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Medieval and Classical Library

Orlando Furioso
("Orlando Enraged")

Canto 38 & Canto 39

Online Medieval and Classical Library Release #10a


To Arles the Child, to Charles Marphisa wends,
To be baptized, with Bradamant for guide.
Astolpho from the holy realm descends;
Through whom with sight the Nubian is supplied:
Agramant's land he with his troop offends;
But he is of his Africk realm so wide,
With Charles he bargains, that, on either side,
Two knights by strife their quarrel should decide.

Ye courteous ladies, who unto my strain
Kind audience lend -- I read it in your cheer --
That good Rogero should depart again
So suddenly, from her that held him dear,
Displeases ye, and scarce inflicts less pain
Than that which Bradamant endured whilere:
I read you also argue, to his shame,
That feebly burned in him the amorous flame.

If from her side for other cause had gone,
Against that lady's will, the youthful lord;
Though in the hope more treasure to have won
Than swelled rich Croesus' or rich Crassus' hoard,
I too should deem the dart, by Cupid thrown,
Had not the heart-core of Rogero gored.
For such a sovereign joy, a prize so high
No silver and no gold could ever buy.

Yet to preserve our honour not alone
Deserves excuse, it also merits praise:
This to preserve, I say, when to have done
In other wise, might shame and scandal raise;
And had fair Bradamant reluctance shown,
And obstinately interposed delays,
This, as a certain sign, had served to prove
That lady's little wit or little love.

For if his life, whom gentle woman loves,
As her own life she values, or before;
(I speak of one at whom young Cupid roves
With arrows which beneath the mantle gore)
His honour to his pleasure it behoves
That woman to prefer, by so much more,
As man beyond his life his honour treasures,
Esteemed by him above all other pleasures.

His duty good Rogero satisfied,
Following the royal lord with whom he came;
For having no fair cause to quit his side,
He could not leave the Paynim without shame;
And, if his sire had by Almontes died,
In this, King Agramant was not to blame;
Who for his parents' every past offence
Had made Rogero mighty recompense.

He will perform his duty to repair
To his liege-lord; so did that martial maid;
Who had not with reiterated prayer
(As so she might have done) Rogero stayed.
The stripling may appay the warlike fair
In other season, if not now appaid;
But twice two hundred years will not atone
The crying sin of honour once foregone.

To Arles-town whither had his king conveyed
His remnant of a host, he pricked anew;
While they that, since their kindred was displayed,
Had a close friendship formed -- the damsels two --
Thither together go where Charles had made
His mightiest effort, with the Christian crew;
Hoping by siege or fight to break the foe,
And free his kingdom form so long a woe.

Bradamant, when she in the camp appeared,
Was greeted with a welcome warm and kind.
On all sides was she hailed, by all was cheered;
And she in this or that her head inclined.
Rinaldo, when he of her coming heard,
Met her; nor young Richardo stayed behind;
Nor Richardet; nor others of her race;
And all received the maid with joyful face.

When next 'tis known, the second of the twain
Is that Marphisa, so in arms renowned,
Who from Catay unto the bounds of Spain
Had journeyed, with a thousand laurels crowned,
Nor rich nor poor within their tents remain:
The curious crowd, encompassing them round,
Press, harm, and heave each other here and there,
In the sole wish to see so bright a pair.

By them was Charles saluted reverently,
And the first day was this (has Turpin shown)
Marphisa had been seen to bend her knee:
For Pepin's royal son to her, alone,
Deserving of such duty seemed to be,
Mid emperors or kings that filled a throne,
Baptized or infidel, of all those named
For mighty riches, or for valour famed.

Her kindly Charlemagne received, and wide
Of the pavilions met, in open view;
And, above king, and prince, and peer, beside
Himself the monarch placed that damsel true.
Who go not, are dismist; so none abide
In little time, except the good and few.
The Paladins and lords remain; without,
Is left the unrespected rabble-rout.

Marphisa first began in grateful strain:
"Unconquered Caesar, glorious and august,
Who, to Alcides' strait from Indian main,
Mak'st Scythian's pale and Aethiop's race adust
Revere thy Christian cross of snowy grain,
-- Of earthly monarchs thou most sage and just --
Hither thy glory, which no limits bound,
Has brought me from the world's extremest ground;

"And (to avow the truth) in jealous mood
Alone I came, alone with thee to fight;
Because I grudged that king so puissant shou'd
Exist on earth, save he observed my rite.
Hence reek they ravaged fields with Christian blood;
And yet with greater rancour and despite,
Like cruel foe, I purposed to offend,
But that it chanced, one changed me to a friend.

"When to worst harm and scaith thy bands I doom,
I find (as at my leisure I will show)
Rogero of Risa was my father, whom
An evil brother traitorously laid low.
Me my sad mother carried in her womb
Beyond the sea, and bore in want and woe.
Till my seventh year by wizard nourished, I
Was stolen from him by thieves of Araby.

"They to a king in Persia vended me,
That after died beneath my faulchion, who
Would fain have taken my virginity.
When grown, that king and all his court I slew;
Chased his ill race, and seized his royalty;
And -- such my fortune -- by a month or two,
I eithteen years had not o'erpast, before
I added to my realm six kingdoms more;

"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;

"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."

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.

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.

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.

'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.

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.

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.

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.

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;

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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;

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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:

"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.

"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.

"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."

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:

"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;

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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."

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:

"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.

"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;

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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;

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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?

"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.

"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.

"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.

"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;

"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."

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.

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.

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.

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 --

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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;

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.

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.

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,

"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;

"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.

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;

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.


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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

"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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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:

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.

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.

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;

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.

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.

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.

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;

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.

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.

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.

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;

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!

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!"

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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;

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.

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;

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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:

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;

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

`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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.