XXXIII "Ah! wellaway! if in my thought Love so Thy thought, as thy fair visage, had designed, This — am I well assured — in open show, As I unseen believe it, should I find; And be so quit of Jealousy, that foe Would not still harass my suspicious mind; And, where she is by me repulsed with pain, Not quelled and routed would she be, but slain.

XXXIV "I am like miser, so intent on gear, And who hath this so buried in his heart, That he, for hoarded treasure still in fear, Cannot live gladly from his wealth apart. Since I Rogero neither see nor hear, More puissant far than Hope, O Fear! thou art; To thee, though false and idle I give way; And cannot choose but yield myself thy prey.

XXXV "But I, Rogero, shall no sooner spy The light of thy glad countenance appear, Against mine every credence, from mine eye Concealed (and woe is me), I know not where, — Oh! how true Hope false Fear shall from on high Depose withal, and to the bottom bear! Ah! turn to me, Rogero! turn again, And comfort Hope, whom Fear hath almost slain.

XXXVI "As when the sun withdraws his glittering head, The shadows lengthen, causing vain affright; And as the shadows, when he leaves his bed, Vanish, and reassure the timid wight: Without Rogero so I suffer dread; Dread lasts not, if Rogero is in sight. Return to me, return, Rogero, lest My hope by fear should wholly be opprest.

XXXVII "As every spark is in the night alive, And suddenly extinguished when 'tis morn; When me my sun doth of his rays deprive, Against me felon Fear uplifts his horn: But they the shades of night no sooner drive, Than Fears are past and gone, and Hopes return. Return, alas! return, O radiance dear! And drive from me that foul, consuming Fear.

XXXVIII "If the sun turn from us and shorten day, Earth all its beauties from the sight doth hide; The wild winds howl, and snows and ice convey; Bird sings not; nor is leaf or flower espied. So, whensoever thou thy gladsome ray, O my fair sun, from me dost turn aside, A thousand, and all evil, dreads, make drear Winter within me many times a year.

XXXIX "Return, my sun, return! and springtide sweet, Which evermore I long to see, bring back; Dislodge the snows and ice with genial hear; And clear my mind, so clouded o'er and black." As Philomel, or Progne, with the meat Returning, which her famished younglings lack, Mourns o'er an empty nest, or as the dove Laments himself at having lost is love;

XL The unhappy Bradamant laments her so, Fearing the Child is reft from her and gone; While often tears her visage overflow: But she, as best she can, conceals her moan. Oh! how — oh! how much worse would be her woe, If what she knew not to the maid were known! That, prisoned and with pain and pine consumed, Her consort to a cruel death was doomed.

XLI The cruelty which by that beldam ill Was practised on the prisoned cavalier, And who prepared the wretched Child to kill, By torture new and pains unused whilere, While so Rogero pined, the gracious will Of Heaven conveyed to gentle Leo's ear; And put into his heart the means to aid, And not to let such worth be overlaid.

XLII The courteous Leo that Rogero loved, Not that the Grecian knew howe'er that he Rogero was, but by that valour moved Which sole and superhuman seemed to be, Thought much, and mused, and planned, how it behoved — And found at last a way — to set him free; So that his cruel aunt should have no right To grieve or say he did her a despite.

XLIII In secret, Leo with the man that bore The prison-keys a parley had, and said, He wished to see that cavalier, before Upon the wretch was done a doom so dread. When it was night, one, faithful found of yore, Bold, strong, and good in brawl, he thither led; And — by the silent warder taught that none Must know 'twas Leo — was the door undone.

XLIV Leo, escorted by none else beside, Was led by the compliant castellain, With his companion, to the tower, where stied Was he, reserved for nature's latest pain. There round the neck of their unwary guide, Who turns his back the wicket to unchain, A slip-knot Leo and his follower cast; And, throttled by the noose, he breathes his last.

XLV — The trap upraised, by rope from thence suspended For such a need — the Grecian cavalier, With lighted flambeau in his hand, descended, Where, straitly bound, and without sun to cheer, Rogero lay, upon a grate extended, Less than a palm's breadth of the water clear: To kill him in a month, or briefer space, Nothing was needed but that deadly place.

XLVI Lovingly Leo clipt the Child, and, "Me, O cavalier! thy matchless valour," cried, "Hath in indissoluble bands to thee, In willing and eternal service, tried; And wills thy good to mine preferred should be, And I for thine my safety set aside, And weigh thy friendship more than sire, and all Whom I throughout the world my kindred call.

XLVII "I Leo am, that thou what fits mayst know, Come to thy succour, the Greek emperor's son: If ever Constantine, my father, trow That I have aided thee, I danger run To be exiled, or aye with troubled brow Regarded for the deed that I have done; For thee he hates because of those thy blade Put to the rout and slaughtered near Belgrade."

XLVIII He his discourse with more beside pursues, That might from death to life the Child recall; And all this while Rogero's hands doth loose. "Infinite thanks I owe you," cries the thrall, "And I the life you gave me, for your use Will ever render back, upon your call; And still, at all your need, I for your sake, And at all times, that life will promptly stake."

XLIX Rogero is rescued; and the gaoler slain Is left in that dark dungeon in his place; Nor is Rogero known, nor are the twain: Leo the warrior, free from bondage base, Brings home, and there in safety to remain Persuades, in secret, four or six days' space: Meanwhile for him will he retrieve the gear And courser, by Ungiardo reft whilere.

L Open the gaol is found at dawn of light, The gaoler strangled, and Rogero gone. Some think that these or those had helped his flight: All talk; and yet the truth is guessed by none. Well may they think by any other wight Rather than Leo had the deed been done; For many deemed he had cause to have repaid The Child with scathe, and none to give him aid.

LI So wildered by such kindness, so immersed In wonder, is the rescued cavalier, So from those thoughts is he estranged, that erst So many weary miles had made him steer, His second thoughts confronting with his first, Nor these like those, nor those like these appear. He first with hatred, rage, and venom burned; With pity and with love then wholly yearned.

LII Much muses he by night and much by day; — Nor cares for ought, nor ought desires beside — By equal or more courtesy to pay The mighty debt that him to Leo tied. Be his life long or short, or what it may, Albeit to Leo's service all applied, Dies he a thousand deaths, he can do nought, But more will be deserved, Rogero thought.

LIII Thither meanwhile had tidings been conveyed Of Charles' decree: that who in nuptial tye Would yoke with Bradamant, with trenchant blade Or lance must with the maid his prowess try. These news the Grecian prince so ill appaid, His cheek was seen to blanch with sickly dye; Because, as one that measured well his might, He knew he was no match for her in fight.

LIV Communing with himself, he can supply (He sees) the valour wanting with his wit; And the strange knight with his own ensignry, Whose name is yet unknown to him, will fit: Him he against Frank champion, far and nigh, Believes he may for force and daring pit; And if the knight to that emprize agree, Vanquished and taken Bradamant will be.

LV But two things must he do; must, first, dispose That cavalier to undertake the emprize; Then send afield the champion, whom he chose, In mode, that none suspect the youth's disguise: To him the matter Leo doth disclose; And after prays in efficacious wise, That he the combat with the maid will claim, Under false colours and in other's name.

LVI Much weighs the Grecian's eloquence; but more Than eloquence with good Rogero weighed The mighty obligation which he bore; That debt which cannot ever be repaid. So, albeit it appeared a hardship sore And thing well-nigh impossible, he said, With blither face than heart, that Leo's will In all that he commands he would fulfil.

LVII Albeit no sooner he the intent exprest, Than with sore grief Rogero's heart was shent; Which, night and day, and ever, doth molest, Ever afflict him, evermore torment: And though he sees his death is manifest, Never will he confess he doth repent: Rather than not with Leo's prayer comply, A thousand deaths, not one, the Child will die.

LVIII Right sure he is to die; if he forego The lady, he foregoes his life no less. His heart will break through his distress and woe, Or, breaking not with woe and with distress, He will, himself, the bands of life undo, And of its clay the spirit dispossess. For all things can he better bear than one; Than see that gentle damsel not his own.

LIX To die is he disposed; but how to die Cannot as yet the sorrowing lord decide: Sometimes he thinks his prowess to belie, And offer to her sword his naked side: For never death can come more happily Than if her hand the fatal faulchion guide: Then sees, except he wins the martial maid For that Greek prince, the debt remains unpaid.

LX For he with Bradamant, as with a foe, Promised to do, not feign, a fight in mail, And not to make of arms a seeming show; So that his sword should Leo ill avail. Then by his word will he abide; and though His breast now these now other thoughts assail, All from his bosom chased the generous youth, Save that which moved him to maintain his truth.

LXI With the emperor's licence, armour to prepare, And steeds meanwhile had wrought his youthful son; Who with such goodly following as might square With his degree, upon his way was gone: With him Rogero rides, through Leo's care, Equipt with horse and arms, that were his own. Day after day the squadron pricks; nor tarries Until arrived in France; arrived at Paris.

LXII Leo will enter not the town; but nigh Pitches his broad pavilions on the plain; And his arrival by an embassy Makes known that day to royal Charlemagne. Well pleased is he; and visits testify And many gifts the monarch's courteous vein. His journey's cause the Grecian prince displayed, And to dispatch his suit the sovereign prayed:

LXIII To send afield the damsel, who denied Ever to take in wedlock any lord Weaker than her: for she should be his bride, Or he would perish by the lady's sword. Charles undertook for this; and, on her side, The following day upon the listed sward Before the walls, in haste, enclosed that night, Appeared the martial maid, equipt for fight.

LXIV Rogero past the night before the day Wherein by him the battle should be done, Like that which felon spends, condemning to pay Life's forfeit with the next succeeding sun: He made his choice to combat in the fray All armed; because he would discovery shun: Nor barded steed he backed, nor lance he shook; Nor other weapon than his faulchion took.

LXV No lance he took: yet was it not through fear Of that which Argalia whilom swayed; Astolpho's next; then hers, that in career Her foemen ever upon earth had laid: Because none weened such force was in the spear, Nor that it was by necromancy made; Excepting royal Galaphron alone; Who had it forged, and gave it to his son.

LXVI Nay, bold Astolpho, and the lady who Afterwards bore it, deemed that not to spell, But simply to their proper force, was due The praise that they in knightly joust excel; And with whatever spear they fought, those two Believed that they should have performed as well. What only makes that knight the joust forego Is that he would not his Frontino show.

LXVII For easily that steed of generous kind She might have known, if him she had espied; Whom in Montalban, long to her consigned, The gentle damsel had been wont to ride. Rogero, that but schemes, but hath in mind How he from Brandamant himself shall hide, Neither Frontino nor yet other thing. Whereby he may be known, afield will bring.

LXVIII With a new sword will he the maid await; For well he knew against the enchanted blade As soft as paste would prove all mail and plate; For never any steel its fury stayed; And heavily with hammer, to rebate Its edge, as well he on this faulchion layed. So armed, Rogero in the lists appeared, When the first dawn of day the horizon cheered.

LXIX To look like Leo, o'er his breast is spread The surcoat that the prince is wont to wear; And the gold eagle with its double head He blazoned on the crimson shield doth bear; And (what the Child's disguisement well may stead) Of equal size and stature are the pair. In the other's form presents himself the one; That other lets himself be seen of none.

LXX Dordona's martial maid is of a vein Right different from the gentle youth's, who sore Hammers and blunts the faulchion's tempered grain, Lest it his opposite should cleave or bore. She whets her steel, and into it would fain Enter, that stripling to the quick to gore: Yea, would such fury to her strokes impart, That each should go directly to his heart.

LXXI As on the start the generous barb in spied, When he the signal full of fire attends; And paws now here now there; and opens wide His nostrils, and his pointed ears extends; So the bold damsel, to the lists defied, Who knows not with Rogero she contends, Seemed to have fire within her veins, nor found Resting-place, waiting for the trumpet's sound.

LXXII As sometimes after thunder sudden wind Turns the sea upside down; and far and nigh Dim clouds of dust the cheerful daylight blind, Raised in a thought from earth, and whirled heaven-high; Scud beasts and herd together with the hind; And into hail and rain dissolves the sky; So she upon the signal bared her brand, And fell on her Rogero, sword in hand.

LXXIII But well-built wall, strong tower, or aged oak, No more are moved by blasts that round them rave, No more by furious sea is moved the rock, Smote day and night by the tempestuous wave, Than in those arms, secure from hostile stroke, Which erst to Trojan Hector Vulcan gave, Moved was he by that ire and hatred rank Which stormed about his head, and breast, and flank.

LXXIV Now aims that martial maid a trenchant blow, And now gives point; and wholly is intent 'Twixt plate and plate to reach her hated foe; So that her stifled fury she may vent: Now on this side, now that, now high, now low She strikes, and circles him, on mischief bent; And evermore she rages and repines; As balked of every purpose she designs.

LXXV As he that layeth siege to well-walled town, And flanked about with solid bulwarks, still Renews the assault; now fain would batter down Gateway or tower; now gaping fosse would fill; Yet vainly toils (for entrance is there none) And wastes his host, aye frustrate of his will; So sorely toils and strives without avail The damsel, nor can open plate or mail.

LXXVI Sparks now his shield, now helm, now cuirass scatter, While straight and back strokes, aimed now low, now high, Which good Rogero's head and bosom batter, And arms, by thousands and by thousands fly Faster than on the sounding farm-roof patter Hailstones descending from a troubled sky. Rogero, at his ward, with dexterous care, Defends himself, and ne'er offends the fair.

LXXVII Now stopt, now circled, now retired the knight, And oft his hand his foot accompanied; And lifted shield, and shifted sword in fight, Where shifting he the hostile hand espied. Either he smote her not, or — die he smite — Smote, where he deemed least evil would betide. The lady, ere the westering sun descend, Desires to bring that duel to an end.

LXXVIII Of the edict she remembered her, and knew Her peril, save the foe was quickly sped: For if she took not in one day nor slew Her claimant, she was taken; and his head Phoebus was now about to hide from view, Nigh Hercules' pillars, in his watery bed, When first she 'gan misdoubt her power to cope With the strong foe, and to abandon hope.

LXXIX By how much more hope fails the damsel, so Much more her anger waxes; she her blows Redoubling, yet the harness of her foe Will break, which through that day unbroken shows; As he, that at his daily drudgery slow, Sees night on his unfinished labour close, Hurries and toils and moils without avail, Till wearied strength and light together fail.

LXXX Didst thou, O miserable damsel, trow Whom thou wouldst kill, if in that cavalier Matched against thee thou didst Rogero know, On whom depend thy very life-threads, ere Thou killed him thou wouldst kill thyself; for thou, I know, dost hold him than thyself more dear; And when he for Rogero shall be known, I know these very strokes thou wilt bemoan.

LXXXI King Charles and peers him sheathed in plate and shell Deem not Rogero, but the emperor's son; And viewing in that combat fierce and fell Such force and quickness by the stripling shown; And, without e'er offending her, how well That knight defends himself, now change their tone; Esteem both well assorted; and declare The champions worthy of each other are.

LXXXII When Phoebus wholly under water goes, Charlemagne bids the warring pair divide; And Bradamant (nor boots it to oppose) Allots to youthful Leo as a bride. Not there Rogero tarried to repose; Nor loosed his armour, nor his helm untied: On a small hackney, hurrying sore, he went Where Leo him awaited in his tent.

LXXXIII Twice in fraternal guise and oftener threw Leo his arms about the cavalier; And next his helmet from his head withdrew, And kiss'd him on both cheeks with loving cheer. "I would," he cried, "that thou wouldst ever do By me what pleaseth thee; for thou wilt ne'er Weary my love: at any call I lend To thee myself and state; these friendly spend;

LXXXIV "Nor see I recompense, which can repay The mighty obligation that I owe; Though of the garland I should disarray My brows, and upon thee that gift bestow." Rogero, on whom his sorrows press and prey, Who loathes his life, immersed in that deep woe, Little replies; the ensigns he had worn Returns, and takes again his unicorn;

LXXXV And showing himself spiritless and spent, From thence as quickly as he could withdrew, And from young Leo's to his lodgings went; When it was midnight, armed himself anew, Saddled his horse, and sallied from his tent; (He takes no leave, and none his going view;) And his Frontino to that road addrest, Which seemed to please the goodly courser best.

LXXXVI Now by straight way and now by crooked wound Frontino, now by wood and wide champaign; And all night with his rider paced that round, Who never ceased a moment to complain: He called on Death, and therein comfort found; Since broke by him alone is stubborn pain; Nor saw, save Death, what other power could close The account of his insufferable woes.

LXXXVII "Whereof should I complain," he said, "wo is me! So of my every good at once forlorn? Ah! if I will not bear this injury Without revenge, against whom shall I turn? For I, besides myself, none other see That hath inflicted on me scathe and scorn. Then I to take revenge for all the harm Done to myself, against myself must arm.

LXXXVIII "Yet was but to myself this injury done, Myself to spare (because this touched but me) I haply could, yet hardly could, be won; Nay, I will say outright, I could not be. Less can I be, since not to me alone, But Bradamant, is done this injury; Even if I could consent myself to spare, It fits me not unvenged to leave that fair.

LXXXIX "Then I the damsel will avenge, and die, (Nor this disturbs me) whatsoe'er betide; For, bating death, I know not aught, whereby Defence against my grief can be supplied. But I lament myself alone, that I Before offending her, should not have died. O happier Fortune! had I breathed my last In Theodora's dungeon prisoned fast!

XC "Though she had slain, had tortured me before She slew, as prompted by her cruelty, At least the hope would have remained in store That I by Bradamant should pitied be: But when she knows that I loved Leo more Than her, that, of my own accord and free, Myself of her, I for his good, deprive, Dead will she rightly hate me or alive."

XCI These words he said and many more, with sigh And heavy sob withal accompanied, And, when another sun illumed the sky, Mid strange and gloomy woods himself espied; And, for he desperate was and bent to die, And he, as best he could, his death would hide; This place to him seemed far removed from view, And fitted for the deed that he would do.

XCII He entered into that dark woodland, where He thickest trees and most entangled spied: But first Frontino was the warrior's care, Whom he unharnessed wholly, and untied. "O my Frontino, if thy merits rare I could reward, thou little cause" (he cried) "Shouldst have to envy him, so highly graced, Who soared to heaven, and mid the stars was placed.

XCIII "Nor Cillarus, nor Arion, was whilere Worthier than thee, nor merited more praise; Nor any other steed, whose name we hear Sounded in Grecian or in Latin lays. Was any such in other points thy peer, None of them, well I know, the vaunt can raise; That such high honour and such courtesy Were upon him bestowed, as were on thee.

XCIV "Since to the gentlest maid, of fairest dye, And boldest that hath been, or evermore Will be, thou wast so dear, she used to tie Thy trappings, and to thee thy forage bore: Dear wast thou to my lady-love: Ah! why Call I her mine, since she is mine no more? If I have given her to another lord, Why turn I not upon myself this sword?"

XCV If him these thoughts so harass and torment, That bird and beast are softened by his cries; (For, saving these, none hears the sad lament, Nor sees the flood that trickles form his eyes) You are not to believe that more content The Lady Bradamant in Paris lies; Who can no longer her delay excuse, Nor Leo for her wedded lord refuse.

XCVI Ere she herself to any consort tie, Beside her own Rogero, she will fain Do what so can be done; her word belie; Anger friends, kindred, court, and Charlemagne; And if she nothing else can do, will die, By poison or her own good faulchion slain: For not to live appears far lesser woe, Than, living, her Rogero to forego.

XCVII "Rogero mine, ah! wonder gone" (she cried) "Art thou; and canst thou so far distant be, Thou heardest not this royal edict cried, A thing concealed from none, expecting thee? Faster than thee would none have hither hied, I wot, hadst thou known this; ah! wretched me! How can I e'er in future think of aught, Saving the worst that can by me be thought?

XCVIII "How can it be, Rogero, thou alone Hast read not what by all the world is read? If thou hast read it not, nor hither flown, How canst thou but a prisoner be, or dead? But well I wot, that if the truth were known, This Leo will for thee some snare have spread: The traitor will have barred thy way, intent Thou shouldst not him by better speed prevent.

XCIX "From Charles I gained the promise, that to none Less puissant than myself should I be given; In the reliance thou wouldst be that one, With whom I should in arms have vainly striven. None I esteemed, excepting thee alone: But well my rashness is rebuked by Heaven: Since I by one am taken in this wise Unfamed through life for any fair emprize.

C "If I am held as taken, since the knight I had not force to take nor yet to slay; A thing that is not, in my judgment, right; Nor I to Charles's sentence will give way, I know that I shall be esteemed as light, If what I lately said, I now unsay; But of those many ladies that have past For light, I am not, I, the first or last.

CI "Enough I to my lover faith maintain, And, firmer than a rock, am still found true! And far herein surpass the female train, That were in olden days, or are in new! Nor, if they me as fickle shall arraign, Care I, so good from fickleness ensue; Though I am lighter than a leaf be said, So I be forced not with that Greek no wed."

CII These things and more beside the damsel bright ('Twixt which oft sobs and tears were interposed), Ceased not to utter through the livelong night Which upon that unhappy day had closed. But, when within Cimmeria's caverned height Nocturnus with his troops of shades reposed, Heaven, which eternally had willed the maid Should be Rogero's consort, brought him aid:

CIII This moves the haught Marphisa, when 'tis morn, To appear before the king; to whom that maid Saith, to the Child, her brother, mighty scorn Was done; nor should he be so ill appaid, That from him should his plighted wife be torn; And nought thereof unto the warrior said; And on whoever lists she will in strife Prove Bradamant to be Rogero's wife;

CIV And this, before all others, will prove true On her, if to deny it she will dare; For she had to Rogero, in her view, Spoken those words, which they that marry swear; And with all ceremony wont and due So was the contract sealed between the pair, They were no longer free; nor could forsake The one the other, other spouse to take.

CV Whether Marphisa true or falsely spake, I well believe that, rather with intent Young Leo's purpose, right or wrong, to break, Than tell the truth, she speaks; and with consent Of Bradamant doth that avowal make: For to exclude the hated Leo bent, And of Rogero to be repossest, This she believes her shortest way and best.

CVI Sorely by this disturbed, King Charlemagne Bade Bradamant be called, and to her told That which the proud Marphisa would maintain; And Aymon present in the press behold! — Bradamant drops her head, nor treats as vain, Nor vouches what avows that virgin bold, In such confusion, they may well believe That fierce Marphisa speaks not to deceive.

CVII Joy good Orlando and joy Rinaldo show, Who view in valorous Marphisa's plea A cause the alliance shall no further go, Which sealed already Leo deemed to be; And yet, in spite of stubborn Aymon's no, Bradamant shall Rogero's consort be; And they may, without strife, without despite Done to Duke Aymon's, give her to the knight.

CVIII For if such words have pass'd between the twain, Fast is the knot and cannot be untied; They what they vowed more fairly will obtain, And without further strife are these affied. "This is a plot, a plot devised in vain; And ye deceive yourselves (Duke Aymon cried) For, were the story true which ye have feigned, Believe not therefore that your cause is gained.

CIX "For granting what I will not yet allow, And what I to believe as yet demur; That weakly to Rogero so her vow Was plighted, as Rogero's was to her; Where was the contract made, and when and how? More clearly this to me must ye aver. Either it was not so, I am advised; Or was before Rogero was baptized.

CX "But if it were before the youthful knight A Christian was, I will not heed it, I; For 'twixt a faithful and a paynim wight, I deem that nought avails the marriage-tie. For this not vainly in the doubtful fight Should Constantine's fair son have risked to die; Nor Charlemagne for this, our sovereign lord Will forfeit, I believe, his plighted word.

CXI "What now you say you should before have said, While yet the matter was unbroke, and ere Charles at my daughter's prayer that edict made Which has drawn Leo to the combat here." Orlando and Rinaldo were gainsayed So before royal Charles by Clermont's peer; And equal Charlemagne heard either side, But neither would for this nor that decide.

CXII As in the southern or the northern breeze The greenwood murmurs; and as on the shore, When Aeolus with the god that rules the seas Is wroth, the hoarse and hollow breakers roar, So a loud rumour of this strife, that flees Through France, and spreads and circles evermore, Affords such matter to rehearse and hear, That nought beside is bruised far or near.

CXIII These with Rogero, those with Leo side; But the most numerous are Rogero's friends, Who against Aymon, ten to one, divide. Good Charlemagne to neither party bends; But wills that cause shall be by justice tried, And to his parliament the matter sends. Marphisa, now the bridal was deferred, Appeared anew, and other question stirred;

CXIV And said, "In that anther cannot have Bradamant, while my brother is alive, Let Leo, if the gentle maid he crave, His foe in listed fight of life deprive; And he, that sends the other to his grave, Freed from his rival, with the lady wive." Forthwith this challenge, as erewhile the rest, To Leo was declared at Charles' behest.

CXV Leo who if he had the cavalier Of the unicorn, believed he from his foe Was safe; and thought no peril would appear Too hard a feat for him; and knew not how Thence into solitary woods and drear That warrior had been hurried by his woe; Him gone for little time and for disport Believed, and took his line in evil sort.

CXVI This shortly Leo was condemned to rue: For he, on whom too fondly he relied, Nor on that day nor on the following two Appeared, nor news of him were signified; And combat with Rogero was, he knew, Unsafe, unless that knight was on his side: So sent, to eschew the threatened scathe and scorn, To seek the warrior of the unicorn.

CXVII Through city, and through hamlet, and through town, He sends to seek Rogero, far and near: And not content with this, himself is gone In person, on his steed, to find the peer. But of the missing warrior tidings none Nor he nor any of the Court would hear But for Melissa: I for other verse Reserve myself, her doings to rehearse.

CANTO 46

ARGUMENT After long search for good Rogero made, Him Leon finds, and yields to him his prize: Informed of all — already with that maid He wives; already in her bosom lies: When thither he that Sarza's sceptre swayed To infect such bliss with impious venom hies, But falls in combat; and, blaspheming loud, To Acheron descends his spirit proud.

I I, if my chart deceives me not, shall now In little time behold the neighbouring shore; So hope withal to pay my promised vow To one, so long my guide through that wide roar Of waters, where I feared, with troubled brow, To scathe my bark or wander evermore. But now, methinks — yea, now I see the land; I see the friendly port its arms expand.

II A burst of joy, like thunder to my ear, Rumbles along the sea and rends the sky. I chiming bells, I shrilling trumpets hear, Confounded with the people's cheerful cry; And now their forms, that swarm on either pier Of the thick-crowded harbour, I descry. All seem rejoiced my task is smoothly done, And I so long a course have safely run.

III What beauteous dames and sage, here welcome me! With them what cavaliers the shore adorn! What friends! to whom I owe eternity Of thanks for their delight at my return. Mamma, Ginevra, with the rest I see, Correggio's seed, on the harbour's furthest horn. Veronica de Gambara is here, To Phoebus and the Aonian choir so dear.

IV With Julia, a new Ginevra is in sight, Another offset from the selfsame tree; Hippolita Sforza, and Trivultia bright, Bred in the sacred cavern, I with thee Emilia Pia, and thee, Margherite, Angela Borgia, Graziosa, see, And fair Richarda d'Este, Lo! the twain, Blanche and Diana, with their sister train!

V Beauteous, but wiser and more chaste than fair, I Barbara Turca, linked with Laura, know: Nor beams the sun upon a better pair 'Twixt Ind and where the Moorish waters flow. Behold Ginevra! that rich gem and rare Which gilds the house of Malatesta so, That never worthier or more honoured thing Adorned the dome of Keysar or of king.

VI If she had dwelt in Rimini of yore, What time, from conquered Gaul returning home, Julius stood fearing on the river-shore, To ford the stream and make a foe of Rome, He every banner would have bowed before That dame, discharged his trophies, and such doom, Such pact would have received as liked her best; And haply ne'er had Freedom been opprest.

VII The consort of my lord of Bozzolo Behold! the mother, sisters, cousinhood; Them of Torello, Bentivoglio, Pallavigini's and Visconti's brood! Lo! she to whom all living dames forego The palm, and all of Grecian, Latin blood, Or barbarous, all that ever were, whose name For grace and beauty most is noised by Fame;

VIII Julia Gonzaga, she that wheresoe'er She moves, where'er she turns her lucid eyes, Not only is in charms without a peer, But seems a goddess lighted from the skies: With her is paired her brother's wife, who ne'er Swerved from her plighted faith — aye good and wise — Because ill Fortune bore her long despite; Lo! Arragonian Anna, Vasto's light!

IX Anne gentle, courteous, and as sage as fair, Temple of Love and Truth and Chastity: With her, her sister dims all beauty, where Her radiance shines. Lo! one that hath set free Her conquering lord from Orcus' dark repair, And him in spite of death and destiny (Beyond all modern instance) raised on high, To shine with endless glory in the sky.

X My ladies of Ferrara, those of gay Urbino's court are here; and I descry Mantua's dames, and all that fair array Which Lombardy and Tuscan town supply. The cavalier amid that band, whom they So honour, unless dazzled is mine eye By those fair faces, is the shining light Of his Arezzo, and Accolti hight.

XI Adorned with scarlet hat, and scarlet pall, His nephew Benedict, lo! there I see; With him Campeggio and Mantua's cardinal; Glory and light of the consistory; And (if I dote not) mark how one and all In face and gesture show such mighty glee At my return, no easy task 'twould seem So vast an obligation to redeem.

XII With them Lactantius is, Claude Ptolemy, Trissino, Pansa, and Capilupi mine, Latino Giovenal, it seems to me; Sasso, and Molza, and Florian hight Montine; With him, by whom through shorter pathway we Are led to the Ascraean font divine, Julio Camillo; and meseems that I Berna, and Sanga, and Flaminio spy.

XIII Lo! Alexander of Farnese, and O Learned company that follows in his train! Phaedro, Cappella, Maddalen', Portio, Surnamed the Bolognese, the Volterrane. Blosio, Pierio, Vida, famed for flow Of lofty eloquence of exhaustless vein; Mussuro, Lascari, and Navagero, And Andrew Maro, and the monk Severo.

XIV Lo! two more Alexanders! of the tree Of the Orologi one, and one Guarino: Mario d' Olvito, and of royalty That scourge, divine Pietro Aretino. I two Girolamos amid them see, Of Veritade and the Cittadino; See the Mainardo, the Leoniceno, Panizzato, Celio, and Teocreno.

XV Bernardo Capel, Peter Bembo here I see, through whom our pure, sweet idiom rose, And who, of vulgar usage winnowed clear, Its genuine form in his example shows. Behold an Obyson, that in his rear Admires the pains which he so well bestows. I Fracastoro, Bevezzano note, And Tryphon Gabriel, Tasso more remote.

XVI Upon me Nicholas Tiepoli And Nicholas Ammanio fix their eyes; With Anthony Fulgoso, who to spy My boat near land shows pleasure and surprise. There, from those dames apart, my Valery Stands with Barignan, haply to devise With him how, evermore by woman harmed, By her he shall not evermore be charmed.

XVII Of high and superhuman genius, tied By love and blood, lo! Pico and Pio true; He that approaches at the kinsmen's side, — So honoured by the best — I never knew; But, if by certain tokens signified, He is the man I so desire to view, That Sannazaro, who persuades the nine To leave their fountain for the foaming brine.

XVIII Diligent, faithful secretary, lo! The learned Pistophilus, mine Angiar here, And the Acciajuoli their joint pleasure show That for my bark there is no further fear. There I my kinsman Malaguzzo know; And mighty hope from Adoardo hear, That these my nest-notes shall by friendly wind Be blown from Calpe's rock to furthest Ind.

XIX Joys Victor Fausto; Tancred joys to view My sail; and with them joy a hundred more. Women and men I see, a mingled crew, At my return rejoicing, crowd the shore. Then, since the wind blows fair, nor much to do Remains, let me my course delay no more; And turning to Melissa, in what way She rescued good Rogero let me say.

XX Much bent was this Melissa (as I know I many times have said to you whilere) That Bradamant in wedlock should bestow Her hand upon the youthful cavalier; And so at heart had either's weal and woe, That she from hour to hour of them would hear: Hence ever on that quest she spirits sent, One still returning as the other went.

XXI A prey to deep and stubborn grief, reclined Mid gloomy shades Rogero they descried; Firm not to swallow food of any kind, Nor from that purpose to be turned aside; And so to die of hunger he designed: But weird Melissa speedy aid supplied; Who took a road, from home forth issuing, where She met the Grecian emperor's youthful heir;

XXII Leo that, one by one, dispatched his train Of followers, far and wide, through every bourn, And afterwards, in person went in vain, To find the warrior of the unicorn. The wise enchantress, that will sell and rein, Had on that day equipt a demon, borne By him, in likeness of a hackney horse, Constantine's son encountered in her course.

XXIII "If such as your ingenuous mien" (she cried To Leo) "is your soul's nobility, And corresponding with your fair outside Your inward goodness and your courtesy, Some help, some comfort, sir, for one provide In whom the best of living knights we see; Who, save ye help and comfort quickly lend, Is little distant from his latter end.

XXIV "The best of knights will die of all, who don, Or e'er donned sword and buckler, the most fair And gentle of all warriors that are gone, Or who throughout the world yet living are, And simply for a courteous deed, if none Shall comfort to the youthful sufferer bear. Then come, sir, for the love of Heaven, and try If any counsel succour may supply."

XXV It suddenly came into Leo's mind The knight of whom she parlayed was that same, Whom throughout all the land he sought to find, And seeking whom, he now in person came. So that obeying her that would persuade Such pious work, he spurred behind the dame; Who thither led (nor tedious was the way) Where nigh reduced to death the stripling lay.

XXVI They found Rogero fasting from all food For three long days, so broken down; with pain The knight could but upon his feet have stood, To fall, albeit unpushed, to ground again. With helm on head, and with his faulchion good Begirt, he lay reclined in plate and chain. A pillow of his buckler had he made, Where the white unicorn was seen pourtraid.

XXVII There thinking what an injury he had done To his lady love — how ingrate, how untrue To her had been — not simple grief alone O'erwhelmed him, to such height his fury grew, He bit his hands and lips; while pouring down His cheeks, the tears unceasing ran, and through The passion that so wrapt his troubled sprite, Nor Leo nor Melissa heard the knight.

XXVIII Nor therefore interrupts he his lament, Nor checks his sighs, nor checks his trickling tears. Young Leo halts, to hear his speech intent; Lights from his courser, and towards him steers: He knows that of the sorrows which torment Love is the cause; but yet from nought appears Who is the person that such grief hath bred; For by Rogero this remains unsaid.

XXIX Approaching nearer and yet nearer, now He fronts the weeping warrior, face to face, Greets with a brother's love, and stooping low, His neck encircles with a fast embrace. By the lamenting Child I know not how Is liked his sudden presence in that place; Who fears annoy or trouble at his hand; And lest he should his wish for death withstand.

XXX Him with the sweetest words young Leo plied, And with the warmest love that he could show, "Let it not irk thee," to the Child he cried, "To tell the cause from whence thy sorrows flow; For few such desperate evils man betide, But that there is deliverance from his woe, So that the cause be known; nor he bereft Of hope should ever be, so life be left.

XXXI "Much grieve I thou wouldst hide thyself from me, That known me for thy faithful friend and true; Not only now I am so bound to thee, That I the knot can never more undo; But even from the beginning, when to be Thy deadly foeman I had reason due. Hope then that I will succour thee with pelf, With friends, with following, and with life itself.

XXXII "Nor shun to me thy sorrow to explain, And I beseech thee leave to me to try If wealth avail to free thee from thy pain, Art, cunning, open force, or flattery, If my assistance is employed in vain, The last relief remains to thee to die: But be content awhile this deed to shun Till all that thou canst do shall first be done."

XXXIII He said; and with such forceful prayer appealed; So gently and benignly soothed his moan; That good Rogero could not choose but yield, Whose heart was not of iron or of stone; Who deemed, unless he now his lips unsealed, He should a foul discourteous deed have done. He fain would have replied, but made assay Yet twice or thrice, ere words could find their way.

XXXIV "My lord, when known for what I am (and me Now shalt thou know)," he made at last reply, "I wot thou, like myself, content wilt be, And haply more content, that I should die. Know me for him so hated once by thee; Rogero who repaid that hate am I; And now 'tis many days since with intent Of putting thee to death from court I went.

XXXV "Because I would not see my promised bride Borne off by thee; in that Duke Aymon's love And favour was engaged upon thy side. But, for man purposes, and God above Disposes, thy great courtesy, well tried In a sore need, my fixt resolve did move. Nor only I renounced the hate I bore, But purposed to be thine for evermore.

XXXVI "What time I as Rogero was unknown, Thou madest suit I would obtain for thee The Lady Bradamant; which was all one As to demand my heart and soul from me. Whether thy wish I rather than mine own Sought to content, thou hast been made to see. Thine is the lady; her in peace possess; Far more than mine I prize thy happiness.

XXXVII "Content thee, that deprived of her, as well I should myself of worthless life deprive; For better I without a soul could dwell Than without Bradamant remain alive. And never while these veins with life-blood swell Canst thou with her legitimately wive: For vows erewhile have been between us said; Nor she at once can with two husbands wed."

XXXVIII So filled is gentle Leo with amaze When he the stranger for Rogero knows, With lips and brow unmoved, with stedfast gaze And rooted feet, he like a statue shows; Like statue more than man, which votaries raise In churches, for acquittance of their vows. He deems that courtesy of so high a strain Was never done nor will be done again;

XXXIX And that he him doth for Rogero know Not only that goodwill he bore whilere Abates not, but augments his kindness so, That no less grieves the Grecian cavalier Than good Rogero for Rogero's woe. For this, as well as that he will appear Deservedly an emperor's son — although In other things outdone — he will not be Defeated in the race of courtesy;

XL And says, "That day my host was overthrown, Rogero, by thy wond'rous valour, though I had thee at despite, if I had known Thou was Rogero, as I know it now, So me thy virtue would have made thine own, As then it made me, knowing not my foe; So hatred from my bosom would have chased, And with my present love have straight replaced.

XLI "That I Rogero hated, ere I knew Thou was Rogero, will I not deny. But think not that I further would pursue The hatred that I bore thee; and had I, When thee I from thy darksome dungeon drew, Descried the truth, as this I now descry, Such treatment shouldst thou then have had, as thou Shalt have from me, to thine advantage, now;

XLII "And if I willingly had done so then, When not, as I am now, obliged to thee; How much more gladly should I now; and when, Not doing so, I should with reason be Deemed most ungrateful amid ingrate men; Since thou foregoest thine every good for me! But I to thee restore thy gift, and, more Glady than I received it, this restore.

XLIII "The damsel more to thee than me is due; And though for her deserts I hold her dear, If that fair prize some happier mortal drew, I think not I my vital thread should shear: Nor would I by thy death be free to woo: That from the hallowed bands of wedlock clear Wherein the lady hath to thee been tied, I might possess her as my lawful bride.

XLIV "Not only Bradamant would I forego, But whatsoe'er I in the world possess; And rather forfeit life than ever know That grief, through me, should such a knight oppress. To me is thy distrust great cause of woe, That since thou couldst dispose of me no less Than of thyself, thou — rather than apply To me for succour — wouldst of sorrow die."

XLV These words he spake, and more to that intent, Too tedious in these verses to recite; Refuting evermore such argument As might be used in answer by the knight: Who said, at last, "I yield, and am content To live; but how can I ever requite The obligation, which by me is owed To thee that twice hast life on me bestowed?"

XLVI Melissa generous wine and goodly cheer Thither bade carry, in a thought obeyed; And comforted the mourning cavalier, Who would have sunk without her friendly aid. Meanwhile the sound of steeds Frontino's ear Had reached, and thither had he quickly made: Him Leo's squires at his commandment caught, And saddled, and to good Rogero brought;

XLVII Who, though by Leo helped, with much ado And labour sore the gentle courser scaled. So wasted was the vigour which some few Short days before, in fighting field, availed To overthrow a banded host, and do The deeds he did, in cheating armour mailed. Departing thence, ere they had measured more Than half a league, they reached an abbey hoar:

XLVIII Wherein what of that day was yet unworn They past, the morrow, and succeeding day; Until the warrior of the unicorn His vigour had recruited by the stay. He, Leo, and Melissa then return To Charles's royal residence; where lay An embassy, arrived the eve before, Which from the Bulgars' land a message bore.

XLIX Since they that had for king proclaimed the knight Besought Rogero thither to repair Through these their envoys deeming they would light On him in Charles's court, where they should swear Fidelity, and yield to him his right; And he from them the crown receive and wear. Rogero's squire who served this band to steer Has published tidings of the cavalier.

L He of the fight has told which at Belgrade Erewhile Rogero for the Bulgars won; How Leo and his sire were overlaid, And all their army slaughtered and undone; Wherefore the Bulgars him their king had made; Their royal line excluding from the throne: Then how Ungiardo took the warrior brave, And him to cruel Theodora gave.

LI He speaks with that of certain news, which say How good Rogero's jailer was found dead, The prison broke and prisoner away: Of what became of him was nothing said. — Towards the city by a secret way (Nor was his visage seen) Rogero sped. He, on the following morning, and his friend, Leo, to Charles's court together wend.

LII To Charles' court he wends; the bird he bore Of gold with its two heads — of crimson hue Its field — and that same vest and ensigns wore, As was erewhile devised between the two; And such as in the listed fight before His bruised and battered armour was in shew. So that they quickly knew the cavalier From him that strove with Bradamant whilere.

LIII In royal ornaments and costly gown, Unarmed, beside him doth young Leo fare. A worthy following and of high renown Before, behind him, and about him are. He bowed to Charlemagne, who from his throne Had risen to do honour to the pair: Then holding still Rogero by the hand, So spake, while all that warrior closely scanned.

LIV "Behold the champion good, that did maintain From dawn till fall of day the furious fight; And since by Bradamant nor taken, slain, Nor forced beyond the barriers was the knight, He is assured his victory is plain, Dread sir, if he your edict reads aright; And he hath won the lady for his wife: So comes to claim the guerdon of the strife.

LV "Besides that by your edict's tenor none But him can to the damsel lift his eyes, — Is she deserved by deeds of valour done, What other is so worthy of the prize? — Should she by him that loves her best be won, None passes him, nor with the warrior vies; And he is here to fight against all foes That would in arms his right in her oppose."

LVI King Charlemagne and all his peerage stand Amazed, who well believed the Grecian peer With Bradamant had striven with lifted brand In fight, and not that unknown cavalier. Marphisa, thither borne amid the band, That crowded round the royal chair to hear, Hardly till Leo made an ending staid; Then prest before the listening troop, and said:

LVII "Since here Rogero is not, to contest The bride's possession with the stranger knight, Lest he, as undefended, be opprest, And forfeit so without dispute his right, On his behalf I undertake this quest, — His sister I — against whatever wight Shall here assert a claim to Bradamant, Or more desert than good Rogero vaunt."

LVIII She spake this with such anger and disdain, Many surmised amid the assistant crew, That, without waiting leave from Charlemagne, What she had threatened she forthwith would do. No longer Leo deemed it time to feign; And from Rogero's head the helm withdrew; And to Marphisa, "For himself to speak, Behold him here and ready!" cried the Greek.

LIX As looked old Aegeus at the accursed board, Seeing it was his son to whom — so willed His wicked consort — that Athenian lord Had given the juice from deadly drugs distilled; Whom he, if he had recognized his sword Though but a little later, would have killed; So looked Marphisa when, disclosed to view, She in the stranger knight Rogero knew;

LX And ran forthwith to clip the cavalier; Nor could unclasp her arms: with loving show Charlemagne, Roland, and Rinaldo, here And there, fix friendly kisses on his brow. Nor him Sir Dudon, nor Sir Olivier, Nor King Sobrino can caress enow: Nor paladin nor peer, amid the crew, Wearies of welcoming that warrior true.

LXI Leo, who well can play the spokesman, now That warlike band hath ceased to clip the knight, Tells before Charles and all that audience, how Rogero's daring, how Rogero's might, — Albeit to his good squadron's scathe and woe — Which at Belgrade he witnessed in that fight, So moved him that they overweighed all harms Inflicted on him by the warrior's arms.

LXII So that to her Rogero being brought, Who would all havoc of the youth have made, He setting all his family at nought, Had out of durance vile the knight conveyed; And how Rogero, that the rescue wrought By Leo might be worthily repaid, Did that high courtesy; which can by none, That ever were or e'er will be, outdone;

LXIII And he from point to point continuing, said That which Rogero had for him achieved; And after, how by sorrow sore bested, In that to leave his cherished wife he grieved, He had resolved to die, and, almost dead, Was only by his timely aid relieved; And this he told so movingly, no eye Remained, amid those martial many, dry.

LXIV So efficaciously he after prayed To the obstinate Duke Aymon, not alone The stubborn sire of Bradamant he swayed, And to forego his settled purpose won; But that proud lord in person did persuade To beg Rogero's pardon, and his son And son-in-law to be beseech the knight; And thus to him his Bradamant was plight.

LXV To her, where, of her feeble life in doubt, She in a secret chamber made lament, Through many a messenger, with joyful shout And mickle haste, the happy tidings went. Hence the warm blood, that stagnated about Her heart, by her first sorrow thither sent, Ebbed at this notice in so full a tide, Well nigh for sudden joy the damsel died.

LXVI Of all her vigour is she so foregone, She cannot on her feeble feet rely: Yet what her force must needs to you be known, And what the damsel's magnanimity. None doomed to prison, wheel or halter, none Condemned some other evil death to die, About whose brows the sable band is tied, Rejoices more to hear his pardon cried.

LXVII Joys Clermont's, joys Mongrana's noble house, Those kindred branches that fresh know to view. With equal grief Count Anselm overflows, Gan, Falcon, Gini and Ginami's crew: Yet they meanwhile beneath contented brows Conceal the dark and envious thoughts they brew. As the fox waits the motions of the hare, They wait their time for vengeance, and forbear.

LXVIII Besides that oftentimes before the rage Of Roland and Rinaldo on them fell, Though they were calmed by Charles's counsel sage, And common danger from the infidel, They had new cause for grief in Bertolage Slain by their foemen and Sir Pinnabel: But they concealed their hatred, and endured Those griefs, as of the matter ill assured.

LXIX Those envoys of the Bulgars that had made For Charles's court (as hath erewhile been shown), Hoping to find the knight, whose shield pourtrayed The unicorn, elected to their throne, Bless the good fortune which their hope repayed, Seeing that valiant warrior, and fall down Before his feet, and him in humble speech Again to seek their Bulgary beseech;

LXX Where kept for him in Adrianople are The sceptre and the crown, his royal due: But let him succour to his kingdom bear; For — to their further scathe — advices shew Constantine doth a mighty host prepare, And thitherward in person moves anew; And they — of their elected king possest — Hope the Greek empire from his hands to wrest.

LXXI He accepts the realm, by their entreaties won; And, to afford them aid against their foes, Will went to Bulgary when three months are done; Save Fortune otherwise of him dispose. When this is heard by that Greek emperor's son, He bids Rogero on his faith repose; For since by him the Bulgar's realm is swayed, Peace between them and Constantine is made;

LXXII Nor needeth he depart in haste, to guide His Bulgar bands against the Grecian foe; For all that he had conquered far and wide, He will persuade his father to forego. None of the virtues, in Rogero spied, Moved Bradamant's ambitious mother so, Or so to endear her son-in-law availed, As hearing now that son a sovereign hailed.

LXXIII The rich and royal nuptials they prepare As well befits him, by whose care 'tis done, 'Tis done by Charles; and with such cost and care As if 'twere for a daughter of his own. For such the merits of the damsel are, And such had all her martial kindred shown, Charles would not think he should exceed due measure If spent for her was half his kingdom's treasure.

LXXIV He a free court bids cry; whither his way Securely every one that wills may wend; And offers open lists till the ninth day To whosoever would in arms contend; And bids build bowers afield, and interlay Green boughs therein, and flowers and foliage blend; And make those bowers so gay with silk and gold, No fairer place this ample world doth hold.

LXXV Guested within fair Paris cannot be The countless foreign bands that thither fare; Who, rich and poor, of high and low degree, And Greeks and Latins and Barbarians are. There is no end of lord and embassy That thither from all ends of earth repair; All lodged conveniently, to their content, Beneath pavilion, booth, and bower and tent.

LXXVI The weird Melissa against the coming night With singular and matchless ornament Had for that pair the nuptial chamber dight; Whereon long time before she had been bent: Long time before desirous of the rite Had been that dame, presageful of the event; Presageful of futurity, she knew What goodly fruit should from their stems ensue.

LXXVII She had prepared the genial, fruitful bed, Under a broad pavilion; one more rich, Adorned, and jocund, never overhead (Did this for peace or war its master pitch) Was in the world, before or after, spread; And this from Thracian strand had borne the witch. The costly prize from Constantine she bore, Who for disport was tented on that shore.

LXXVIII She with young Leo's leave, or rather so The Grecian's admiration to obtain, And a rare token of that art to show, Which on Hell's mighty dragon puts the rein, And at her pleasure rules that impious foe Of Heaven, together with his evil train, Bade demons the pavilion through mid air To Paris from Constantinople bear.

LXXIX From Constantine that lay therein, who swayed The Grecian empire's sceptre, at mid-day This with its cordage, shaft whereby 'twas stayed, And all within and out, she bore away; And of the costly tent, through air conveyed, For young Rogero made a lodging gay. The bridal ended, this her demon crew Thither, from whence 'twas brought, conveyed anew.

LXXX Two thousand tedious years were nigh complete, Since this fair work was fashioned by the lore Of Trojan maid, warmed with prophetic heat; Who, 'mid long labour and 'mid vigil sore, With her own fingers all the storied sheet Of the pavilion had embroidered o'er; Cassandra hight; that maid to Hector brave (Her brother he) this costly present gave.

LXXXI The curtiest cavalier, the kindliest shoot That ever from her brother's stock should grow (Albeit she knew far distant from its root, With many a branch between, should be that bough) In silk and gold upon the gorgeous suit Of hangings had she wrought in goodly show. Much prized that gift, while living, Priam's son, For its rare work and her by whom 'twas done.

LXXXII But when by treachery perished Priam's heir, And Greeks the Trojans scathed in cruel sort, When her gates opened by false Sinon were, And direr ill was done than tales report, This plunder fell to Menelaus' share, Wherewith to Egypt's land he made resort; There left it to King Proteus, Egypt's lord, In ransom for his prisoned wife restored;

LXXXIII She Helen hight: her Menelaus to free, To Proteus the pavilion gave away; Which, passing through the line of Ptolemy, To Cleopatra fell; from her in fray Agrippa's band on the Leucadian sea Bore off the treasure, amid other prey. Augustus and Tiberius heired the loom, Kept till the time of Constantine in Rome:

LXXXIV That Constantine, whom thou shall ever rue Fair Italy, while the heavens above are rolled. Constantine to Byzantium, when he grew Weary of Tyber, bore the tent of old. Melissa from his namesake this withdrew, Its pole of ivory and its cord of gold, And all its cloth with beauteous figures fraught; Fairer Apelles' pencil never wrought.

LXXXV Here the three Graces in gay vesture gowned Assisted the delivery of a queen. Not in four ages in this earthly round Was ever born a boy so fair of mien. Jove, Venus, Mars, and Mercury renowned For fluent speech, about the child are seen: Him have they strewed, and stew with heaven's perfume, Ambrosial odours and aetherial bloom.

LXXXVI Hippolytus a little label said, Inscribed upon the baby's swaddling clothes. By the hand him Fortune leads in age more staid; And Valour as a guide before him goes. An unknown band in sweeping vest arraid, With long descending locks, the tapestry shows, Deputed by Corvinus to desire The tender infant from his princely sire.

LXXXVII He reverently parts from Hercules' side, From her, his lady mother, Eleanor; And to the Danube wends; where far and wide They meet the boy, and as a god adore. The prudent king of Hungary is descried, Who does due honour to his ripened lore, In yet unripe, yea, raw and tender years, And ranks the stripling above all his peers.

LXXXVIII One is there that in his green age and new Places Strigonia's crozier in his hand. Him ever at Corvinus' side we view; Whether he doth in court or camp command, Whether against the Turk, or German crew The puissant monarch leads his martial band, Watchful Hippolytus is at his side, And gathers virtue from his generous guide.

LXXXIX There is it seen, how he his blooming age Divides mid arts and wholesome discipline: The secret spirit of the ancient page There Fuscus well instructs him to divine: "This must thou shun, that follow" — seems the sage To say — "if thou immortally wouldst shine." Fashioned withal with so much skill and care By her who wrought that work, their gestures were.

XC A cardinal he next is seen, though young In years, at council in the Vatican; Where for deep wisdom graced by eloquent tongue, With wonder him the assembled conclave scan. "What will he be" — they seem to say among Themselves — "when he is ripened into man? Oh! if on him St. Peter's mantle fall, What a blest aera! what a happy call!"

XCI That brave youth's liberal pastimes are designed In other place; on Alpine mountain hoar Here he affronts the bear of rugged kind; And there in rushy bottom bays the boar: Now on his jennet he outgoes the wind, And drives some goat or gallant hind before; Which falls o'ertaken on the dusty plain, By his descending faulchion cleft in twain.

XCII He is descried, amid a fair array Of poets and philosophers elsewhere This pricks for him the wandering planets' way; These earth, these heaven for his instruction square. Some chant sad elegies, some verses gay Lays lyric or heroic; singers there He with rich music hears; nor moves a pace But what in every step is sovereign grace.

XCIII The first part of the storied walls pourtraied That noble prince's gentle infancy. Cassandra all beside had overlaid With fears of justice, prudence, modesty, Valour, and that fifty virtue, which hath made With those fair sisters closest amity; I speak of her that gives and that bestows. With all these virtues gilt, the stripling glows.

XCIV In this part is the princely youth espied With that unhappy duke, the Insubri's head; In peace they sit in council at his side, Together armed, the serpent-banner spread. The youth by one unchanging faith is tied To him for ever, well or ill bested; His followers still in flight before the foe, His guide in peril, his support in woe.

XCV Him in another quarter you descry, For his Ferrara and her duke in fear, Who by strange proofs doth sift, and certify To his just brother, vouched by tokens clear, The close device of that ill treachery, Hatched by those kinsmen whom he held most dear; Hence justly he becomes that title's heir, Which Rome yet free bade righteous Tully bear.

XCVI Elsewhere in martial panoply he shone, Hasting to help the church with lifted blade; With scanty and tumultuous levy gone Against well-ordered host in arms arraid: And lo! the coming of that chief alone Affords the priestly band such present aid, Extinguished are the fires before they spread. He came, he saw, he conquered, may be said.

XCVII Elsewhere he stands upon his native strand, Fighting against the mightiest armament, That whensoever against Argive land, Or Turkish, from Venetian harbour went; Scatters and overthrows the hostile band, And — spoil and prisoners to his brother sent — Nothing reserves save that unfading bay; The only prize he cannot give away.

XCVIII Upon those figures gazed the courtly crew, But read no meaning in the storied wall: Because there was not any one to shew That these were things hereafter to befall. Those fair and quaintly fashioned forms they view With pleasure, and peruse the scrolls withal: But Bradamant, to whom the whole was known, By wise Melissa taught, rejoiced alone.

XCIX Though not instructed in that history Like gentle Bradamant, the affianced knight Remembers how amid his progeny Atlantes often praised this Hippolyte. — Who faithfully could verse such courtesy, As Charlemagne vouchsafed to every wight? With various games that solemn feast was cheered, And charged with viands aye the board appeared.

C Who is a valiant knight, is here descried; For daily broke a thousand lances lay: Singly to combat or in troops they ride; On horseback or afoot, they mix in fray. Worthiest of all Rogero is espied, Who always conquers, jousting night and day; And so, in wrestling, dance, and every deed, Still from its rivals bears away the meed.

CI On the last day, when at their festive cheer Was seated solemnly the assembled band, Where at Charles' left was placed the wedded peer, And Bradamant upon his better hand, Across the fields an armed cavalier, Of semblance haughty, and of stature grand, Was seen to ride towards the royal table; Himself and courser wholly clothed in sable.

CII The King of Argier he; that for the scorn Received from her, when on the bridge he fell, Never to clothe himself in arms had sworn, Nor draw the faulchion nor bestride the sell, Till he had like an anchoret outworn A year and month and day in lowly cell. So to chastise themselves for such like crimes Were cavaliers accustomed in those times.

CIII Albeit of Charles and Agramant the Moor Had heard the several fortunes while away, Not to foreswear himself, he armed no more Than if in nought concerned in that affray: But when the year and month were wholly o'er, And wholly past was the succeeding day, With other courser, harness, sword, and lance, The king betook him to the court of France.

CIV He neither lighted from his horse, nor bowed His head; and, without sign of reverence due, His scorn for Charlemagne by gestures showed, And the high presence of so fair a crew. Astound and full of wonder stood the crowd, Such license in that haughty man to view. All leave their meat, all leave their talk, to hear The purpose of the stranger cavalier.

CV To Charles and to Rogero opposite, With a loud voice, and in proud accent, "I Am Rodomont of Sarza," said the knight, "Who thee, Rogero, to the field defy; And here, before the sun withdraws his light, Will prove on thee thine infidelity; And that thou, as a traitor to thy lord, Deserv'st not any honour at this board.

CVI "Albeit thy felony be plain and clear, Which thou, as christened, canst not disavow; Nathless to make it yet more plain appear, This will I prove upon thee; and, if thou Canst find a knight to combat for thee here, Him will accept; — if one be not enow — Will four, nay six accept; and will maintain My words against them all in listed plain."

CVII Rogero, with the leave of Pepin's son, Uprose at that appeal, and thus replied: That he — nor he alone — but every one, Who thus impeached him as a traitor, lied; That so he by his king had ever done, Him none could justly blame; and on his side, He was prepared in listed field to shew He evermore by him had done his due.

CVIII He can defend himself; nor need he crave Another warrior's help that course to run; And 'tis his hope to show him he would have Enough, perhaps would have too much, of one. Thither Orlando and Rinaldo, brave Olivier, and his white and sable son, Thither good Dudon and Marphisa wend; Who fain with that fierce paynim will contend.

CIX They tell Rogero that, as newly wed The combat he in person should refuse. "Take ye no further pains," the warrior said, "For such would be for me a foul excuse." The Tartar's arms were brought, which cut the thread Of more delay and of all further truce: With spurs Orlando deck'd the youthful lord, King Charlemagne begirt him with the sword.

CX Marphisa and Bradamant in corslet case His breast, and clothe him in his other gear. Astolpho led his horse of noble race: Sir Dudon held his stirrup: far and near Rinaldo and Namus made the mob give place, Assisted by the Marquis Olivier. All from the crowded lists they drive with speed, Evermore kept in order for such need.

CXI The pale-faced dames and damsels troop, in guise Of pigeons round the lists, a timid show; When, homeward bound, from fruitful field they rise, Scared by wide-sweeping winds, which loudly blow, Mid flash and clap; and when the sable skies Threat hail and rain, the harvest's waste and woe: A timid troop, they for Rogero fear, Ill matched they deem with that fierce cavalier.

CXII So him deemed all the rabble; and so most Of those bold cavalier and barons thought; In that they had not yet the memory lost Of what that paynim had in Paris wrought, When singly fire and sword the warrior tost, And much of that fair town to ruin brought; Whose signs remained, and yet will long remain: Nor ever greater havoc plagued that reign.

CXIII Bradamant's heart above those others' beat: Not that she deemed the Saracen in might, Or valour which in the heart-core hath its seat, Was of more prowess than the youthful knight; Nor (what oft gives success in martial feat That with the paynim was the better right. Yet cannot she her some ill misgivings quell. But upon those that love such fear sits well.

CXIV Oh! in her fear for him, how willingly She battle for Rogero would have done! If lifeless on the listed field to lie Surer than sure, — in fight with Ulien's son. More than one death would she consent to die, If she withal could suffer more than one, Rather than she in that unhappy strife Would see her cherished consort risk his life.

CXV But prayer availed not on the damsel's part To make Rogero leave to her the quest: She then with mournful face and beating heart Stood by to view that pair to fight addrest. From right and left the peer and paynim start, And at each other run with lance in rest. The spears seem ice, as they in shivers fly. The fragments birds, that mount through middle sky.

CXVI Rodomont's lance which smote in the career Upon mid-shield, yet harmed it little; so Perfect was famous Hector's iron gear, Hardened by Vulcan's hand, and safe from blow. As well against the shield his levelled spear Rogero guides, and that good buckler — though Well steeled within and out, with bone between, And nigh a palm in thickness — pierces clean;

CXVII And — but his lance resists not that fierce shock, And at the first assault its splinters fly, And bits and fragments of the shivered stock Seem fledged with feathers they ascend so high; Were his arms hewn from adamantine rock, The spear would pierce the paynim's panoply; And end that battle: but it breaks withal, And on their croups both staggering coursers fall.

CXVIII With bridle and with spur the martial pair Raise their proud horses nimbly from the ground; And having broke their spears, with faulchions bare Return, to bandy fierce and cruel wound. Wheeling with wondrous mastery, here and there, The bold and ready coursers in a round, The warriors with their biting swords begin To try where either's armour is most thin.

CXIX Rodomont had not that hard dragon-hide Which heretofore had cased the warrior's breast; Nor Nimrod's trenchant sword was at his side; Nor the accustomed helm his temples prest. For on that bridge which spanned the narrow tide, A loser to Dordona's lady, vest And arms suspended from the votive stone He left; as I, meseems, erewhile have shown.

CXX Clad was the king in other goodly mail; Yet not like that first panoply secure: But neither this, nor that, nor harder scale Could Balisarda's deadly dint endure; Against which neither workmanship avail, Enchantment, temper, nor prime steel and pure. So here so there Rogero plied his sword, He more than once the paynim's armour bored.

CXXI When Rodomont beholds in that fierce close His widely crimsoned arms, nor can restrain The greater portion of those griding blows From biting to the quick, through plate and chain, He with more fury, with more rage o'erflows, Than in mid winter the tempestrous main Flings down his shield, and with both hands outright Lays at Rogero's helm with all his might.

CXXII With that excessive force, wherewith the gin, Erected in two barges upon Po, And raised by men and wheels, with deafening din Descends upon the sharpened piles below, With all his might he smote the paladin With either hand; was never direr blow: Him the charmed helmet helped, or — such its force — The stroke would have divided man and horse.

CXXIII As if about to fall, the youthful lord Twice nodded, opening legs and arms; anew Rodomont smote, in that he would afford His foe no time his spirits to renew: Then threatened other stroke; but that fine sword Bore not such hammering, and in shivers flew; And the bold Saracen, bereft of brand Was in the combat left with unarmed hand.

CXXIV But not for this doth Rodomont refrain: He swoops upon the Child, unheeding aught: So sore astounded is Rogero's brain; So wholly overclouded is his thought. But him the paynim well awakes again, Whom by the neck he with strong arm has caught, And gripes and grapples with such mighty force, He falls on earth, pulled headlong from his horse.

CXXV Yet leaps from earth as nimbly, moved by spleen Far less than shame; for on his gentle bride He turned his eyes, and that fair face serene Now troubled the disdainful warrior spied. She in sore doubt her champion's fall had seen; And well nigh at that sight the lady died. Rogero, quickly to revenge the affront, Clutches his sword and faces Rodomont.

CXXVI He at Rogero rode, who that rude shock Shunned warily, retiring from his ground, And, as he past, the paynim's bridle took With his left had, and turned his courser round; While with his right he at his rider struck, Whom he in belly, flank and breast would wound; And twice sore anguish felt the monarch, gored In flank and thigh, by good Rogero's sword.

CXXVII Rodomont, grasping still in that close fight The hilt and pommel of his broken blade, Layed at Rogero's helmet with such might, That him another stroke might have dismaid: But good Rogero, who should win of right, Seizing his arm, the king so rudely swayed, Bringing his left his better hand to speed, That he pulled down the paynim from his steed.

CXXVIII Through force or skill, so fell the Moorish lord, He stood his match, I rather ought to say Fell on his feet; because Rogero's sword Gave him, 'twas deemed, advantage in the fray. Rogero stands aloof, with wary ward As fain to keep the paynim king at bay. For the wise champion will not let a wight So talk and bulky close with him in fight;

CXXIX Rogero flank and thigh dyed red beheld, And other wounds; and hoped he would have failed By little and by little, as it welled; So that he finally should have prevailed. His hilt and pommel in his fist yet held The paynim, which with all his might he scaled At young Rogero; whom he smote so sore, The stripling never was so stunned before.

CXXX In the helmet-cheek and shoulder-bone below The Child was smit, and left so sore astound, He, tripping still and staggering to and fro, Scarce kept himself from falling to the ground. Rodomont fain would close upon his foe; But his foot fails him, weakened by the wound, Which pierced his thigh: he overtasked his might; And on his kneepan fell the paynim knight.

CXXXI Rogero lost no time, and with fierce blows Smote him in face and bosom with his brand; Hammered, and held the Saracen so close, To ground he bore that champion with his hand. But he so stirred himself, again he rose: He gripes Rogero so, fast locked they stand. Seconding their huge vigour by address, They circle one another, shake, and press.

CXXXII His wounded thigh and gaping flank had sore Weakened the vigour of the Moorish king: Rogero had address; had mickle lore; Was greatly practised in the wrestlers' ring: He marked his vantage, nor from strife forbore; And, where he saw the blood most freely spring, And where most wounded was the warrior, prest The paynim with his feet, his arms, and breast.

CXXXIII Rodomont filled with spite and rage, his foe Takes by the neck and shoulders, and now bends Towards him, and now pushes from him; now Raises from earth, and on his chest suspends; Whirls here and there and grapples; and to throw The stripling sorely in that strife contends. Collected in himself, Rogero wrought, To keep his vantage taxing strength and thought.

CXXXIV So shifting oft his hold, about the Moor His arms the good and bold Rogero wound; Against his left flank shoved his breast, and sore Strained him with all his strength engirdled round. At once he past his better leg before Rodomont's knees and pushed, and from the ground Uplifted high in air the Moorish lord; Then hurled him down head foremost on the sward.

CXXXV Such was the shock wherewith King Rodomont With battered head and spine the champion smote, That, issuing from his wounds as from a font, Streams of red blood the crimsoned herbage float. Rogero, holding Fortune by the front, Lest he should rise, with one hand griped his throat, With one a dagger at his eyes addrest; And with his knees the paynim's belly prest.

CXXVI As sometimes where they work the golden vein Within Pannonian or Iberian cave, In unexpected ruin whelm the train By impious avarice there condemned to slave, So with the load they lie opprest, with pain A passage can their prisoned spirit have: No less opprest the doughty paynim lay, Pinned to the ground in that disastrous fray.

CXXXVII Rogero at his vizor doth present His naked poniard's point, with threatening cry, That he will slay him, save he yields, content To let him live, if he for grace apply. But Rodomont, who rather than be shent For the least deed of shame, preferred to die, Writhed, struggled, and with all his vigour tried To pull Rogero down, and nought replied.

CXXXVIII As mastiff that below the deer-hound lies, Fixed by the gullet fast, with holding bite, Sorely bestirs himself and vainly tries, With lips besmeared with foam and eyes alight, And cannot from beneath the conqueror rise, Who foils his foe by force, and not despite; So vainly strives the monarch of Argier To rise from underneath the cavalier.

CXXXIX Yet Rodomont so twists and strives, he gains The freedom of his better arm anew; And with the right hand, which his poniard strains, For he had drawn his deadly dagger too, Would wound Rogero underneath the reins: But now the wary youth the error knew Through which he might have died, by his delay That impious Saracen forthwith to slay;

CXL And smiting twice or thrice his horrid front, Raising as high as he could raise in air His dagger, buried it in Rodomont; And freed himself withal from further care. Loosed from the more than icy corse, to font Of fetid Acheron, and hell's foul repair, The indignant spirit fled, blaspheming loud; Erewhile on earth so haughty and so proud.

THE END