they, on neither part, will draw the sword, Until they better certified shall be Who broke the pact, established by that twain, Young Agramant, or aged Charlemagne.

IX They sweat anew, the king who had o'erthrown That truce, and broken faith, as foe to treat. The field of combat is turned upside down; Some hurry to the charge, and some retreat. Who most deserved disgrace, who most renown, Was seen, on both hands, in the selfsame feat; All ran alike: but, 'mid that wild affray, These ran to meet the foe, those ran away.

X As greyhound in the slip, that the fleet hare Scowering about and circling him discerns, Nor with the other dogs a part can bear (For him the hunter holds), with anger burns; Torments himself and mourns in his despair, And whines, and strives against the leash, by turns; Such till that moment had the fury been Of Aymon's daughter and the martial queen.

XI They till that hour upon the spacious plain, Had watched so rich a prize throughout the day; And, as obliged by treaty to refrain From laying hands upon the costly prey, Had sore lamented and had grieved in vain, Gazing with longing eyes on that array. Now seeing truce and treaty broke, among The Moorish squadrons they rejoicing sprung.

XII Marphisa piercing her first victim's breast, (Two yards beyond his back the lance did pass) In briefer time than 'tis by me exprest, Broke with her sword four helms which flew like glass; No less did Bradamant upon the rest; But them her spear reduced to other pass. All touched by that gold lance she overthrew; Doubling Marphisa's score; yet none she slew.

XIII They witness to each others' exploits are, (Those maids to one another are so near) Then, whither fury drives, the martial pair, Dividing, through the Moorish ranks career. Who could each several warrior's name declare, Stretched on the champaign by that golden spear? Or reckon every head Marphisa left Divided by her horrid sword, or cleft?

XIV As when benigner winds more swiftly blow, And Apennine his shaggy back lays bare, Two turbid torrents with like fury flow, Which, in their fall, two separate channels wear, Uproot hard rocks, and mighty trees which grow On their steep banks, and field and harvest bear Into the vale, and seem as if they vied Which should do mightiest damage on its side:

XV So those high-minded virgin warriors two, Scowering the field in separate courses, made Huge havock of the Moors; whom they pursue One with couched lance, and one with lifted blade. Hardly King Agramant his Africk crew From flight, beneath his royal banners stayed: In search of Rodomont, he vainly turned; Nor tidings of the missing warrior learned.

XVI He at his exhortation (so he trowed) Had broke the treaty made in solemn wise, To witness which the gods were called aloud; Who then so quick vanished from his eyes: Nor sees he King Sobrino; disavowed By King Sobrino is the deed, who flies To Arles, and deems that day some vengeance dread Will fall on Agramant's devoted head.

XVII Marsilius too is fled into the town: So has that monarch holy faith at heart. 'Tis hence, that feebly King Troyano's son Resists the crew, that war on Charles's part, Italians, English, Germans; of renown Are all; and, scattered upon every part, Are mixed the paladins, those barons bold, Glittering like jewels on a cloth of gold;

XVIII And, with those peers, is more than one confest As perfect as is earthly cavalier, Guide the savage, that intrepid breast, And those two famous sons of Olivier. I will not now repeat what I exprest Of that fierce, daring female twain whilere; Who on the field so many Moors extend, No number is there to the slain or end.

XIX But, putting this affray some while aside, Without a pinnace will I pass the sea. To them of France so fast I am not tied, But that Astolpho should remembered be: Of the grace given him by his holy guide I told erewhile, and told (it seems to me) Branzardo and the king of Algaziers Against the duke had mustered all their spears.

XX Such as the monarchs could in haste engage, Raked from all Africa, that host contained; Whether of fitting or of feeble age: Scarce from impressing women they refrained, Resolved his thirst of vengeance to assuage, Agramant twice his Africa had drained. Few people in the land were left, and they A feeble and dispirited array.

XXI So proved they; for the foe was scarce in view, Before that levy broke in panic dread: Like sheep, their quailing bands Astolpho slew, Charging at his more martial squadrons' head; And with the slain filled all that champaign; few Into Biserta from the carnage fled. A prisoner valiant Bucifar remained; The town in safety King Branzardo gained;

XXII More grieved as Bucifaro's loss alone, Than had he lost the rest in arms arrayed. Wide and in want of ramparts is the town; And these could ill be raised without his aid. While fain to ransom him, he thinks upon The means, and stands afflicted and dismayed, He recollects him how the paladin, Dudon, has many a month his prisoner been.

XXIII Him under Monaco, upon the shore, In his first passage, Sarza's monarch took. Thenceforth had been a prisoner evermore Dudon, who was derived of Danish stock. The paladin against the royal Moor Branzardo thought, in this distress, to truck; And knowing through sure spy, Astolpho led The Nubians, to that chief the offer sped.

XXIV A paladin himself, Astolpho knows He gladly ought a paladin to free; And when that case the Moorish envoy shows, To King Branzardo's offer does agree. Dudon from prison loosed, his thanks bestows; And whatsoe'er pertains to land or sea, Bestirs him to accomplish, in accord With his illustrious chief, the English lord.

XXV Astolpho leading such a countless band As might have well seven Africas opprest, And recollecting 'twas the saint's command, Who upon him whilere imposed the quest, That fair Provence and Aquamorta's strand He from the reaving Saracen should wrest, Made through his numerous host a second draught Of such as least inapt for sea he thought;

XXVI And filling next as full as they could be His hands with many different sorts of leaves, Plucked from palm, olive, bay and cedar tree, Approached the shore, and cast them on the waves. Oh blessed souls! Oh great felicity! O grace! which rarely man from God receives; O strange and wondrous miracle, which sprung Out of those leaves upon the waters flung!

XXVII They wax in number beyond all esteem; Becoming crooked and heavy, long, and wide. Into hard timber turn and solid beam, The slender veins that branch on either side: Taper the masts; and, moored in the salt stream, All in a thought transformed to vessels, ride; And of as diverse qualities appear, As are the plants, whereon they grew whilere.

XXVIII It was a miracle to see them grown To galliot, galley, frigate ship, and boat; Wondrous, that they with tackling of their own, Are found as well as any barks afloat. Nor lack there men to govern them, when blown By blustering winds — from islands not remote — Sardinia or Corsica, of every rate, Pilot and patron, mariner and mate.

XXIX Twenty-six thousand were the troop that manned Those ready barks of every sort and kind. To Dudon's government, by sea or land A leader sage, the navy was consigned; Which yet lay anchored off the Moorish strand, Expecting a more favourable wind, To put to sea; when, freighted with a load Of prisoners, lo! a vessel made the road.

XXX She carried those, whom at the bridge of dread, — On that so narrow place of battle met — Rodomont took, as often has been said. The valiant Olivier was of the set, Orlando's kin, and, with them, prisoners led, Were faithful Brandimart and Sansonet, With more; to tell whereof there is no need; Of German, Gascon, or Italian seed.

XXXI The patron, yet unweeting he should find Foes in the port, here entered to unload; Having left Argier many miles behind, Where he was minded to have made abode; Because a boisterous, overblowing, wind Had driven his bark beyond her destined road; Deeming himself as safe and welcome guest, As Progne, when she seeks her noisy nest.

XXXII But when, arrived, the imperial eagle spread, And pards and golden lilies he descries, With countenance as sicklied o'er by dread, He stands, as one that in unwary guise, Has chanced on fell and poisonous snake to tread, Which, in the grass, opprest with slumber lies; And, pale and startled, hastens to retire From that ill reptile, swoln with bane and ire.

XXXIII But no retreat from peril is there here, Nor can the patron keep his prisoners down: Him thither Brandimart and Olivier, Sansonet and those others drag, where known And greeted are the friends with joyful cheer, By England's duke and Danish Ogier's son; Who read that he who brought them to that shore Should for his pains be sentenced to the oar.

XXXIV King Otho's son kind welcome did afford Unto those Christian cavaliers, as said: Who — honoured at his hospitable board — With arms and all things needful were purveyed. His going, for their sake, the Danish lord Deferred, who deemed his voyage well delayed, To parley with those peers, though at the cost Of one or two good days, in harbour lost.

XXXV Of Charles, and in what state, what order are The affairs of France they gave advices true; Told where he best could disembark, and where To most advantage of the Christian crew. While so the cavaliers their news declare, A noise is heard; which ever louder grew, Followed by such a fierce alarm withal, As to more fears than one gave rise in all.

XXXVI The duke Astolpho and the goodly throng, That in discourse with him were occupied, Armed in a moment, on their coursers sprung, And hurried where the Nubians loudest cried; And seeking wherefore that wide larum rung, Now here, now there — those warlike lords espied A savage man, and one so strong of hand, Naked and sole he troubled all that band.

XXXVII The naked savage whirled a sapling round, So hard, so heavy, and so strong of grain, That every time the weapon went to ground, Some warrior, more than maimed, opprest the plain. Above a hundred dead are strewed around; Nor more defence the routed hands maintain; Save that a war of distant parts they try; For there is none will wait the champion nigh.

XXXVIII Astolpho, Brandimart, the Danish knight, Hastening towards that noise with Olivier, Remain astounded at the wondrous might And courage, which in that wild man appear. When, posting thither on a palfry light, Is seen a damsel, clad in sable gear. To Brandimart in haste that lady goes, And both her arms about the warrior throws.

XXXIX This was fair Flordelice, whose bosom so Burned with the love of Monodantes' son, She, when she left him prisoner to his foe At that streight bridge, had nigh distracted gone. From France had she past hither — given to know — By that proud paynim, who the deed had done, How Brandimart, with many cavaliers, Was prisoner in the city of Algiers.

XL When now she for that harbour would have weighed, An eastern vessel in Marseilles she found, Which thither had an ancient knight conveyed: Of Monodantes' household; a long round To seek his Brandimart that lord had made, By sea, and upon many a distant ground. For he, upon his way, had heard it told, How he in France should find the warrior bold.

XLI She knowing old Bardino in that wight, Bardino who from Monodantes' court With little Brandimart had taken flight, And reared his nursling in THE SYLVAN FORT; Then hearing what had thither brought the knight, With her had made him loosen from the port; Relating to that elder, by what chance Brandimart had to Africk passed from France.

XLII As soon as landed, that Biserta lies Besieged by good Astolpho's band, they hear; That Brandimart is with him in the emprize, They learn, but learn not as a matter clear. Now in such haste to him the damsel flies, When she beholds her faithful cavalier, As plainly shows her joy; which woes o'erblown Had made the mightiest she had ever known.

XLIII The gentle baron no less gladly eyed His faithful and beloved consort's face; Her whom he prized above all things beside; And clipt and welcomed her with loving grace; Nor his warm wishes would have satisfied A first, a second, or a third embrace, But that he spied Bardino, he that came From France, together with that faithful dame.

XLIV He stretched his arms, and would embrace the knight; And — wherefore he was come — would bid him say: But was prevented by the sudden flight Of the sacred host, which fled in disarray, Before the club of that mad, naked wight, Who with the brandished sapling cleared his way. Flordelice viewed the furious man in front; And cried to Brandimart, "Behold the count!"

XLV At the same time, withal, Astolpho bold That this was good Orlando plainly knew, By signs, whereof those ancient saints had told, In the earthly paradise, as tokens true. None of those others, who the knight behold, The courteous baron in the madman view; That from long self-neglect, while wild he ran, Had in his visage more of beast than man.

XLVI With breast and heart transfixed with pity, cried Valiant Astolpho — bathed with many a tear — Turning to Danish Dudon, at this side, And afterwards to valiant Olivier; "Behold Orlando!" Him awhile they eyed, Straining their eyes and lids; then knew the peer; And, seeing him in such a piteous plight, Were filled with grief and wonder at the sight.

XLVII So grieve and so lament the greater part Of those good warriors, that their eyes o'erflow. " 'Tis time" (Astolpho cried) "to find some art To heal him, not indulge in useless woe"; And from his courser sprang: bold Brandimart, Olivier, Sansonet and Dudon so All leap to ground, and all together make At Roland, whom the warriors fain would take.

XLVIII Seeing the circle round about him grow, Levels his club that furious paladin, And makes fierce Dudon feel (who — couched below His buckler — on the madman would break in) How grievous is that staff's descending blow; And but that Olivier, Orlando's kin, Broke in some sort its force, that stake accurst Had shield and helmet, head and body burst.

XLIX It only burst the shield, and in such thunder Broke on the casque, that Dudon prest the shore: With that, Sir Sansonet cut clean asunder The sapling, shorn of two cloth-yards and more, So vigorous was that warrior's stroke, while under His bosom, Brandimart girt Roland sore With sinewy arms about his body flung; And to the champion's legs Astolpho clung.

L Orlando shook himself, and England's knight, Ten paces off, reversed upon the ground; Yet loosed not Brandimart, who with more might And better hold had clasped the madman round. To Olivier, too forward in that fight, He dealt so furious and so fell a wound, With his clenched fist, that pale the marquis fell; And purple streams from eyes and nostrils well;

LI And save his morion had been more than good, Bold Olivier had breathed his last, who lies, So battered with his fall, it seemed he wou'd Bequeath his parting soul to paradise. Astolpho and Dudon, that again upstood (Albeit swoln were Dudon's face and eyes) And Sansonet, who plied so well his sword, All made together at Anglantes' lord.

LII Dudon Orlando from behind embraced, And with his foot the furious peer would throw: Astolpho and others seize his arms; but waste Their strength in all attempts to hold the foe. He who has seen a bull, by mastiffs chased That gore his bleeding ears, in fury lowe, Dragging the dogs that bait him there and here, Yet from their tusks unable to get clear;

LIII Let him imagine, so Orlando drew Astolpho and those banded knights along. Meanwhile upstarted Oliviero, who By that fell fistycuff on earth was flung; And, seeing they could ill by Roland do That sought by good Astolpho and his throng, He meditates, and compasses, a way The frantic paladin on earth to lay.

LIV He many a hawser made them thither bring, And running knots in them he quickly tied; Which on the count's waist, arms, and legs, they fling; And then, among themselves, the ends divide, Conveyed to this or that amid the ring, Compassing Roland upon every side. The warriors thus Orlando flung parforce, As farrier throws the struggling ox or horse.

LV As soon as down, they all upon him are, And hands and feet more tightly they constrain: He shakes himself, and plunges here and there; But all his efforts for relief are vain. Astolpho bade them hence the prisoner bear; For he would heal (he said) the warrior's brain. Shouldered by sturdy Dudon is the load, And on the beach's furthest brink bestowed.

LVI Seven times Astolpho makes them wash the knight; And seven times plunged beneath the brine he goes. So that they cleanse away the scurf and blight, Which to his stupid limbs and visage grows. This done, with herbs, for that occasion dight, They stop his mouth, wherewith he puffs and blows. For, save his nostrils, would Astolpho leave No passage whence the count might air receive.

LVII Valiant Astolpho had prepared the vase, Wherein Orlando's senses were contained, And to his nostrils in such mode conveys, That, drawing-in his breath, the county drained The mystic cup withal. Oh wondrous case! The unsettled mind its ancient seat regained; And, in its glorious reasonings, yet more clear And lucid waxed his wisdom than whilere.

LVIII As one, that seems in troubled sleep to see Abominable shapes, a horrid crew; Monsters which are not, and which cannot be; Or seems some strange, unlawful thing to do, Yet marvels at himself, from slumber free. When his recovered senses play him true; So good Orlando, when he is made sound, Remains yet full of wonder, and astound.

LIX Aldabelle's brother, Monodantes' son, And him that on his brain such cure had wrought, He wondering marked, but word he spake to none; And when and how he was brought thither, thought. He turned his restless eyes now up now down, Nor where he was withal, imagined aught, Marvelling why he there was naked cast, And wherefore tethered, neck and heels, so fast.

LX Then said, as erst Silenus said — when seen, And taken sleeping the cave of yore — SOLVITE ME, with visage so serene, With look so much less wayward than before, That him they from his bonds delivered clean, And raiment to the naked warrior bore; All comforting their friend, with grief opprest For that delusion which had him possest.

LXI When to his former self he was recovered, Of wiser and of manlier mind than e'er, From love as well was freed the enamoured lord; And she, so gentle deemed, so fair whilere, And by renowned Orlando so adored, Did but to him a worthless thing appear. What he through love had lost, to reacquire Was his whole study, was his whole desire.

LXII Meanwhile Bardino told to Brandimart, How Monodantes, his good sire, was dead, And, on his brother, Gigliantes' part, To call him to his kingdom had he sped, As well as from those isles, which most apart From other lands, in eastern seas are spread, That prince's fair inheritance; than which Was none more pleasant, populous, or rich.

LXIII He said, mid many reasons which he prest, That home was sweet, and — were the warrior fain To taste that sweet — he ever would detest A wandering life; and Brandimart again Replies, through all that war, he will not rest From serving Roland and King Charlemagne; And after, if he lives to see its end, To his own matters better will attend.

LXIV Upon the following day, for Provence steer The shipping under Danish Dudon's care; When with the duke retired Anglantes' peer, And heard that lord the warfare's state declare: Then prest with siege Biserta, far and near, But let good England's knight the honour wear Of every vantage; while Astolpho still In all was guided by Orlando's will.

LXV The order taken to attack the town Of huge Biserta, when, and on what side; How, at the first assault, the walls are won, And with Orlando who the palm divide, Lament not that I now shall leave unshown, Since for short time I lay my tale aside. In the meanwhile, how fierce an overthrow The Moors received in France, be pleased to know.

LXVI Well nigh abandoned was their royal lord In his worst peril; for to Arles again Had gone, with many of the paynim horde, The sage Sobrino and the king of Spain; Who, for the deemed the land unsafe, aboard Their barks sought refuge, with a numerous train, Barons and cavaliers, that served the Moor; Who moved by their example put from shore.

LXVII Yet royal Agramant the fight maintains; But when he can no longer make a stand, Turns from the combat, and directly strains For Arles, not far remote, upon the strand. Him Rabican pursues, with flowing reins, Whom Aymon's daughter drives with heel and hand. Him would she slay, through whom so often crost, That martial maid had her Rogero lost.

LXVIII Marphisa by the same desire was stirred, Who had her thoughts on tardy vengeance placed, For her dead sire; and as she fiercely spurred, Made her hot courser feel his rider's haste. But neither martial maid, amid that herd Of flying Moors, so well the monarch chased, As to o'ertake him in his swift retreat, First into Arles, and then aboard his fleet.

LXIX As two fair generous pards, that from some crag Together dart, and stretch across the plain; When they perceive that vigorous goat or stag, Their nimble quarry, is pursued in vain, As if ashamed they in that chase did lag, Return repentant and in high disdain: So, with a sigh, return those damsels two, When they the paynim king in safety view:

LXX Yet therefore halt not, but in fury go Amid that crowd, which flies, possest with dread; Feeling, now here, now there, at every blow, Many that never more uprear their head. To evil pass was brought the broken foe; For safety was not even for them that fled: Since Agramant, a sure retreat to gain, Bade shut the city-gate which faced the plain;

LXXI And bade on Rhone break all the bridges down. Unhappy people, ever held as cheap — Weighed with the tyrant's want who wears a crown — As worthless herd of goats or silly sheep! These in the sea, those in the river drown; And those with blood the thirsty fallows steep. The Franks few prisoners made, and many slew; For ransom in that battle was for few.

LXXII Of the great multitude of either train, Christened or paynim, killed in that last fight, Though in unequal parts (for, of the slain, By far more Saracens were killed in flight, By hands of those redoubted damsels twain), Signs even to this day remain in sight: For, hard by Arles, where sleeps the lazy Rhone, The plain with rising sepulchres is strown.

LXXIII Meanwhile his heavy ships of deepest draught King Agramant had made put forth to sea, Leaving some barks in port — his lightest craft — For them that would aboard his navy flee: He stays two days, while they the stragglers waft, And, for the winds are wild and contrary, On the third day, to sail he give command, In trust to make return to Africk's land.

LXXIV Royal Marsilius, in that fatal hour, Fearing the costs will fall upon his Spain, And that the clouds, which big with tempest lower, In the end will burst upon his fields and grain, Makes for Valentia; where he town and tower Begins to fortify with mickle pain; And for that war prepares, which after ends In the destruction of himself and friends.

LXXV King Agramant his sails for Africk bent: His barks ill-armed and almost empty go; Empty of men, but full of discontent, In that three-fourths had perished by the foe. As cruel some, as weak and proud some shent Their king, and (as still happens in like woe) All hate him privily; but, for they fear His fury, in his presence mute appear.

LXXVI Yet sometimes two or three their lips unclose, — Some knot of friends, where each on each relies — And their pent choler and their rage expose: Yet Agramant beneath the illusion lies, That each will love and pity overflows; And this befalls, because he still espies False faces, hears but voices that applaud, And nought but adulation, lies and fraud.

LXXVII Not in Biserta's port his host to land Was the sage king of Africa's intent, Who had sure news that shore by Nubia's band Was held, but he so far above it meant To steer his Moorish squadron, that the strand Should not be steep or rugged for descent: There would he disembark, and thence would aid Forthwith his people, broken and dismaid.

LXXVIII But favoured not by his foul destiny Was that intention, provident and wise; Which willed the fleet, from leaves of greenwood tree, Produced upon the beach in wondrous guise, That, bound for France, now ploughed the foaming sea, Should meet the king at night; that from surprise In that dark, dismal hour, amid his crew Worse panic and disorder might ensue.

LXXIX Not yet to him have tidings been conveyed, That squadrons of such force the billows plow: Nor would he have believed in him who said, A hundred barks had sprung from one small bough; And hence for Africa the king had weighed, Not fearing to encounter hostile prow; Nor has he watchmen in his tops to spy, And make report of what they hence descry.

LXXX 'Twas so those ships, by England's peer supplied To Dudon, manned with good and armed crew, Which see that Moorish fleet at eventide, And that strange armament forthwith pursue, Assailed them unawares, and, far, and wide, Among those barks their grappling-irons threw, And linked by chains, to their opponents clung, When known for Moors and foemen by their tongue.

LXXXI In bearing down, impelled by winds that blow Propitious to the Danish chief's intent, Those weighty ships so shocked the paynim foe, That many vessels to the bottom went; Then, taxing wits and hands, to work them woe, Them with fire, sword, and stones the Christians shent; Which on their ships in such wide ruin pour, Like tempest never vext the sea before.

LXXXII Bold Dudon's men, to whom unwonted might And daring was imparted from on high, (Since the hour was come the paynims to requite For more than one ill deed,) from far and nigh, The Moors so pestilently gall and smite, Agramant finds no shelter; from the sky Above, thick clouds of whistling arrows strike; Around gleam hook and hatchet, sword and pike.

LXXXIII The king hears huge and heavy stones descend, From charged machine or thundering engine sent, Which, falling, poop and prow and broadside rend, Opening to ravening seas a mighty vent; And more than all the furious fires offend, Fires that are quickly kindled, slowly spent, The wretched crews would fain that danger shun, And ever into direr peril run.

LXXXIV One headlong plunged, pursued by fire and sword, And perished mid the waters, one who wrought Faster with arms and feet, his passage oared To other barque, already overfraught: But she repulsed the wretch that fain would board; Whose hand, which too importunately sought To clamber, grasped the side, while his lopt arm And body stained the wave with life-blood warm.

LXXXV Him, that to save his life i' the waters thought, Or, at the worst, to perish with less pain, (Since swimming profited the caitiff nought, And he perceived his strength and courage drain) To the hungry fires from which the refuge sought, The fear of drowning hurries back again: He grasps a burning plank, and in the dread Of dying either death, by both is sped.

LXXXVI This vainly to the sea resorts, whom spear Or hatchet, brandished close at hand, dismay; For stone or arrow following in his rear, Permit the craven to make little way. But haply, while it yet delights your ear, 'Twere well and wisely done to end my lay, Rather than harp upon the theme so long As to annoy you with a tedious song.

CANTO 40

ARGUMENT To fly the royal Agramant is fain, And sees Biserta burning far away; But landing finds the royal Sericane, Who of his faith gives goodly warrant; they Defy Orlando, backed by champions twain; Whom bold Gradasso firmly trusts to slay. For seven kings' sake, fast prisoners to their foes, Rogero and the Dane exchange rude blows.

I The diverse chances of that sea-fight dread, Here to rehearse would take a weary while; And to discourse to you upon this head, Great son of Hercules, were to Samos' isle To carry earthen vessels, as 'tis said, To Athens owls, and crocodiles the Nile. In that, my lord, by what is vouched to me, Such things you saw, such things made others see.

II Your faithful people gazed on a long show, That night and day, wherein they crowded stood, As in a theatre, and hemmed on Po Twixt fire and sword, the hostile navies viewed. What outcries may be heard, what sounds of woe, How rivers may run red with human blood, In suchlike combat, in how many a mode Men die, you saw, and you to many showed.

III I saw not, I, who was compelled to course, Evermore changing nags, six days before, To Rome, in heat and haste, some helpful force Of him our mighty pastor to implore. But, after, need was none of foot or horse, For so the lion's beak and claws you tore, From that day unto this I hear not said That he more trouble in your land has bread.

IV But Trotto, present at this victory, Afranio, Moro, Albert, Hannibal, Zerbinat, Bagno, the Ariostos three, Assured me of the mighty feat withal, Certified after by that ensignry, Suspended from the holy temple's wall, And fifteen galleys at our river-side, Which with a thousand captive barks I spied.

V He that those wrecks and blazing fires discerned, And such sore slaughter, under different shows, Which — venging us for hall and palace burned — While bark remained, raged wide among the foes, Might also deem how Africk's people mourned, With Agramant, mid diverse deaths and woes, On that dark night, when the redouted Dane Assaulted in mid sea the Moorish train.

VI 'Twas night, nor gleam was anywhere descried, When first the fleets in furious strife were blended; But when lit sulphur, pitch and tar from side And poop and prow into the sky ascended, And the destructive wild-fire, scattered wide, Fed upon ship and shallop ill defended, The things about them all descried so clear That night was changed to day, as 'twould appear.

VII Hence Agramant, that by the dark deceived, Had rated not so high the foes' array, Nor to encounter such a force believed, But would, if 'twere opposed, at last give way, When that wide darkness cleared, and he perceived (What least he weened upon the first affray) That twice as many were the ships he fought, As his own Moorish barks, took other thought.

VIII Into a boat he with some few descends, Brigliador and some precious things, to flee; And so, twixt ship and ship, in silence wends, Until he finds himself in safer sea, Far from his own; whom fiery Dudon shends, Reduced to sad and sore extremity; Them steel destroys, fires burn, and waters drown; While he, that mighty slaughter's cause, is flown.

IX Agramant flies, and with him old Sobrine, Agramant grieving he had not believed, What time that sage foresaw with eye divine, And told the woe wherewith he is aggrieved. But turn me to the valiant paladine, Who, before other aid can be received, Counsels the duke Biserta to destroy; That it no more may Christian France annoy.

X And hence in public order was it said, The camp should to its arms the third day stand; For this, it was with many barks bested; For all were placed not at the Dane's command. That fleet the worthy Sansonetto led, (As good a warrior he by sea as land) Which a mile off the port, and overight Biserta, now was anchored by the knight.

XI Orlando and the duke, like Christians true, Which dare no danger without God for guide, That fast and prayer be made their army through, Ordain by proclamation to be cried; And that upon the third day, when they view The signal, all shall bown them, far and wide, Biserta's royal city to attack, Which they, when taken, doom to fire and sack.

XII And so, when now devoutly have been done Vigil and vow, and holy prayer and fast, Kin, friends, and those to one another known, Together feast; who, when with glad repast Their wasted bodies were refreshed, begun To embrace and weep; and acts and speeches past, Upon the banquet's close, amid those crews Such as best friends, about to sever, use.

XIII The holy priests within Biserta's wall, Pray with their grieving people, and in tears, Aye beat their bosoms, and for succour call Upon their Mahomet, who nothing hears. What vigils, offerings, and what gifts withal Were promised silently, amid their fears! What temples, statues, images were vowed, In memory of their bitter woes, aloud!

XIV And, when the cadi hath his blessing said, The people arms and to the rampart hies. As yet reposing in her Tithon's bed Aurora was, and dusky were the skies; When to their posts, their several troops to head, Here Sansonetto, there Astolpho flies. And when they hear Orlando's signal blown Assault with furious force Biserta's town.

XV Washed by the sea, upon two quarters, were The city walls, two stood on the dry shore, Of a construction excellent and rare, Wherein was seen the work of days of yore: Of other bulwarks was the town nigh bare; For since Branzardo there the sceptre bore; Few masons at command, and little space That monarch had to fortify the place.

XVI The Nubian king is charged by England's peer, With sling and arrow so the Moors to gall, That none upon the works shall dare appear; And that, protected by the ceaseless fall Of stone and dart, in safety cavalier And footman may approach the very wall; Who loaded, some with plank, with rock-stone some, And some with beam, or weightier burden, come.

XVII This and that other thing the Nubians bore, And by degrees filled-up that channel wide, Whose waters were cut off the day before, So that in many parts the ooze was spied. Filled is the ditch in haste from shore to shore, And forms a level to the further side. Cheering the footmen on the works to mount, Stand Olivier, Astolpho, and the Count.

XVIII The Nubian upon hope of gain intent, Impatient of delay, nor heeding how With pressing perils they were compassed, went Protected by the sheltering boar and sow. With battering ram, and other instrument, To break the gate and make the turret bow, Speedily to the city wall they post, Nor unprovided find the paynim host.

XIX For steel, and fire, and roof, and turret there, In guise of tempest on the Nubians fell, Which plank and beam from those dread engines tear, Made for annoyance of the infidel. In the ill beginning, and while dim the air, Much injury the christened host befell; But when the sun from his rich mansion breaks, Fortune the faction of the Moor forsakes.

XX The assault is reinforced on every side, By Count Orlando, both by sea and land: The fleet, with Sansonetto for its guide, Entered the harbour, and approached the strand; And sorely they with various engines plied, With arrows and with slings, the paynim band; And sent the assailants scaling-ladder, spear, And naval stores, and every needful gear.

XXI Orlando, Oliviero, Brandimart, And he, in air so daring heretofore, Do fierce and furious battle on that part, Which lies the furthest inland from the shore: Each leads a portion of those Aethiops swart, Ordered in equal bands beneath the four, Who at the walls, the gateways, or elsewhere, All give of prowess shining proofs and rare.

XXII So better could be seen each warrior's claim, That in confused in combat there and here. Who of reward is worthy, who of shame, To a thousand and to watchful eyes is clear. Dragged upon wheels are towers of wooden frame, And others well-trained elephants uprear, Which so o'ertop the turrets of the foe, Those bulwarks stand a mighty space below.

XXIII Brandimart to the walls a ladder brought, Climbed, and to climb withal to others cried: Many succeed, with bold assurance fraught, For none can fear beneath so good a guide: Nor was there one who marked, nor one who thought Of marking, if such weight it would abide. Brandimart only, on the foes intent, Clambered and fought, and grasped a battlement.

XXIV Here clang with hand and foot the daring knight, Sprang on the embattled wall, and whirled his sword; And, showing mickle tokens of his might, The paynims charged, o'erthrew, hewed down and gored: But all at once, o'erburthened with that weight, The ladder breaks beneath the assailing horde; And, saving Brandimart, the Christians all Into the ditch with headlong ruin fall.

XXV Not therefore blenched the valiant cavalier, Nor thought he of retreat, albeit was none Of his own band that followed in his rear; Although he was a mark for all the town. Of many prayed, the warrior would not hear The prayer to turn; but mid the foes leapt down; I say, into the city took a leap, Where the town-wall was thirty cubits deep.

XXVI He, without any harm on the hard ground, As if on feathers or on straw, did light; And, like cloth shred and shorn, the paynims round In fury shreds and shears the valiant knight. Now springs on these, now those, with vigorous bound; And these and those betake themselves to flight. They that without have seen the leap he made, Too late to save him deem all human aid.

XXVII Throughout the squadrons a deep rumour flew, A murmur and a whisper, there and here, From mouth to mouth, the Fame by motion grew, And told and magnified the tale of fear: For upon many quarters stormed that crew, Where good Orlando was, where Olivier, Where Otho's son, she flew on pinions light, Nor ever paused upon her nimble flight.

XXVIII Those warriors, and Orlando most of all, Who love and prize the gentle Brandimart, Hearing, should they defy upon that call, They would from so renowned a comrade part, Their scaling-ladders plant, and mount the wall With rivalry, which shows the kingly heart; Who carry all such terror in their look, That, at the very sight, their foemen shook.

XXIX As on loud ocean, lashed by boisterous gale The billows the rash bark assault, and still — Now threatening poop, now threatening prow — assail, And, in their rage and fury, fain would fill; The pilot sighs and groans, dismaid and pale, — He that should aid, and has not heart or skill — At length a surge the pinnace sweeps and swallows, And wave on wave in long succession follows;

XXX Thus when those win the wall, they leave a space So wide, that who beneath their conduct go, Safely may follow them; for at its base, A thousand ladders have been reared below. Meanwhile the battering rams, in many a place, Have breached that wall, and with such mighty blow, The bold assailant can, from many a part, Bear succour to the gallant Brandimart.

XXXI Even with that rage wherewith the stream that reigns, The king of rivers — when he breaks his mound, And makes himself a way through Mantuan plains — The greasy furrows and glad harvests, round, And, with the sheepcotes, flock, and dogs and swains Bears off, in his o'erwhelming waters drowned; Over the elm's high top the fishes glide, Where fowls erewhile their nimble pinions plied;

XXXII Even with that rage rushed in the impetuous band, Where many breaches in the wall were wrought, To slay with burning torch and trenchant brand, That people, which to evil pass were brought. Murder and rapine there, and violent hand Dipt deep in blood and plunder, in a thought, Destroy that sumptuous and triumphant town, Which of all Africk wore the royal crown.

XXXIII Filled with dead bodies of the paynim horde, Blood issued from so many a gaping wound, A fouler fosse was formed and worse to ford Than girdles the infernal city round. From house to house the fire in fury poured; Mosque, portico, and palace, went to ground; And spoiled and empty mansions with the clang, Of beaten breast, and groan and outcry rang.

XXXIV The victors, laden with their mighty prey, From that unhappy city's gates are gone, One with fair vase, and one with rich array, Or silver plate from ancient altar won. The mother this, that bore the child away; Rapes and a thousand evil things were done. Of much, and what they cannot hinder, hear Renowned Orlando and fair England's peer.

XXXV By Olivier, amid that slaughter wide, Fell Bucifaro of the paynim band; And — every hope and comfort cast aside — Branzardo slew himself with his own brand; Pierced with three wounds whereof he shortly died, Folvo was taken by Astolpho's hand; The monarchs three, intrusted to whose care Agramant's African dominions were.

XXXVI Agramant, who had left without a guide His fleet this while, and with Sobrino fled, Wept over his Biserta when he spied Those fires that on the royal city fed. When nearer now the king was certified, How in that cruel strife his town had sped, He thought of dying, and himself had slain, But that Sobrino's words his arm restrain.

XXXVII "What victory, my lord," (Sobrino cries) "Could better than thy death the Christian cheer, Whence he might hope to joy in quiet wise Fair Africa, from all annoyance clear? Thy being yet alive this hope denies; Hence shall he evermore have cause for fear. For well the foeman knows, save thou art gone, He for short time will fill thine Africk throne.

XXXVIII "Thy subjects by thy death deprived will be Of hope, the only good they have in store, Thou, if thou liv'st, I trust, shalt set us free, Redeem from trouble, and to joy restore. Captives for ever, if thou diest, are we; Africk is tributary evermore. Although not for thyself, yet not to give My liege, annoyance to thy followers, live.

XXXIX "The soldan, he thy neighbour, will be won, Surely with men and money thee to aid: By him with evil eye King Pepin's son, So strong in Africa, will be surveyed. All efforts to restore thee to thy throne By Norandine, thy kinsman, will be made. Turk, Persian and Armenian, Arab, Mede, If prayed, will all assist thee in thy need."

XL In such and such like words, with wary art, With hope of quickly winning back his reign, Sobrino soothed the king, while in his heart He other thought perchance did entertain. Well knows he to what pass, what evil mart That lord is brought; how often sighs in vain, Whoe'er foregoes the sceptre which he swayed, And to barbarians hath recourse for aid.

XLI Jugurtha, martial Hannibal, and more In ancient times, good proof of this afford: In our own era, Lewis, hight the Moor, Delivered into other Lewis' ward. Your brother, Duke Alphonso, wiser lore Learned from their fate; — I speak to you, my lord — Wont them as very madmen to decry, That more on others than themselves rely;

XLII And therefore aye, throughout that warfare drear Waged by the pontiff, in his fierce disdain, Albeit upon his feeble powers the peer Could ill depend, though from Italian plain Was driven the friend that aided him whilere, And by the foe possessed was Naples' reign, He against menace, against promise steeled, Ne'er to another would his dukedom yield.

XLIII Eastward King Agramant had turned his prow; And seaward steered his bark, of Africk wide; When from the land a wicked wind 'gan blow, And took the reeling vessel on one side: The master, seated at the helm, his brow Raised towards heaven, and to the monarch cried: "I see so fell and fierce a tempest form, Our pinnace cannot face the pelting storm.

XLIV "If you, my lords, will listen to my lore, An isle is on our left-hand; and to me It seems that it were well to make that shore Till overblown the tempest's fury be." To his advice assents the royal Moor, And makes the larboard land, from peril free; Which, for the sailor's weal, when tempests rise, 'Twixt Vulcan's lofty forge and Africk lies.

XLV With juniper and myrtle overgrown, Of habitations is that islet bare; A pleasing solitude; and where alone Harbour wild stag and roebuck, deer and hare; And, save to fishermen, is little known, That oftentimes on the shorn brambles there Hang their moist nets; meanwhile, untroubled sleep The scaly fishes in their quiet deep.

XLVI Here other vessel, sheltered from the main, They found, by tempest tost upon that land, Which had conveyed the king of Sericane Erewhile from Arles; on one and the other hand, In reverent wise and worthy of the twain, Those valiant kings embraced upon the strand: For friends the monarchs were, and late before The walls of Paris, arms together bore.

XLVII With much displeasure Sericana's knight Heard by King Agramant his griefs displaid; Then him consoled, and in his cause to fight, Like courteous king, the kindly offer made: But brooked nat, that to Egypt's people, light And lacking faith, he should resort for aid. "That thither it is perilous to wend, Exiles (he said) are warned by Pompey's end.

XLVIII "And for Senapus' Aethiopian crew Have come beneath Astolpho, as ye show, To wrest your fruitful Africa from you, And burnt and laid her chiefest city low. And with their squadrons is Orlando, who Was wandering void of wit, short while ago, The fittest cure for all, whereby to scape Out of this trouble I, meseems, can shape.

XLIX "I, for your love, will undertake the quest, The Count in single combat to appear; He vainly would, I wot, with me contest, If wholly made of copper or of steel. I rate the Christian church, were he at rest, As wolf rates lambs, when hungering for his meal. Next have I thought how of the Nubian band — A brief and easy task — to free your land.

L "I will make other Nubians, they that hold Another faith, divided by Nile's course, And Arabs and Macrobians (rich in gold And men are these, and those in herds of horse), Chaldaean, Perse, and many more, controlled By my good sceptre, in such mighty force, Will make them war upon the Nubians' reign, Those reavers shall not in your land remain."

LI Gradasso's second offer seemed to be Most opportune to King Troyano's son; And much he blest the chances of the sea, Which him upon that desert isle had thrown: Yet would not upon any pact agree, — Nay, not to repossess Biserta's town — Gradasso should for him in fight contend; Deeming too sore his honour 'twoud offend.

LII "If Roland is to be defied, more due The battle is to me (that king replies) I am prepared for it; and let God do His will by me, in good or evil wise." " — Follow my mode; another mode and new, Which comes into my mind" (Gradasso cries), "Let both of us together wage this fight Against Orlando and another knight."

LIII "So not left out, I care not, if I be The first or last (said Agramant): I know In arms no better can I find than thee, Though I should seek a comrade, high or low, And what (Sobrino cried) becomes of me? I should be more expert if old in show; And evermore in peril it is good, Force should have Counsel in his neighbourhood."

LIV Stricken in years, yet vigorous was the sage, And well had proved himself with sword and spear; And said, he found himself in gray old age, Such as in green and supple youth whilere. They own his claim, and for an embassage Forthwith a courier find, then bid him steer For Africa, where camped the Christians lie, And Count Orlando on their part defy;

LV With equal number of armed knights to be, Matching his foes, on Lampedosa's shore; Where on all quarters that circumfluent sea, By which they are inisled, is heard to roar. The paynim messenger unceasingly, Like one in needful haste, used sail and oar, Till he found Roland in Biserta, where The host beneath his eye their plunder share.

LVI From those three monarchs to the cavalier The invitation was in public told; So pleasing to Anglante's valiant peer, To the herald he was liberal of his gold: From his companions had he heard whilere That Durindane was in Gradasso's hold: Hence, to retrieve that faulchion from the foe, To India had the Count resolved to go:

LVII Deeming he should not find that king elsewhere, Who, so he heard, had sailed from the French shore. A nearer place is offered now; and there He hopes Gradasso shall his prize restore; Moved also by Almontes' bugle rare, To accept the challenge which the herald bore; Nor less by Brigliadoro; since he knew In Agramant's possession were the two.

LVIII He chose for his companions in the fight The faithful Brandimart and Olivier: Well has he proved the one and the other's might; Knows he alike to both is passing dear. Good horses and good armour seeks the knight And goodly swords and lances, far and near, For him and his; meseems to you is known How none of those three warriors had his own.

LIX Orlando (as I oft have certified) In fury, his had scattered wide and far; Rodomont took the others', which beside The river, locked in that high turret are. Few throughout Africa could they provide; As well because to France, in that long war, King Agramant had born away the best, As because Africa but few possest.

LX What could be had of armour, rusted o'er And brown with age, Orlando bids unite; Meanwhile with his companions on the shore, He walks, discoursing on the future fight. So wandering from their camp three miles and more, It chanced that, turning towards the sea their sight, Under full sail approaching, they descried A helmless barque, with nought her course to guide.

LXI She, without pilot, without crew, alone, As wind and fortune ordered it, was bound: The vessel neared the shore, with sails full-blown, Furrowing the waves, until she took the ground. But ere of these three warriors more be shown, The love wherewith I to the Child am bound, To his story brings me back, and bids record What past 'twixt him and Clermont's warlike lord.

LXII I spake of that good pair of warriors, who Had both retreated from the martial fray, Beholding pact and treaty broken through, And every troop and band in disarray. Which leader to his oath was first untrue, And was occasion of such evil, they Study to learn of all the passing train; King Agramant or the Emperor Charlemagne.

LXIII Meanwhile a servant of the Child's, at hand, — Faithful, expert and wary was the wight, Nor in the shock of either furious band, Had ever of his warlike lord lost sight — To bold Rogero bore his horse and brand, That he might aid his comrades now in flight. Rogero backed the steed and grasped the sword; But not in battle mixed that martial lord.

LXIV Thence he departed; but he first renewed His compact with Montalban's knight — that so His Agramant convinced of perjury stood — Him and his evil sect he would forego. That day no further feats of hardihood Rogero will perform against the foe: He but demands of all that make for Arles, Who first broke faith, King Agramant or Charles?

LXV From all he hears repeated, far and near, That Agramant had broke the promise plight: He loves that king, and from his side to veer, For this, believes would be no error light. The Moors were broke and scattered (this whilere Has been rehearsed) and from the giddy height Of HER revolving wheel were downward hurled, Who at her pleasure rolls this nether world.

LXVI Rogero ponders if he should remain, Or rather should his sovereign lord attend: Love for his lady fits him with a rein And bit, which lets him not to Africk wend; Wheels him, and to a counter course again Spurs him, and threats his restive mood to shend, Save he maintains the treaty, and the troth Pledged to the paladin with solemn oath.

LXVII A wakeful, stinging care, on the other side Scourges and goads no less the cavalier; Lest, if he now from Agramant divide, He should be taxed with baseness or with fear. If many deem it well he should abide, To many and many it would ill appear: Many would say, that oaths unbinding are, Which 'tis unlawful and unjust to swear.

LXVIII He all that day and the ensuing night Remains alone, and so the following day; Forever sifting in his doubtful sprite, If it be better to depart or stay: Lastly for Agramant decides the knight; To him in Africk will he wend his way: Moved by his love for his liege-lady sore, But moved by honour and by duty more.

LXIX He made for Arles, where yet he hoped would ride The fleet which him to Africa might bear; Nor in the port nor offing ships espied, Nor Saracens save dead beheld he there. For Agramant had swept the roadstead wide, And burnt what vessels in the haven were. Rogero takes the road, when his hope fails, Along the sea-beat shore toward Marseilles.

LXX Upon some boat he hoped to lay his hand, Which him for love or force should thence convey. Already Ogier's son had made the land, With the barbarians' fleet, his captive prey. You could not there have cast a grain of sand Between those vessels; moored closely lay The mighty squadrons to that harbour brought, With conquerors these, and those with prisoners fraught.

LXXI The vessels of the Moor that were not made The food of fire and water on that night (Saving some few that fled) were all conveyed Safe to Marseilles by the victorious knight Seven of those kings, that Moorish sceptres swayed, Who, having seen their squadron put to flight, With their seven ships had yielded to the foe, Stood mute and weeping, overwhelmed with woe.

LXXII Dudon had issued forth upon dry land, Bent to find Charlemagne that very day; And of the Moorish spoil and captive band Made in triumphal pomp a long display. The prisoners all were ranged upon the strand, And round them stood their Nubian victors gay; Who, shouting in his praise, with loud acclaim, Made all that region ring with Dudon's name.

LXXIII Rogero, when from far the ships he spied, Believed they were the fleet of Agramant, And, to know further, pricked his courser's side; Then, nearer, mid those knights of mickle vaunt, Nasamon's king a prisoner he desired, Agricalt, Bambirago, Farurant, Balastro, Manilardo, and Rimedont; Who stood with weeping eyes and drooping front.

LXXIV In their unhappy state to leave that crew The Child, who loved those monarchs, cannot bear; That useless is the empty hand he knew; That where force is not, little profits prayer. He couched his lance, their keeper overthrew, Then proved his wonted might with faulchion bare; And in a moment stretched upon the strand Above a hundred of the Nubian band.

LXXV The noise Sir Dudon hears, the slaughter spies, But knows not who the stranger cavalier: He marks how, put to rout, his people flies; With anguish, with lament and mighty fear; Quickly for courser, shield, and helmet cries, (Bosom, and arms, and thighs, were mailed whilere) Leaps on his horse, nor — having seized his lance — Forgets he is a paladin of France.

LXXVI He called on every one to stand aside, And with the galling spur his courser prest; Meanwhile a hundred other foes have died, And filled with hope was every prisoner's breast; And as Rogero holy Dudon spied Approach on horseback, (footmen were the rest,) Esteeming him their head, he charged the knight, Impelled by huge desire to prove his might.

LXXVII Already, on his part, had moved the Dane; But when he saw the Child without a spear, He flang is own far from him, in disdain To take such vantage of the cavalier. Admiring at Sir Dudon's courteous vein, "Belie himself he cannot," said the peer, "And of those perfect warriors must be one That as the paladins of France are known.

LXXVIII "If I my will can compass, he shall shew His name, to me, ere further deed be done." He made demand; and in the stranger knew Dudon, the Danish Ogier's valiant son: He from Rogero claimed an equal due, And from the Child as courteous answer won. — Their names on either side announced — the foes A bold defiance speak, and come to blows.

LXXIX Bold Dudon had with him that iron mace, Which won him deathless fame in many a fight: Wherewith he proved him fully of the race Of that good Danish warrior, famed for might. That best of faulchions, which through iron case Of cuirass or of casque was wont to bite, Youthful Rogero from the scabbard snatched, And with the martial Dane his valour matched.

LXXX But for the gentle youth was ever willed To offend his lady-love the least he could, And knew he should offend her, if he spilled, In that disastrous battle, Dudon's blood (Well in the lineage of French houses skilled He wist of Beatrice's sisterhood, — Bradamant's mother she — with Armelline, The mother of the Danish paladine).

LXXXI He therefore never thrust in that affray, And rarely smote an edge on plate and chain. Now warding off the mace, now giving way, Before the fall of that descending bane. Turpin believes it in Rogero lay Sir Dudon in few sword-strokes to have slain. Yet never when the Dane his guard foregoes, Save on the faulchion's flat descend the blows.

LXXXII The flat as featly as the edge he plies, Of that good faulchion forged of stubborn grain; And, at strange blindman's bluff, in weary wise, Hammers on Dudon with such might and main, He often dazzles so the warrior's eyes, That hardly he his saddle can maintain. But to win better audience for my rhyme, My canto I defer to other time.

CANTO 41

ARGUMENT His prisoners to the Child the Danish peer Consigns, who, homeward bound, are wrecked at sea; By swimming he escapes, and a sincere And faithful servant now of Christ is he. Meanwhile bold Brandimart, and Olivier, And Roland fiercely charge the hostile three. Sobrino is left wounded in the strife; Gradasso and Agramant deprived of life.

I The odour which well-fashioned bear or hair, Of that which find and dainty raiment steeps Of gentle stripling, or of damsel fair, — Who often love awakens, as she weeps — If it ooze forth and scent the ambient air, And which for many a day its virtue keeps, Well shows, by manifest effects and sure, How perfect was its first perfume and pure.

II The drink that to his cost good Icarus drew Of yore his sun-burned sicklemen to cheer, And which ('tis said) lured Celts and Boi through Our Alpine hills, untouched by toil whilere, Well shows that cordial was the draught, when new; Since it preserves its virtue through the year. The tree to which its wintry foliage cleaves, Well shows that verdant were its spring tide leaves.

III The famous lineage, for so many years Of courtesy the great and lasting light, Which ever, brightening as it burns, appears To shine and flame more clearly to the sight, Well proves the sire of Este's noble peers Must, amid mortals, have shone forth as bright In all fair gifts which raise men to the sky, As the glad sun mid glittering orbs on high.

IV As in his every other feat exprest, Rogero's valiant mind and courteous lore Were showed by tokens clear and manifest, And his high mindedness shone more and more; — So toward the Dane those virtues stood confest, With whom (as I rehearsed to you before) He had belied his mighty strength and breath; For pity loth to put that lord to death.

V The Danish warrior was well certified, No wish to slay him had the youthful knight, Who spared him now, when open was his side; Now, when so wearied he no more could smite. When finally he knew, and plain descried Rogero scrupled to put forth his might, If with less vigour and less prowess steeled, At least in courtesy he would not yield.

VI "Pardi, sir, make we peace;" (he said) "success In this contention cannot fall to me — Cannot be mine; for I myself confess Conquered and captive to thy courtesy." To him Rogero answered, "And no less I covet peace, than 'tis desired by thee. But this upon condition, that those seven Are freed from bondage, and to me are given."

VII With that he showed those seven whereof I spake, Bound and with drooping heads, a sad array; Adding, he must to him no hindrance make, Who would those kings to Africa convey. And Dudon thus allowed the Child to take Those seven, and him allowed to bear away A bark as well; what likes him best he chooses, Amid those vessels, and for Africk looses.

VIII He looses bark and sail; and in bold wise Trusting the fickle wind, to seaward stood. At first on her due course the vessel flies, And fills the pilot full of hardihood. The beach retreats, and from the sailors' eyes So fades, the sea appears a shoreless flood. Upon the darkening of the day, the wind Displays its fickle and perfidious kind.

IX It shifts from poop to beam, from beam to prow, And even there short season doth remain: The reeling ship confounds the pilot; now Struck fore, now aft, now on her beam again. Threatening the billows rise, with haughty brow, And Neptune's white herd lows above the main. As many deaths appear to daunt that rout, As waves which beat their troubled bark about.

X Now blows the wind in front, and now in rear, And drives this wave an-end, that other back; Others the reeling vessel's side o'erpeer; And every billow threatens equal wrack. The pilot sighs, confused and pale with fear; Vainly he calls aloud to shift the tack, To strike or jibe the yard; and with his hand, Signs to the crew the thing he would command.

XI But sound or signal little boots; the eye Sees not amid the dim and rainy night; The voice unheard ascends into the sky, — The sky, which with a louder larum smite The troubled sailors' universal cry, And roar of waters, which together fight. Unheard is every hest, above, below, Starboard or larboard, upon poop or prow.

XII In the strained tackle sounds a hollow roar, Wherein the struggling wind its fury breaks; The forked lightning flashes evermore, With fearful thunder heaven's wide concave shakes. One to the rudder runs, one grasps an oar; Each to his several office him betakes. One will make fast, another will let go; Water into the water others throw.

XIII Lo! howling horribly, the sounding blast, Which Boreas in his sudden fury blows, Scourges with tattered sail the reeling mast: Almost as high as heaven the water flows: The oars are broken; and so fell and fast That tempest pelts, the prow to leeward goes; And the ungoverned vessel's battered side Is undefended from the foaming tide.

XIV Fallen on her starboard side, on her beam ends, About to turn keel uppermost, she lies. Meanwhile, his soul to Heaven each recommends, Surer than sure to sink, with piteous cries. Scathe upon scathe malicious Fortune sends, And when one woe is weathered, others rise. O'erstrained, the vessel splits; and through her seams In many a part the hostile water streams.

XV A fierce assault and cruel coil doth keep Upon all sides that wintry tempest fell. Now to their sight so high the billows leap, It seems that these to heaven above would swell; Now, plunging with the wave, they sink so deep, That they appear to spy the gulfs of hell. Small hope there is or none: with faultering breath They gaze upon inevitable death.

XVI On a despiteous sea, that livelong night, They drifted, as the wind in fury blew. The furious wind that with the dawning light Should have abated, gathered force anew. Lo! a bare rock, ahead, appears in sight, Which vainly would the wretched band eschew; Whom towards that cliff, in their despite, impel The raging tempest and the roaring swell.

XVII Three times and four the pale-faced pilot wrought The tiller with a vigorous push to sway; And for the bark a surer passage sought: But the waves snapt and bore the helm away. To lower, or ease the bellying canvas aught The sailors had no power; nor time had they To mend that ill, or counsel what was best; For them too hard the mortal peril prest.

XVIII Perceiving now that nothing can defend Their bark from wreck on that rude rock and bare, All to their private aims alone attend, And only to preserve their life have care. Who quickest can, into the skiff descend; But in a thought so overcrowded are, Through those so many who invade the boat, That, gunwale-deep, she scarce remains afloat.

XIX Rogero, on beholding master, mate, And men abandoning the ship with speed, In doublet, as he is, sans mail and plate, Hopes in the skiff, a refuge in that need: But finds her overcharged with such a weight, And afterwards so many more succeed, That the o'erwhelming wave the pinnace drown, And she with all her wretched freight goes down;

XX Goes down, and, foundering, drags with her whoe'er Leaving the larger bark, on her relies. Then doleful shrieks are heard, 'mid sob and tear, Calling for succour on unpitying skies: But for short space that shrilling cry they rear; For, swoln with rage and scorn, the waters rise, And in a moment wholly stop the vent Whence issues that sad clamour and lament.

XXI One sinks outright, no more to reappear; Some rise, and bounding with the billows go: Their course, with head uplifted, others steer; An arm, an unshod leg, those others show: Rogero, who the tempest will not fear, Springs upward to the surface from below; And little distant sees that rock, in vain Eschewed by him and his attendant train.

XXII Himself with hands and feet the warrior rows, Hoping by force thereof to win the shore; Breast boldly the importunate flood, and blows With his unwearied breath the foam before. Waxing meanwhile, the troubled water rose, And from the rock the abandoned vessel bore; Quitted of those unhappy men, who die (So curst their lot) the death from which they fly.

XXIII Alas! for man's deceitful thoughts and blind! The ship escaped from wreck, where hope was none; When master and when men their charge resigned, And let the vessel without guidance run. It would appear the wind has changed its mind, On seeing all that sailed in her are gone; And blows the vessel from those shallows free, Through better course, into a safer sea.

XXIV She, having drifted wildly with her guide, Without him, made directly Africk's strand, Two or three miles of waste Biserta wide, Upon the quarter facing Egypt's land; And, as the sea went down and the wind died, Stood bedded in that weary waste of sand. Now thither Roland roved, who paced the shore; As I in other strain rehearsed before;

XXV And willing to discover if alone, Laden, or light, the stranded vessel were, He, Olivier, and Monodantes' son, Aboard her in a shallow bark repair: Beneath the hatchways they descend, but none Of human kind they see; and only there Find good Frontino, with the trenchant sword And gallant armour of his youthful lord;

XXVI Who was so hurried in his hasty flight He had not even time to take his sword; To Orlando known; which, Balisardo hight, Was his erewhile; the tale's upon record, And ye have read it all, as well I wite; How Falerina lost it to that lord, When waste as well her beauteous bowers he laid; And how from him Brunello stole the blade;

XXVII And how beneath Carena, on the plain Brunello on Rogero this bestowed. How matchless was that faulchion's edge and grain, To him experience had already showed; I say, Orlando; who was therefore fain, And to heaven's king with grateful thanks o'erflowed; And deemed, and often afterwards so said, Heaven for such pressing need had sent the blade:

XXVIII Such pressing need, in that he had to fight With the redoubted king of Sericane; And knew that he, besides his fearful might, Was lord of Bayard and of Durindane. Not knowing them, Anglantes' valiant knight So highly rated not the plate and chain As he that these had proved: they valour were, But valued less as good than rich and fair;

XXIX And, for of harness he had little need, Charmed, and against all weapons fortified, To Olivier he left the warlike weed: Not so the sword; which to his waist he tied: To Brandimart Orlando gave the steed: Thus equally that spoil would he divide With his companions twain, in equal share, Who partners in that rich discovery were.

XXX Against the day of fight, in goodly gear And new, those warriors seek their limbs to deck. Blazoned upon Orlando's shield appear The burning bold and lofty Babel's wreck. A lyme-dog argent bears Sir Olivier, Couchant, and with the leash upon his neck: The motto; TILL HE COMES: In gilded vest And worthy of himself he will be drest.

XXXI Bold Brandimart designed upon the day Of battle, for his royal father's sake, And his own honour, no device more gay Than a dim surcoat to the field to take. By gentle Flordelice for that dark array, Was wrought the fairest facing she could make. With costly jewels was the border sown; Sable the vest, and of one piece alone.