1532

ORLANDO FURIOSO
Lodovico Ariosto

translated by John Harington

Ariosto, Lodovico (1474-1533) - Italian poet whose spent most of his life in
service to the House of Este. His poetry was popular in his day, but he is best-known
for his enduring masterpiece, Orlando Furioso,(Roland Mad). Orlando Fu-rioso
(1532) - One of the most important works of early Italian literature, this epic
poem consists of a number of stories centering around Orlando and other knights
of Charlemagne. It was written as a continuation of the unfinished and lesser-known
Orlando Innamorato, by Boiardo.

Table Of Contents

TRANSLATORŐS DEDICATION . . . . . . . . . . . 6
THE FIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . . 8
THE SECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 44
THE THIRD BOOK OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 78
THE FOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 107
THE FIFTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 134
THE SIXTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 175
THE SEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 211
THE EIGHT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 242
THE NINTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 278
THE TENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 317
THE ELEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 360
THE TWELFTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 390
THE THIRTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 422
THE FOURTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 452
THE FIFTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 501
THE SIXTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 538
THE SEVENTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 567
THE EIGHTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 607
THE NINETEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 649
THE TWENTIETH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 681
THE TWENTYFIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 725
THE TWENTYSECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 757
THE TWENTYTHIRD BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 792
THE TWENTYFOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 840
THE TWENTYFIFT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 883
THE TWENTYSIXT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 918
THE TWENTYSEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO 962
THE TWENTYEIGHT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1012
THE TWENTYNINTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1055
THE THIRTIETH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1087
THE THIRTYFIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1127
THE THIRTYSECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1167
THE THIRTYTHIRD BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1213
THE THIRTYFOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1265
THE THIRTYFIFT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1306
THE THIRTYSIXTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1341
THE THIRTYSEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1378
THE THIRTYEIGHT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1424
THE THIRTYNINTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1465
THE FORTIETH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1503
THE FORTYFIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1538
THE FORTYSECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1580
THE FORTYTHIRD BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1617
THE FORTYFOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1700
THE FORTYFIFT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1743
THE FORTYSIXT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1793
TRANSLATORS DEDICATION


TO THE MOST EXCELLENT
VERTUOUS, AND NOBLE PRINCESSE,
ELIZABETH,
BY THE GRACE OF GOD, QUEENE OF
ENGLAND, FRANCE AND IRELAND,
DEFENDER OF THE FAITH, &c.

MOST renowned (and most worthy to be most renowned)
Soveraigne Ladie; I presume to offer to your Highnesse this first
part of the fruit of the little garden of my slender skill. It hath been
the longer in growing, and is the lesse worthy the gathering, be-cause
my ground is barren and too cold for such dainty Italian
fruits, being also perhaps over-shaded with trees of some older
growth: but the beams of your blessed countenance, vouchsafing
to shine on so poore a soile, shall soone disperse all hurtfull mists
that would obscure it, and easily dissolve all (whether they be Mel-dews,
or Fel-dews) that would sterve this shallow set plant. I de-sire
to be briefe, because I love to be plaine. Whatsoever I am or
can, is your Majesties. Your gracious favours have been extended
in my poore family even to the third generation, your bounty to us
and our heires. Wherefore this (though unperfect and unworthy
worke) I humbly recommend to that gracious protection, under
which I enjoy all in which I can take joy.
If your Highnesse will read it, who dare reject it? if allow it,
who can reproove it? if protect it, what MOMUS barking, or ZOI-LUS
biting can any way hurt or annoy it? And thus most humbly
craving pardon for this boldnesse, I cease to write, though I will
not cease to wish, that your high felicities may never cease.
Your most humble servant,
JOHN HARINGTON.

ARGUMENT
THE FIRST BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Charles hath the foyle, Angelica flies thence:
Renaldos horse holpe him his Love to find:
Ferraw with him doth fight in her defence:
She flies againe, they stay not long behind.
Argalias ghost reproves Ferraws offence,
The Spaniard to new vows himselfe doth bind:
His mistris presence Sacrapant enjoyeth,
With Bradamant, Renaldo him annoyeth.

FIRST BOOKE
1
Of Dames, of Knights, of armes, of loves delight,
Of courtesies, of high attempts I speake,
Then when the Moores transported all their might
On Africke seas, the force of France to breake:
Incited by the youthfull heate and spight
Of Agramant their King, that vowd to wreake
The death of King Trayano (lately slaine)
Upon the Romane Emperour Charlemaine.
2
I will no lesse Orlandos acts declare,
(A tale in prose ne verse yet sung or said)
Who fell bestraught with love, a hap most rare,
To one that erst was counted wise and stayd:
If my sweet Saint that causeth my like care,
My slender muse affoord some gracious ayd,
I make no doubt but I shall have the skill.
As much as I have promist to fulfill.
3
Vouchsafe (O Prince of most renowned race,
The ornament and hope of this our time)
Taccept this gift presented to your grace,
By me your servant rudely here in rime.
And though I paper pay and inke, in place
Of deeper debt, yet take it for no crime:
It may suffice a poore and humble debter,
To say, and if he could it shoulde be bet
4
Here shall you find among the worthy peeres,
Whose praises I prepare to tell in verse,
Rogero, him from whom of auncient yeeres
Your princely stems derived, I reherse:
Whose noble mind by princely acts appeares,
Whose worthy fame even to the skie doth perse:
So you vouchsafe my lowly stile and base,
Among your high conceits a little plase.
5
Orlando who long time had loved deare,
Angelica the faire: and for her sake,
About the world, in nations far and neare,
Did high attempts performe and undertake,
Returnd with her into the West that yeare,
That Charles his power against the Turks did make:
And with the force of Germanie and France,
Neare Pyren Alpes his standard did advance.
6
To make the Kings of Affrike and of Spaine,
Repent their rash attempts and foolish vaunts;
One having brought from Affrike in his traine,
All able men to carry sword or launce,
The other movd the Spaniards now againe
To overthrow the goodly Realme of Fraunce,
And hither (as I said) Orlando went,
But of his comming straight he did repent.
7
For here (behold how humane judgements are,
And how the wiser sort art oft mistaken)
His Ladie whom he guarded had so farre,
Nor had in fights nor dangers great forsaken,
Without the dint of sword or open warre,
Amid his friends away from him was taken.
For Charles the great, a valiant Prince and wise,
Did this to quench a broile that did arise.
8
Betweene Orlando and Renaldo late,
There fell about Angelica some brall,
And each of them began the tother hate,
This Ladies love had made them both so thrall.
But Charles who much mislikes that such debate
Betweene such friends should rise, on cause so small,
To Namus of Bavier in keeping gave her,
And suffred neither of them both to have her.
9
But promist he would presently bestow
The damsell faire, on him that in that fight,
The plainest proofe should of his prowesse show,
And danger most the Pagans with his might,
But (ay the while) the Christians take the blow,
Their souldiers slaine, their Captaines put to flight,
The Duke himselfe a prisner there was taken,
His tent was quite abandond and forsaken.
10
Where when the damsell faire a while had stayd,
That for the victor pointed was a pray,
She tooke her horse, ne farther time delayd,
But secretly convayd her selfe away,
For she foresaw, and was full sore afrayd,
That this to Charles would prove a dismall day.
And riding through a wood, she hapt to meet
A Knight that came against her on his feet.
11
His curats on; his helmet not undone,
His sword and target ready to the same,
And through the wood so swiftly he did runne,
As they that go halfe naked for a game.
But never did a shepheards daughter shunne
More speedily a snake that on her came,
Then faire Angelica did take her flight,
When as she once had knowledge of the Knight.
12
This valiant Knight was Lord of Clarimount,
Duke Ammons sonne, as you shall understand,
Who having lost his horse of good account,
That by mishap was slipt out of his hand,
He followd him, in hope againe to mount,
Untill this Ladies fight did make him stand,
Whose face and shape proportiond were so well,
They seemd the house where love it selfe did dwell.
13
But she that shuns Renaldo all she may,
Upon her horses necke doth lay the raine,
Through thicke and thin she gallopeth away,
Ne makes she choise of beaten way or plaine,
But gives her palfrey leave to chuse the way,
And being movd with feare and with disdaine,
Now up, now downe, she never leaves to ride,
Till she arrived by a river side.
14
Fast by the streame Ferraw she sees anone,
(Who noyd, in part with dust, and part with sweat)
Out of the battell hither came alone,
With drinke his thirst, with aire to swage his heat;
And minding backe againe to have bene gone,
He was detaind with an unlookt for let,
Into the streame by hap his helmet fell,
And how to get it out he cannot tell.
15
And hearing now the noise and mournfull crie
Of one with piteous voice demaunding ayd,
Seeing the damsell eke approching nie,
That nought but helpe against Renaldo prayd,
What wight it was, he guessed by and by,
Though looking pale, like one that had bene frayd,
And though she had not late bene in his sight,
He thought it was Angelica the bright.
16
And being both a stout and courteous Knight,
And love a little kindling in his brest,
He promist straight to aide her all he might,
And to performe what ever she request.
And though he want an helmet, yet to fight
With bold Renaldo he will do his best.
And both the one, the other straight defied,
Oft having either others value tried.
17
Betweene them two a combat fierce began,
With strokes that might have pierst the hardest rocks.
While they thus fight on foote, and man to man,
And give and take so hard and heavy knocks,
Away the damsell posteth all she can,
Their paine and travell she requites with mocks.
So hard she rode while they were at their fight,
That she was cleane escaped out of sight.
18
When they long time contended had in vaine,
Who should remaine the master in the field,
And that with force, with cunning, nor with paine,
The tone of them could make the other yeeld,
Renaldo first did move the Knight of Spaine
(Although he usd such curtesie but seeld)
To make a truce; ne was he to be blamed,
For love his heart to other fight inflamed.
19
You thought (said he) to hinder me alone,
But you have hurt your selfe as much or more,
You see the faire Angelica is gone,
So soone we leese that earst we fought so sore.
Had you me tane or slaine, your gaine were none,
Sith you were nere the nere your love therfore.
For while we two have made this little stay,
She lets us both alone and goes her way.
20
But if you love the Ladie, as you say,
Then let us both agree to find her out,
To have her first will be our wisest way,
And when of holding her there is no doubt,
Then by consent let her remaine his pray,
That with his sword can prove himselfe most stout,
I see not else after our long debate,
How either of us can amend his state.
21
Ferraw (that felt small pleasure in the fight)
Agreed a sound and friendly league to make:
They lay aside all wrath and malice quight,
And at the parting from the running lake,
The Pagan would not let the Christen Knight
To follow him on foote, for manners sake:
But prayes him mount behind his horses backe,
And so they seeke the damsell by the tracke.
22
O auncient Knights of true and noble hart,
They rivals were, one faith they livd not under,
Beside they felt their bodies shrewdly smart
Of blowes late given, and yet (behold a wonder)
Through thicke and thin, suspition set apart,
Like friends they ride, and parted not asunder,
Untill the horse with double spurring drived,
Unto a way, which parts in two, arrived.
23
And being neither able to descrie
Which way was gone Angelica the bright,
Because the tracke of horses feet, whereby
They seeke her out, appeare alike in sight:
They part, and either will his fortune try,
The left hand one, the other takes the right.
The Spaniard when he wandred had a while,
Came whence he went, the way did him beguile.
24
He was arrivd but there, with all his paine,
Where in the foord he let his helmet fall,
And of his Ladie (whom he lovd in vaine)
He now had little hope, or none at all.
His helmet now he thinkes to get againe,
And seekes it out, but seeke it while he shall,
It was so deeply sunken in the sand,
He cannot get it out at any hand.
25
Hard by the banke a tall yong Popler grew,
Which he cut downe, thereof a pole to make,
With which each place in feeling and in vew,
To find his scull he up and downe doth rake,
But lo a hap unlookt for doth ensew,
While he such needlesse frutelesse paine doth take,
He saw a Knight arise out of the brooke,
Breasthie, with visage grim, and angry looke.
26
The Knight was armd at all points save the hed,
And in his hand he held the helmet plaine,
That very helmet that such care had bred
In him that late had sought it with such paine.
And looking grimly on Ferraw, he sed,
Ah faithlesse wretch, in promise false and vaine,
It greeves thee now this helmet so to misse,
That should of right be rendred long ere this.
27
Remember (cruell Pagan) when you killed
Me, brother to Angelica the bright:
You said you would (as I then dying willed)
Mine armour drowne, when finisht were the fight,
Now if that fortune have the thing fulfilled,
Which thou thy self sholdst have performd in right,
Greeve not thy selfe, or if thou wilt be greeved,
Greeve that thy promise cannot be beleeved.
28
But if to want an helmet thou repine,
Get one wherewith thine honour thou maist save,
Such hath Orlando Countie Paladine,
Renaldo such, or one perchance more brave,
That was from Almont tane, this from Mambrine:
Win one of these; that, thou with praise maist have,
And as for this, surecase to seeke it more,
But leave it as thou promisd me before.
29
Ferraw was much amazd to see the sprite,
That made this strange appearance unexpected,
His voice was gone, his haire did stand upright,
His senses all were so to feare subjected.
His heart did swell with anger and despight,
To heare his breach of promise thus objected,
And that Argalia (so the Knight was named)
With just reproofe could make him thus ashamed.
30
And wanting time, the matter to excuse,
And being guiltie of no litle blame,
He rested mute, and in a senslesse muse,
So sore his heart was tainted with the shame.
And by Lanfusas life he vowd to use
No helmet, till such time he gat the same,
Which from the stout Almont Orlando wan,
When as they two encountted man to man.
31
But he this vow to keepe more firmely ment,
And kept it better then the first he made,
Away he parted hence a malcontent,
And many daies ensuing rested sad.
To seeke Orlando out is his intent,
With whom to fight he would be very glad,
But now what haps unto Renaldo fell,
That tooke the other way, tis time to tell.
32
Not farre he walkt, but he his horse had spide,
That praunsing went before him on the way,
Holla my boy holla (Renaldo cride)
The want of thee annoyd me much to day.
But Bayard will not let his master ride,
But takes his heeles and faster goes away.
His flight much anger in Renaldo bred:
But follow we Angelica that fled.
33
That fled through woods and deserts all obscure,
Through places uninhabited and wast,
Ne could she yet repute her selfe secure,
But farther still she gallopeth in hast.
Each leafe that stirres in her doth feare procure,
And maketh her affrighted and agast:
Each noise she heares, each shadow she doth see,
She doth mistrust it should Renaldo be.
34
Like to a fawne, or kid of bearded goate,
That in the wood a tyger fierce espide,
To kill her dam, and first to teare the throate,
And then to feed upon the hanch or side,
Both feare lest she might light on such a lot,
And seeke it selfe in thickest brackes to hide,
And thinkes each noise the wind or aire doth cause,
It selfe in danger of the tygers clawes.
35
That day and night she wandred here and there,
And halfe the other day that did ensue,
Untill at last she was arrived where
A fine yong grove with pleasant shadow grew,
Neare to the which two little rivers were,
Whose moisture did the tender herbes renew,
And make a sweete and very pleasing sound,
By running on the sand and stonie ground.
36
Here she at last her selfe in safetie thought,
As being from Renaldo many a mile,
Tyrd with annoy the heate and travell brought,
She thinkes it best with sleepe the time beguile,
And having first a place convenient sought,
She lets her horse refresh his limbes the while,
Who fed upon the bankes well clothd with grasse,
And dranke the river water cleere as glasse.
37
Hard by the brooke an arbor she descride,
Wherein grew faire and very fragrant floures,
With roses sweet, and other trees beside,
Wherewith the place adornes the native boures,
So fenced in with shades on either side,
Safe from the heate of late or early houres,
The boughes and leaves so cunningly were mixt,
No sunne, no light, could enter them betwixt .
38
Within, the tender herbes a bed do make,
Inviting folke to take their rest and ease:
Here meanes this Ladie faire a nap to take,
And fals to sleepe, the place so well doth please.
Not long she lay, but her a noise did wake,
The trampling of a horse did her disease,
And looking out as secret as she might,
To come all armd she saw a comely Knight.
39
She knowes not yet if he be foe or friend,
Twixt hope and feare she doubtfully doth stand,
And what he meanes to do she doth attend,
And who it was she faine would understand.
The Knight did to the river side descend,
And resting downe his head upon his hand,
All in a muse he sitteth still alone,
Like one transformd into a marble stone.
40
He tarrid in this muse an houre and more,
With looke cast downe in sad and heavie guise,
At last he did lament his hap so sore,
Yet in so sweete and comely mournefull wise,
So hard a heart no tyger ever bore,
But would have heard such plaints with warrish eies.
His heart did seeme a mountaine full of flame,
His cheekes a streame of teares to quench the same.
41
Alas (said he) what meanes this divers passion?
I burne as fire, and yet as frost I freese,
I still lament, and yet I move compassion,
I come too late, and all my labour leese.
I had but words and lookes for shew and fashion,
But others get the game, and gainefull fees:
If neither fruite nor floure come to my part,
Why should her love consume my carefull hart?
42
Like to the rose I count the virgine pure,
That growth on native stem in garden faire,
Which while it stands with wals environd sure,
Where heardmen with their heards cannot repaire
To favor it, it seemeth to allure
The morning deaw, the heate, the earth, the aire.
Yong gallant men, and lovely dames delight
In their sweet sent, and in their pleasing sight.
43
But when at once tis gathered and gone,
From proper stalke, where late before it grew,
The love, the liking little is or none,
Both favour, grace and beautie all adew.
So when a virgin grants to one alone
The precious floure for which so many sew,
Well he that getteth it may love her best,
But she forgoes the love of all the rest.
44
She may deserve his love, but others hate,
To whom of love she shewd her selfe so scant,
(Oh then my cruell fortune or my fate)
Others have store, but I am starvd with want:
Then leave to love this ladie so ungrate:
Nay live to love (behold I soone recant)
Yea first let life from these my limbs be rent,
Ere I to change my love shall give consent.
45
If some perhaps desirous are to know,
What wight it was with sorrow so opprest,
Twas Sacrapant that was afflicted so,
And love had bred this torment in his brest:
That trickling wound, that flattring cruell foe,
Most happie they that know and have it least.
The love of her I say procurd his woe,
And she had heard and knew it long ago.
46
Her love allurd him from the Easterne land,
Unto the Westerne shores, where sets the Sunne,
And here he heard how by Orlandos hand,
A passage safe from thIndies she had wonne.
Her sequestration he did understand,
That Charles had made, and how the same was done
To make the Knights more venterous and bold,
In fighting for the Floure de luce of gold.
47
And furthermore himselfe had present bene
When Charles his men were overthrowne and slaine
Since then, he traveld farre to find this Queene,
But hitherto it hath bene all in vaine.
Now much despaire, and little hope betweene,
So rufully thereof he doth complaine,
And with such wailing words his woes rehearst,
As might the hardest stonie heart have pearst.
48
And while in this most dolefull state he bides,
And sighes full oft, and sheddeth many a teare,
And speakes these same, and many words besides,
(Which I to tell for want of time forbeare)
His noble fortune so for him provides,
That all this came unto his mistresse eare,
And in one moment he prevailed more
Then he had done in many yeares before.
49
Angelica with great attention hard,
The mone, and plaint, that him tormented sore,
Who long had loved her, with great regard,
As she had triall, many yeares before,
Yet as a marble pillar cold and hard,
She not inclines to pittie him the more.
Like one that all the world doth much disdaine,
And deemeth none worthie her love againe.
50
But being now with danger compast round,
She thought it best to take him for her guide,
For one that were in water almost drownd,
Were very stout, if for no helpe he cride:
If she let passe the fortune now she found,
She thinkes to want the like another tyde.
And furthermore for certaine this she knew,
That Sacrapant had beene her lover true.
51
Ne meant she tho to quench the raging fires,
That ay consumd his faithfull loving heart,
Ne yet with that a lover most desires,
Tasswage the paine in all, or yet in part:
She meanes he first shall pull her from the briers,
And feed him then with words and womens art,
To make him first of all to serve her turne,
That done, to wonted coynesse to returne.
52
Unto the river side she doth descend,
And toward him most goddesse like she came,
And said, all peace to thee my dearest friend,
With modest looke, and cald him by his name,
And further said, the Gods and you defend
My chastity, mine honour and my fame,
And never grant by their divine permission,
That I give cause of any such suspition.
53
With how great joy a mothers minde is fild,
To see a sonne, for whom she long had mourned,
Whom she heard late in battell to be kild,
And saw the troopes without him home returned,
Such joy had Sacrapant when he behild,
His Ladie deere: his teares to smiles are turned,
To see her beautie rare, her comely favour,
Her princely presence, and her stately havour.
54
Like one all ravisht with her heavenly face,
Unto his loved Ladie he doth runne,
Who was content in armes him to embrace,
Which she perhaps at home would not have done,
But doubting now the dangerous time and place,
She must go forward as she hath begun,
In hope by his good service and assistance,
To make her home returne without resistance.
55
And in most lovly manner she doth tell,
The strange adventures, and the divers chance,
That since they two did part to her befell,
Both on the way, and since she came to France:
And how Orlando used her right well,
Defending her from danger and mischance,
And that his noble force and magnanimitie,
Had still preservd the floure of her virginity.
56
It might be true, but sure it was incredible,
To tell to one that were discreet and wise,
But unto Sacrapant it seemed possible,
Because that love had dasled so his eyes:
Love causeth what is seene, to seeme invisible,
And makes of things not seene, a shape to rise.
It is a proverbe used long ago,
We soone beleeve the thing we would have so.
57
But to himselfe thus Sacrapant doth say,
Bit that my Lord of Anglant were so mad,
To take no pleasure of so faire a pray,
When he both time and place, and power had,
Yet am not I obliged any way,
To imitate a president so bad,
Ile rather take my pleasure while I may,
Then waile my want of wit another day.
58
Ile gather now the fresh and fragrant rose,
Whose beautie may with standing still be spent,
One cannot do a thing (as I suppose)
That better can a womans mind content:
Well may they seeme much grieved for a glose,
And weepe and waile, and dolefully lament,
There shall no foolish plaints, nor fained ire,
Hinder me to encarnat my desire.
59
This said, forthwith he did himselfe prepare,
Tassault the fort that easly would be wonne,
But loe a sodaine hap that bred new care,
And made him cease his enterprise begonne,
For of an enemy he was aware,
He claspt his helmet late before undone,
And armed all, he mounteth one his beast,
And standeth ready with his speare in rest.
60
Behold a warrior whom he did not know,
Came downe the wood in semblance like a Knight,
The furniture was all as white as snow,
And in the helme a plume of fethers white.
King Sacrapant by proofe doth plainely show,
That he doth take the thing in great despite,
To be disturbd and hindred from that pleasure,
That he preferd before all other treasure.
61
Approching nie, the warrior he defide,
And hopes to set him quite beside the seat:
The other with such loftie words replide,
As persons use, in choler and in heat.
At last when glorious vaunts were laid aside,
They come to strokes and each to do his feat,
Doth couch his speare, and running thus they sped,
Their coursers both encountred hed to hed.
62
As Lions meete, or Buls in pastures greene,
With teeth & hornes, & staine with bloud the field,
Such eger fight these warriers was betweene,
And eithers speare had pearst the tothers sheild,
The sound that of these strokes had raised beene,
An eccho lowd along the vale did yeeld.
Twas happie that their curats were so good,
The Lances else had pierced to the blood.
63
For quite unable now about to wheele,
They butt like rammes, the one the others head,
Whereof the Pagans horse such paine did feele,
That ere long space had past he fell down dead.
The tothers horse a little gan to reele,
But being spurd, full quickly up he sped.
The Pagans horse thus overthrowne and slaine,
Fell backward greatly to his masters paine.
64
That unknowne champion seeing thother downe,
His horse upon him lying dead in vew,
Expecting in this fight no more renowne,
Determind not the battell to renew.
But by the way that leadeth from the towne,
The first appointed journey doth pursew,
And was now ridden halfe a mile at least,
Before the Pagan parted from his beast.
65
Like as the tiller of the fruitfull ground,
With sodaine storme and tempest is astonishd
Who sees the flash, and heares the thunders sound,
And for their masters sakes, the cattell punishd,
Or when by hap a faire old pine he found,
By force of raging winds his leaves diminishd,
So stood amazd the Pagan in the place,
His Ladie present at the wofull case.
66
He fetcht a sigh most deepely from his heart,
Not that he had put out of joynt, or lamed
His arme, his legge, or any other part,
But chiefly he his evill fortune blamed,
At such a time, to hap so overthwart,
Before his love, to make him so ashamed:
And had not she some cause of speech found out,
He had remained speechlesse out of doubt.
67
My Lord (said she) what ailes you be so sad?
The want was not in you, but in your steed,
For whom a stable, or a pasture had
Beene fitter then a course at tilt indeed.
Nor is that adverse partie very glad,
As well appeares, that paried with such speed,
For in my judgement they be said to yeeld,
That first leave off, and do depart the feeld.
68
Thus while she gives him comfort all she may,
Behold there came a messenger in post,
Blowing his horne, and riding downe the way,
Where he before his horse, and honor lost,
And comming nearer he of them doth pray,
To tell if they had seene passe by that cost,
A champion armd at all points like a Knight,
The shield, the horse, and armour all of white.
69
I have both seene the Knight, and felt his force,
(Said Sacrapant) for here before you came,
He cast me downe and also kild my horse,
Ne know I (that doth greeve me most) his name.
Sir (quoth the post) the name I will not force,
To tell, sith you desire to know the same,
First, know that you were conquerd in this fight,
By valour of a damsell faire and bright.
70
Of passing strength, but of more passing hew,
And Bradamant, this damsell faire is named,
She was the wight, whose meeting you may rew,
And all your life hereafter be ashamed.
This said, he turnd his horse and bad adew.
But Sacrapant with high disdaine enflamed,
Was first so wroth, and then so shamd thereto,
He knew not what to say, nor what to do.
71
And after he had staid a while and musd,
That at a womans hands he had received
Such a disgrace as could not be excusd,
Nor how he might revenge it he perceived,
With thought hereof his mind was so confusd,
He stood like one of wit and sense bereaved.
At last he goth, a better place to finde,
He takes her horse and makes her mount behind.
72
Now having rode a mile, or thereabout,
They heard a noise, a trampling on the ground,
They thought it was some company or rout,
That caused in the woods so great a sound:
At last they see a warlike horse, and stout,
With guilded barb, that cost full many a pound,
No hedge, no ditch, no wood, no water was,
That stopped him where he was bent to passe.
73
Angelica casting her eye aside:
Except (said she) mine eies all dazled be,
I have that famous horse Bayardo spide,
Come trotting downe the wood, as seemes to me:
(How well for us our fortune doth provide)
It is the very same, I know tis he:
On one poore nag to ride we two were loth,
And here he commeth fit to serve us both.
74
King Sacrapant alighted by and by,
And thinkes to take him gently by the raine,
But with his heeles the horse doth streight reply,
As who should say, his rule he did disdaine.
It happie was he stood the beast not nye,
For it he had, it had beene to his paine,
For why, such force the horse had in his heele,
He would have burst a mountaine all of steele.
75
But to the damsell gently he doth go,
In humble manner, and in lowly sort,
A spaniell after absence fauneth so,
And seekes to make his master play, and sport,
For Bayard cald to mind the damsell tho,
When she unto Albracca did resort,
And usd to feed him for his masters sake,
Whom she then lovd, and he did her forsake.
76
She takes the bridle boldly in her hand,
And strokt his brest, and necke, with art and skill:
The horse that had great wit to understand,
Like to a lambe, by her he standeth still,
And while Bayardo gently there did stand,
The Pagan got him up, and had his will.
And she that erst to ride behind was faine,
Into her saddle mounted now againe.
77
And being newly setled in her seate,
She saw a man on foote all armed runne,
Straight in her mind she gan to chafe and fret,
Because she knew it was Duke Ammons sonne,
Most earnestly he sude her love to get,
More earnestly she seekes his love to shunne.
Once she lovd him, he hated her as much,
And now he loves, she hates, his hap was such.
78
The cause of this first from two fountaines grew,
Like in the tast, but in effects unlike,
Placd in Ardenna, each in others vew,
Who tasts the one, loves dart his heart doth strike,
Contrary of the other doth ensew,
Who drinke thereof, their lovers shall mislike.
Renaldo dranke of one, and love him pained,
Shee drunke the other and his love disdained.
79
The liquor thus with secret venim mingled,
Makes her to stand so stiffely in the nay,
On whom Renaldos heart was wholy kindled,
Though scarce to looke on him she can away,
But from his sight desiring to be singled,
With soft low voice the Pagan she doth pray,
That he approch no nearer to this Knight,
But flie away with all the speed he might.
80
Why then (quoth he) make you so small esteeme,
Of me, as though that I to him should yeeld?
So weake and faint my forces do you deeme,
That safe from him your selfe I cannot shield?
Then you forget Albracca it should seeme,
And that same night, when I amid the field,
Alone unarmed did defend you then,
Against King Agrican and all his men.
81
No sir, said she (ne knowes she what to say)
Because Renaldo now approcht so nie,
And threatned so the Pagan in the way,
When under him his horse he did espie,
And saw the damsell taken as a pray,
In whose defence he meanes to live and die.
But what fell out betweene these warriers fearce,
Within the second booke I do rehearse.
ARGUMENT
THE SECOND BOOKE OF
ORLANDO FURIOSO
A Frire betweene two rivals parts the fray,
By magicke art: Renaldo hasteth home,
But in embassage he is sent away,
When tempest makes the sea to rage and fome.
Bradamant seekes her spouse, but by the way,
While she about the country wyld did rome,
Met Pinnabel, who by a craftie traine,
Both sought, and thought the Ladie to have slaine.
SECOND BOOKE
1
O Blind god Love, why takst thou such delight,
With darts of divers force our hearts to wound?
By thy too much abusing of thy might,
This discord great in humane hearts is found.
When I would wade the shallow foord aright,
Thou drawst me to the deepe to have me dround,
From those love me, my love thou dost recall,
And place it where I find no love at all.
2
Thou makst most faire unto Renaldo seeme
Angelica, that takes him for a foe,
And when that she of him did well esteeme,
Then he dislikt, and did refuse her thoe.
Which makes her now of him the lesse to deeme.
Thus (as they say) she renders quit pro quo.
She hateth him, and doth detest him so,
She first will die, ere she will with him go.
3
Renaldo (full of stately courage) cride,
Downe theefe from of my horse, downe by and by,
So robd to be I never can abide,
But they that do it dearely shall abye,
Also this Ladie you must leave beside,
Else one of us in her defence will dye
A horse so good, and such a goodly dame,
To leave unto a theefe it were a shame.
4
What? me a theefe? thou in thy throat dost lye,
(Quoth Sacrapant, that was as hot as he)
Theefe to thy selfe, thy malice I defie,
For as I heare, the name is due to thee:
But if thou dare thy might and manhood trie,
Come take this Ladie, or this horse from me.
Though I allow in this of thine opinion,
That of the world she is the matchlesse minion.
5
Like as two mastive dogges with hungrie mawes,
Movd first to hate, from hate to raging ire,
Approch with grinning teeth, and griesly jaws,
With staring eyes, as red as flaming fire,
At last they bite, and scratch with teeth and claws,
And teare themselves, and tumble in the mire.
So after byting and reprochfull words,
Did these two worthy warriers draw their swords.
6
One was on foote, the tother on a horse,
You thinke perhaps, the horseman vantage had,
No sure, no whit; he would have wisht to skorce,
For why at last to light he must be glad,
The beast did know thus much by natures force,
To hurt his master were a service bad.
The pagan could not nor with spur nor hand,
Make him unto his mind to go or stand.
7
He stops, when he should make a full careire,
He runnes or trots, when he would have him rest,
At last to throw his rider in the mire,
He plungeth with his head beneath his breast.
But Sacrapant that now had small desire,
At such a time, to tame so proud a beast,
Did worke so well at last by sleight and force,
On his left side, he lighted from his horse.
8
When from Bayardos over furious might,
The Pagan had himselfe discharged so,
With naked swords there was a noble fight,
Sometimes they lye aloft, sometimes aloe,
And from their blowes the fire flies out in fight:
I thinke that Vulcans hammers beat more slow,
Where he within the mountaine AEtnas chaps,
Doth forge for love, the fearfull thunderclaps.
9
Sometimes they profer, then they pause a while,
Sometime strike out, like masters of the play,
Now stand upright, now stoup another while,
Now open lye, then cover all they may.
Now ward, then with a slip the blow beguile:
Now forward step, now backe a little way:
Now round about, and where the tone gives place,
There still the other presseth in his place.
10
Renaldo did the Pagan Prince invade,
And strike at once with all the might he cowd,
The other doth oppose against the blade,
A shield of bone and steele of temper good.
But through the same a way Fusberta made,
And of the blow resounded all the wood:
The steele, the bone like yse in peeces broke,
And left his arme benummed with the stroke.
11
Which when the faire and fearfull damsell saw,
And how great damage did ensue thereby,
She looked pale, for anguish and for aw,
Like those by doome that are condemnd to dye:
She thinks it best her selfe from hence withdraw,
Else will Renaldo take her by and by,
The same Renaldo whom she hateth so,
Though love of her procured all his wo.
12
Unto the wood she turnes her horse in hast,
And takes a little narrow path and blind;
Her fearfull looks ofttimes she backe doth cast,
Still doubting lest Renaldo came behind:
And when that she a little way had past,
Alow the vale a Hermit she did find:
A weake old man, with beard along his brest,
In shew devout, and holier then the rest.
13
He seemd like one with fasts and age consumed,
He rode upon a slouthfull going asse,
And by his looke, a man would have presumed,
That of his conscience scrupulous he was.
Yet her young face, his old sight so illumed,
When as he saw the damsell by to pass:
(Though weake and faint, as such an age behoved)
That charitie his courage somewhat moved.
14
The damsell of the Hermit askt the way,
That might unto some havn town lead most neare,
That she might part from France without delay,
Where once Renaldos name she might not heare.
The frier that could enchaunt, doth all he may,
To comfort her, and make her of good cheare,
And to her safetie promising to looke,
Out of his bag forthwith he drew a booke.
15
A booke of skill and learning so profound,
That of a lease he had not made an end,
But that there rose a sprite from under ground,
Whom like a page he doth of arrants lead.
This sprite by words of secret vertue bound,
Goes where these Knights their combat did intend:
And while they two were fighting very hard,
He enters them betweene without regard.
16
Good sirs (quoth he) for courtsie sake me show,
When one of you the tother shall have slaine,
And after all the travell you bestow,
What guerdon you expect for all your paine,
Behold, Orlando striking nere a blow,
Nor breaking staffe, while you strive here in vaine,
To Paris ward the Ladie faire doth carie,
While you on fighting undiscreetly tarie.
17
I saw from hence a mile, or thereabout,
Orlando with Angelica alone,
And as for you, they jest and make a flout,
That fight where praise and profit can be none.
Twer best you quickly went to seeke them out,
Before that any farther they be gone,
Within the walls of Paris if they get,
Your eye on her againe you shall not set.
18
When as the Knights this message had received,
They both remaind amazed, dumbe and sad,
To heare Orlando had them so deceived,
Of whom before great jealousie they had;
But good Renaldo so great griefe conceived,
That for the time, like one all raging made,
He sware without regard of God or man,
That he will kill Orlando if he can.
19
And seeing where his horse stood still untide,
He thither goes: such hast he makes away,
He offers not the Pagan leave to ride,
Nor at the parting once adjeu doth say.
Now Bayard felt his masters spurres in side,
And gallops maine, ne maketh any stay.
No rivers, rocks, no hedge, nor ditches wide,
Could stay his course, or make him step aside.
20
Nor marvell if Renaldo made some hast,
To mount againe upon his horses backe,
You heard before how many dayes had past,
That by his absence he had felt great lacke,
The horse (that had of humane wit some tast,)
Ran not away for any jadish knacke,
His going only was to this intent,
To guide his master where the Ladie went.
21
The horse had spide her when she tooke her flight,
First from the tent, as he thereby did stand,
And followd her, and kept her long in sight,
As then by hap out of his masters hand.
(His master did not long before alight,
To combat with a Baron hand to hand)
The horse pursude the damsell all about,
And holpe his master still to find her out.
22
He followed her through valley, hill and plaine,
Through woods and thickets for his masters sake,
Whom he permitted not to touch the raine,
For feare lest he some other way should take,
By which Renaldo though with mickle paine
Twise found her out, twise she did him forsake:
For first Ferraw, then Sacrapant withstood,
That by twise finding her he did no good.
23
Bayardo trusting to the lying sprite,
Whose false (but likely) tale so late he hard,
And doubting not it was both true and right,
He doth his duty now with due regard.
Renaldo prickt with love and raging spite,
Doth pricke apace, and all to Paris ward,
To Paris ward he maketh so great shift,
The wind it selfe seemes not to go so swift.
24
Such hast he made Orlando out to find,
That scant he ceast to travell all the night,
So deeply stacke the storie in his mind,
That was of late devised by the sprite:
Betimes and late as first he had assignd,
He rode untill he saw the towne in sight:
Where Charles whose chance all christned hearts did rew,
With the small relikes of his powre withdrew.
25
And for he lookes to be assaulted then,
Or else besiegd, he useth all his care,
To store himselfe with victuall and with men.
The walls eke of the towne he doth repaire,
And take advice, both how, and where, and when,
For his defence each thing he may prepare.
An armie new to make he doth intend,
And for new souldiers into England send.
26
He minds to take the field againe ere long,
And trie the hap of warre another day,
And all in hast to make himselfe more strong,
He sends Renaldo Englands ayd to pray.
Renaldo thought the Emperour did him wrong,
To send him in such hast, and grant no stay.
Not that ill will to thIland he did carie,
But for another cause he faine would tarie.
27
Yet now although full sore against his mind,
As loth to leave the Ladie he so loved,
Whom he in Paris hoped had to find,
Because tobey his Prince it him behoved,
He taketh this embassage thus assignd,
And having straight all other lets removed,
He posted first to Callis with great hast,
And there embarkt ere halfe next day was past.
28
Against the mariners and masters minds,
(Such hast he made to have returned backe)
He takes the sea though swelling with great winds,
And threatning ruine manifest and wracke.
Fierce Boreas that himselfe despised finds,
Doth beate on seas with tempest foule and blacke,
By force whereof the waves were raisd so hie,
The very tops were sprinkled all thereby.
29
The mariners take in their greater saile,
And by the wind they lie, but all in vaine,
Then backe againe they bend without availe,
Now they are out, they cannot in againe.
No (said the wind) my force shall so prevaile,
Your bold attempts shall put you to some paine.
It was a folly any more to strive,
Needs must they follow as the wind did drive.
30
In the foreship sometimes the blast doth blow,
Straight in the poope, the seas breake to the skies.
Needs must they beare a saile, though very low,
To void the waves that higher still did rise:
But sith my web so diverse now doth grow,
To weave with many threds I must devise,
I leave Renaldo in this dangerous place,
And of his sister speake a little space.
31
I meane the noble damsell Bradamant,
Of Ammon daughter, and dame Beatrice,
In whose rare mind no noble part did want,
So full of value, and so void of vice,
King Charles and France of her might rightly vaunt,
So chast, so faire, so faithfull and so wise,
And in the feates of armes of so great fame,
A man might guesse by that of whence she came.
32
There was a Knight enamourd on this dame,
That out of Affricke came with Agramant,
Rogero hight, so was his fathers name,
(His mother was the child of Agolant)
The damsell that of worthy linage came,
And had a heart not made of adamant,
Disdained not the love of such a Knight,
Although he had but seeld bene in her sight.
33
Long travell and great paine she had endured,
And rid alone her lover to have found,
Ne would she thinke her saftie more assured,
If with an armie she were garded round.
You heard before how she by force procured
King Sacrapant to fall and kisse the ground,
The wood she past, and after that the mountaine,
Untill at last she saw a goodly fountaine.
34
A goodly fountaine running in a field,
All full of trees, whose leaves do never fade,
Which did to passengers great pleasure yeeld,
The running streame so sweete a murmur made,
Upon the South, a hill the Sunne did shield,
The ground gave floures, the grove a gratefull shade.
Now here the dame casting her eye aside,
A man at armes fast by the brooke descride.
35
A man at armes she spyed by the brooke,
Whose banks with flowers of divers hew were clad,
Of which sweet place he so small pleasure tooke,
His face did shew his heart was nothing glad,
His targe and helmet were not farre to looke,
Upon a tree where tide his horse he had:
His eyes were swolne with tears, his mind oppressed
With bitter thoughts that had his heart distressed.
36
The damsell faire enticd by deepe desire,
That all (but chiefly women) have to know,
All strangers states, doth earnestly require
The dolefull Knight his inward griefe to show.
Who marking well her manner and attire,
Her courteous speech with him prevailed so,
He tels his state, esteeming by the sight,
That needs she must have bene some noble Knight.
37
Good sir (said he) you first must understand,
I served Charles against the King of Spaine,
I horsemen had and footmen in my band,
In ambush placd the Spanish King thave slaine:
I brought the fairest Ladie in this land,
And my best loved with me in my traine,
When sodainly ere I thereof was ware,
There came a horseman that procurd my care.
38
Perhap a man, or some infernall sprite,
In humane shape, I cannot certaine say,
But this I say, he tooke the damsell bright,
Even as a faulcon seaseth on his pray,
So he my loving Ladie did affright,
And so affrighted bare her quite away.
And when I thought to rescue her by force,
Aloft in aire he mounted with his horse.
39
Even as a ravnous kite that doth espie
A little chicken wandring from the other,
Doth catch him straight, and carries him on hie,
That now repents he was not with his mother.
What could I do? my horse wants wings to flie,
Scant could he set one leg before the tother,
He traveld had before so many dayes,
Among the painfull hils and stonie wayes.
40
But like to one that were his wit beside,
I leave my men to do my first intent,
Not caring of my selfe what should betide,
(So strongly to my fancie was I bent)
And tooke the blind god Cupid for my guide,
By wayes as blind to seeke my love I went.
And though my sense, my guide, my way were blind,
Yet on I go in hope my love to find.
41
A senight space abating but a day,
About the woods and mountaines I did range,
In savage deserts wilde and void of way,
Where humane steps were rare and very strange.
Fast by the desert place a plaine there lay,
That shewed from the rest but little change,
Save onely that a castle full of wonder
Did stand in rockes that had bene clovn asunder.
42
This castle shines like flaming fire a farre,
Not made of lime and stone as ours are here:
And still as I approcht a little narre,
More wonderfull the building doth appeare.
It is a fort impregnable by warre,
Compacted all of mettall shining cleare.
The fiends of hell this fort of steele did make,
Of metall tempred in the Stigian lake.
43
The towres are all of steele, and polisht bright,
There is on them no spot or any rust,
It shines by day, by darke it giveth light,
Here dwels this robber wicked and unjust,
And what he gets against all lawes and right,
The lawlesse wretch abuseth here by lust,
And here he keepes my faire and faithfull lover,
Without all hope that I may her recover.
44
Ah wo was me, in vaine I sought to helpe,
I see the place that keepes that I love best,
Even as a foxe that crying heares her whelpe,
Now borne aloft into the Eagles nest,
About the tree she goes, and faine would helpe,
But is constraind for want of wings to rest.
The rocke so steepe, the castle is so hie,
None can get in except they learne to flie.
45
And as I tarrid in the plaine, behold
I saw two Knights come riding downe the plaine,
Led by desire and hope to win this hold,
But their desire and hope was all in vaine.
Gradasso was the first of courage bold,
A King of Serican that held the raine,
Rogero next, a man of noble nation,
Of yeares but yong, but of great estimation.
46
A little dwarfe they had to be their guide,
Who told me that they came to trie their force
Against the champion that doth use to ride
Out of this castle on the winged horse.
Which when I heard, to them for helpe I cride,
And prayd them of my case to take remorse,
And that they would, if twere their chance to win,
Set free my love that there was locked in.
47
And all my griefe to them I did unfold,
Affirming with my teares my tale too true:
No sooner I my heavy hap had told,
But they were come within the castles vew,
I stood aloofe the battell to behold,
And praid to God good fortune might ensue.
Beneath the castle lies a little plaine,
Exceeding not an arrow shoore or twaine.
48
And as they talkt who first should fight or last,
They were arrived to the castle hill,
At length Gradasso (whether lots were cast,
Or that Rogero yeelded to his will)
Doth take his horne, and blew therewith a blast,
The noise whereof the castle wals did fill.
And straight with greater speed then can be guest,
Came out the rider of the flying beast.
49
And as we see strange cranes are wont to do,
First stalke a while, ere they their wings can find,
Then soare from ground not past a yard or two,
Till in their wings they gatherd have the wind,
At last they mount the very clouds unto,
Triangle wise, according to their kind:
So by degrees this Mage begins to flie,
The bird of Jove can hardly mount so hie.
50
And when he sees his time, and thinkes it best,
He falleth downe like lead in fearfull guise,
Even as the faulcon doth the fowle arrest,
The ducke and mallard from the brooke that rise,
So he descending with his speare in rest,
Doth pierce the aire in strange and monstrous wise,
And ere Gradasso were thereof admonishd,
He felt a stripe that made him halfe astonishd.
51
The Mage upon Gradasso brake his speare,
Who strikes in vaine upon the aire and wind,
Away he flue without or hurt or feare,
And leaves Gradasso many a pace behind.
This fierce encounter was so hard to beare,
That good Alfana to the ground inclind,
This same Alfana was Gradassos mare,
The fairst and best that ever saddle bare.
52
Aloft the starres the sorcrer doth ascend,
And wheeles about, and downe he comes againe,
And on Rogero hee his force doth bend,
That had compassion on Gradassos paine:
So sore thassault Rogero did offend,
His horse the force thereof could not sustaine,
And when to strike againe he made account,
He saw his foe up to the clouds to mount.
53
Sometimes the Mage Rogero doth assaile,
Straight way Gradasso he doth set upon,
And oft they strike againe without availe,
So quickly he at whom they strike is gone,
He winds about as ships do under saile,
His sailes are wings, and rest he gives them none,
But sets upon them in so sudden wise,
That he amazd and dazeld both their eyes.
54
Betweene this one aloft, and two alow,
This conflict did no little space endure,
Untill at last the night began to grow,
With mistie clouds making the world obscure:
I saw this fight, the truth thereof I know
I present was thereat, yet am I sure,
That very few (except the wiser sort)
Will credence give to such a strange report.
55
This heavenly hellish warriour bare a shield
On his left arme that had a silken case,
I cannot any cause or reason yeeld,
Why he would keepe it coverd so long space:
It had such force, that who so it beheld,
Such shining light it striketh in their face,
That downe they fall with eyes and senses closed,
And leave their corps of him to be disposed.
56
The target like the carbuncle doth shine,
Such light was never seene with mortall eye,
It makes to ground the lookers on decline,
Be they farre off, or be they standing nie:
And as it closd their sight, it closed mine,
That in a trance no little space was I.
At last when I awakt and rose againe,
The aire was darke, and voided was the plaine.
57
The sorcerer hath tane them (I surmise)
Into his castle, as is likely most,
And by this light that dazeld all our eies,
My hope is gone, their liberty is lost:
This is the truth, ne do I ought devise,
You heare the same, I felt it to my cost.
Now judge if I have reason to complaine,
That have and do endure such endlesse paine.
58
When as this Knight his dolefull tale had done,
He sate him downe all chearlesse in the place,
This was Earle Pinnabel Anselmus sonne,
Borne in Maganza of that wicked race,
Who like the rest so lewd a course did runne,
He holpe the more his linage to deface:
For onely vertue noblenesse doth dignifie,
And vicious life a linage base doth signifie.
59
The Ladie faire attentive all this while,
Doth hearken unto this Maganzese tale,
Rogeros name sometime doth make her smile,
Sometime againe for feare she looketh pale:
But hearing how a sorcerer base and vile,
Should in a castle so detaine him thrall,
She pitied him, and in her mind she fretted,
And oft desird to heare the tale repeated.
60
When at the last the whole she understood,
She said, sir Knight mourne not, but take some pleasure,
Perhaps our meeting may be to your good,
And turne your enemie unto displeasure:
Shew me this fort, for why it frets my blood,
So foule a prison holds so faire a treasure
And if good fortune favour mine intent,
You will right well suppose your travell spent.
61
Ah (said the Knight) should I returne againe,
To passe these mountaines hard and overtwhart?
Though for my selfe it is but little paine,
To toile my bodie having lost my hart:
For you to go where as you may be slaine,
Or taken prisner were a foolish part:
Which if it hap, yet me you cannot blame,
Because I give you warning of the same.
62
This said, he riseth up his horse to take,
The noble Ladie on the way to guide,
Who meanes to venter for Rogeros sake,
Or death or thraldome, or what ere betide,
But loe a messenger great hast doth make,
That comes behind, and (tarry ho) he cride,
This was the post that told to Sacrapant,
How she that foyld him was Dame Bradamant.
63
This messenger brought tidings in great post,
Both from Narbona and from Mompeleere,
How they were up in armes along the cost
Of Aquamort, and all that dwelled neere,
And how Marfilias men their hearts had lost,
Because of her no tidings they could heare:
And (for her absence made them ill apayd)
They sent to have her presence and her ayd.
64
These townes and others many to the same,
Betweene the streames of Rodon and of Vare,
The Empror had assignd this worthy dame,
Committing them unto her trust and care.
Her noble value gat her all this fame,
Because in armes herselfe she bravely bare,
And so the cities under her subjection,
This message sent, requiring her direction.
65
Which when she heard, it made her somewhat pause,
Twixt yea and no she stood a pretie space,
Of one side honor and her office drawes,
On thother side love helpes to pleade the case,
At last she meanes tensue the present cause,
And fetch Rogero from thinchanted place:
And if her force cannot to this attaine,
At least with him a prisner to remaine.
66
In curteous sort her answer she contrived,
With gracious words, and sent away the post,
She longs with her new guide to have arrived,
To that same place where both their loves were lost.
But he perceiving now she was derived,
From Clarimont that he detested most,
Doth hate her sore, and feareth to the same,
Lest she should know he of Maganza came.
67
There was betweene these houses auncient hate;
This of Maganza, that of Clarimount,
And each of them had weakned others state,
By killing men in both of great account.
This Pinnabel (a vile and wicked mate,
That all his kin in vices did surmount)
Meanes with himselfe this damsell to betray,
Or else to slip aside and go his way.
68
And this same fancie so his head did fill,
With hate, with feare, with anger and with doubt,
That he mistooke the way against his will,
And knew not how againe to find it out,
Till in the wood he saw a little hill,
Bare on the top, where men might looke about,
But Bradamant such amorous passions feeles,
She followeth like a spannell at his heeles.
69
The craftie guide thus wandring in the wood,
Intending now the Ladie to beguile,
Said unto her forsooth he thought it good,
Sith night grew on, themselves to rest a while:
Here is, quoth he (and shewd which way it stood)
A castle faire, and hence not many a mile:
But tarry you a little here untill
I may descrie the countrey from the hill.
70
This said, he mounted to the higher ground,
And standing now the highest part upon,
He cast about his eyes and looked round,
To find some path whereby he might be gone.
When unawares a monstrous cave he found,
And strange cut out and hollowd in the stone,
Deepe thirtie cubits downe it doth descend,
Having a faire large gate at lower end.
71
Such as great stately houses wont to have,
Out of which gate proceeds a shining light,
That all within most lightsome makes the cave,
And all this while on this felonious Knight
This noble Ladie due attendance gave,
And never suffred him go out of sight.
She followd Pinnabel hard at his backe,
Because she was afeard to leefe the tracke.
72
When as this villaine traitor did espie,
That his designements foolish were and vaine,
Either to leave her, or to make her die,
He thought it best to trie a further traine,
Perswading her for to descend and trie,
What Ladies faire within the cave remaine,
For why (said he) within this little space
I saw a goodly damsell in the place.
73
Both rich arayd and very faire of hew,
Like one of noble linage and degree,
And this her fortune made me more to rew,
That here against her will she seemd to be.
And when I thought for to descend and vew,
The cause of this her griefe to know and see,
I was no sooner from my horse alighted,
But with infernall hags I was afrighted.
74
The noble Bradamant that was more stout
Then warie, who it was did her perswade,
Hath such desire to helpe a damsell out,
That straight the cave she meaneth to invade,
She finds by hap a long bough thereabout,
Thereof a pole of mightie length she made,
First with her sword she hewes and pares it fit,
That done she lets it downe into the pit.
75
She giveth Pinnabel the bigger end,
And prayes him stand above and hold it fast,
And by the same intending to descend,
Upon her armes her whole waight she doth cast.
But he that to destroy her did intend,
Doth aske if she would learne to leape a cast,
And laughing, loosd his hands that were together,
And wisht that all the race of them were with her.
76
Yet great good hap the gentle damsell found,
As well deservd a mind so innocent:
For why the pole strake first upon the ground,
And though by force it shiverd all and rent,
Yet were her limbes and life kept safe and sound,
For all his vile and traiterous intent,
Sore was the damsell mazed with the fall,
As in another booke declare I shall
ARGUMENT
THE THIRD BOOK
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Faire Bradamant was falne in Merlins cave,
Melissa meetes her there her ancient friend,
And there to her she perfite notice gave,
Of such brave men as should from her descend.
She told her where she should Rogero have,
Whom old Atlanta had in prison pend,
And from Brunello how to take the ring,
That unto liberty her deere might bring.
THIRD BOOKE
1
Oh that my head were so well stord with skill,
Of such a noble subject fit to treat,
Oh that my wits were equall to my will,
To frame a phrase fit for so high conceat:
Ye Muses that do hold the sacred hill,
Inspire my heart with flame of learned heat,
While I presume in base and lowly verse,
The names of glorious Princes to reherse.
2
Such Princes as excell all Princes far,
In all the gifts of body and of mind,
Temprat in peace, victorious eke in war,
Themselves most noble, come of noble kind.
And such (except my guesse do greatly er)
As are by heavns eternall doome assignd,
In wealth, in fame, in rule and in prosperity,
To live themselves, their children and posterity.
3
Nor can I now their severall actes most rare,
Atcheevd by evry one of them recite,
No though my verse with Virgils might compare,
Or I as well as Homer could endite:
With their great praise, great vollumes filled are,
With large discourse, by them that stories write.
I onely meane to shew what was foreshowne,
Long ere their persons, or their deeds were knowne.
4
But first of Pinnabel a word to speake,
Who as you heard with traiterous intent,
The bonds of all humanity did break,
For which ere long himselfe was after shent.
Thus while base minds their wrongs do basly wreak,
They do that once that often they repent,
And curse that time, a thousand times, too late
When they pursude their unrevenged hate.
5
With fainting heart, (for sin is full of feare)
By stealing steps from hence he doth depart,
And as he goes he prieth here and there,
His fearefull looke bewraies his guilty hart,
Nor yet his dread doth move him to forbeare,
To heape more sin upon this ill desart.
Appald with feare, but toucht with no remorse,
Supposing she was slaine, he takes her horse.
6
But let him go untill another time,
For I do meane hereafter you shall heare,
How he was dealt with, when his double crime,
In secret wrought, most open did appeare.
Now unto Bradamant I bend my rime,
Who with her fall, was yet of heavy cheare:
And had beene taught a gamball for the nonce,
To give her death and buriall at once.
7
Now when she came unto her selfe againe,
And had recoverd memory and sence,
She gets her on her feet, although with paine,
In mind to seeke some way to get fro thence,
When loe, before her face she seeth plaine,
A stately portall built with great expence,
And next behind the same she might descrie,
A larger roome and fairer to the eie.
8
This was a Church most solemne and devout,
That stands on marble pillars small and round,
And raisd by art on arches all about,
That made each voyce to yeeld a double sound.
A lightsome lampe that never goeth out,
Did burne on altar standing in the ground:
That though the roomes were large and wide in space,
The lampe did serve to lighten all the place.
9
The noble damsell full of revrent feare,
When as her selfe in sacred place she sees,
(As one that still a godly minde did beare,)
Begins to pray to him upon her knees,
Whose holy side was perst with cruell speare,
And who to save our lives his owne did leese:
And while she stayes devoutly at her prayre,
The sage Melyssa doth to her repaire.
10
Her gowne ungyrt, her haire about her head,
Much like a priest or prophetesse arraid,
And in her booke a little while she red,
And after thus unto the damsell said:
O thou by Gods appointment hither led,
O Bradamant, most wise and worthy maid,
I long have looked here for this thy comming,
Foretold thereof by prophet Merlins cunning.
11
Here is the tombe that Merline erst did make,
By force of secret skill and hidden art,
In which sometimes the Ladie of the lake,
That with her beautie had bewitcht his hart,
Did make him enter fondly for her sake,
From whence he never after could depart,
And he was by a woman over reached,
That unto others prophesied and preached.
12
His carkas dead within this stone is bound,
But with dead corse the living soule doth dwell:
And shall untill it heare the trumpet sound,
That brings reward of doing ill or well.
His voice doth live and answer and expound,
And things both present past and future tell,
Resolving men of evrie doubtfull case,
That for his counsell come unto this place.
13
About a moneth or little more or lesse,
It is since I repaird to Merlins grave,
Of him about the studie I professe,
Some precepts and instructions to have.
And (for I willing was I must confesse)
To meete you at your comming to this cave:
For which he did prefixe this certaine day,
This moved me of purpose here to stay.
14
Duke Ammons daughter silent stands and still,
The while the wise Melyssa to her spake,
Astonished at this unusuall skill,
And doubting if she were asleepe or wake,
A modest shame with grace her eyes doth fill,
With which downe cast, this answer she doth make:
Alas what good or merite is in me
That prophets should my comming so foresee?
15
And glad of this adventure unexpected,
She followeth her guide with great delight,
And straight she saw the stately toombe erected,
Of marble pure that held his bones and sprite,
And (that which one would little have suspected)
The very marble was so cleare and bright,
That though the sunne no light unto it gave,
The tombe it selfe did lighten all the cave.
16
For whether be the nature of some stone,
A darkesome place with lightsomenes to fill,
Or were it done by magike art alone,
Or else by helpe of Mathematike skill,
To make transparencies to meete in one,
And so convey the sunnebeames where you will:
But sure it was most curious to behold,
Set forth with carved workes and guilt with gold.
17
Now when the damsell was approched nyre,
To this strange toombe where Merlins bones were plast,
Forth of the stones that shine like flaming fire,
His lively voyce such speeches out doth cast:
Let fortune ever favour thy desire,
O Bradamant thou noble maid and chast,
From out whose wombe an issue shall proceed,
That all the world in glorie shall exceed.
18
The noble blood that came of ancient Troy,
By two cleare springs in thee together mixt,
Shall breed the flowre, the jewell and the joy,
Of all on whom the sunne his beames hath fixt,
Twixt those that heat, and those that cold annoy,
From Tage to Inde, Danub and Nile betwixt,
Emprors and Kings, and Dukes and Lords for ay,
Of this thy linage carrie shall the sway.
19
And many a Captaine brave and worthy Knight,
Shall issue from this stocke, that shall restore
By warlike feates the glorie shining bright,
That Italy possessed heretofore.
And magistrates to maintaine peace and right,
As Numa and Augustus did before,
To cherish vertue, vice so to asswage,
As shall to us bring backe the golden age.
20
Wherefore sith God hath by predestination,
Appointed thee to be Rogeros wife,
And means to blesse thine heirs and generation,
With all the graces granted in this life,
Persist thou firme in thy determination,
And stoutly overcome each storme of strife,
And worke his worthy punishment and paine,
That doth thy lives delight from thee detaine.
21
This said: the prophet Merline holds his peace,
And gives Melissa time to worke her will,
Who when she did perceive the voice to cease,
She purposeth by practise of her skill,
To shew the damsell part of that increase,
That should with fame the world hereafter fill.
And for this purpose she did then assemble,
A troupe of sprights their persons to resemble.
22
Who straight by words of secret vertue bound,
In numbers great unto the cave repaire,
Of whence I know not, whether under ground,
Or else of those that wander in the aire:
Then thrise she drawes about a circle round,
And thrise she hallowes it with secret praire.
Then opens she a triple clasped booke,
And softly whispering in it she doth looke.
23
This done she takes the damsell by the hand
Exhorting her she should not be afraid,
And in a circle causeth her to stand,
And for her more securitie and aid,
And as it were for more assured band,
Upon her head some characters she laid.
Then having done her due and solemne rites,
She doth beginne to call upon the sprites.
24
Behold a crew of them come rushing in,
In sundrie shapes with persons great and tall,
And now they filled all the roome within,
So readily they came unto her call,
When Bradamant to feare did straight begin,
Her heart was cold, her colour waxed pall.
But yet the circle kept her like a wall,
So that she needed not to feare at all.
25
Howbeit Melyssa caused them be gone,
From thence unto the next adjoyning cave,
And thence to come before them one by one,
The better notice of their names to have,
That at more leysure they may talke thereon,
When as occasion so may seeme to crave
Although (quoth she) this short time cannot serve
To speake of evrie one as they deserve.
26
Lo here the first thy first begotten sonne,
That beares thy favour and his fathers name,
By whom the Lombards shall in fight be wonne,
To Defiderius their Kings great shame,
Who shall at Pontyr make the streames to runne,
With blood in fields adjoyning to the same,
And shall revenge the deeds and minds unpure,
Of such as did his fathers fall procure.
27
And for this noble act among the rest,
The Emperour shall give him in reward,
The honours great of Calaon and Est,
By which his family shall be prefard,
The next Uberto is whose valiant brest,
Shall be unto the church a gard,
Defending it with valiant heart and hand,
To thhonor of Hesperyan armes and land.
28
Alberto he is namd that third comes in,
Whose triumphs are most famous evrie where,
Then his sonne Hugo that did Millain winne,
And for his crest two vipers usd to beare,
Next Atso is and next to him of kinne,
That erst of Lombardie the crowne shall weare.
Then Albertasso by whose meanes are wonne,
The Beringers both father and the sonne.
29
To him shall Othons favour so encline,
He shall in marriage give to him his daughter.
Now Hugo comes againe, o happie line,
And happie man that savd so great a slaughter,
When at Christs vicars rule Rome did repine,
He daunteth them and so restord them after:
The which by wit without the dint of sword,
He shall effect in Othons time the third.
30
Now Fulko comes that to his brothers gave,
His land in Italy which was not small,
And dwelt in Almany his land to save
Of Samsony, that unto him did fall.
A Dukedome great that did with Castles brave,
Accrew to him for want of issue male.
By him that noble house is held and cherished,
That but for him would be extinct and perished.
31
Then commeth Atso that misliketh warre,
But yet his sonnes Bertold and Albertasse,
With second Henrie shall be still at jarre,
And bring the Dutchmen to a wofull passe.
Next young Renaldo shining like a starre,
Shall be unto the Church a wall of brasse,
And worke the utter overthrow and losse,
Of wicked Fredrike named Barbarosse.
32
Behold another Atso shall possesse,
Verona with a stately territorie,
Of Oton and Honorius no lesse,
Shall be a marquesse made to his great glory,
It would be long their names all to expresse,
That shall protect the sacred consistorie,
And in most valerous and marshall manner,
Display and eke defend the Churches banner.
33
Obyso next and Folko you may view,
With Henries two, the father and the sonne,
Both Guelfes that fruitfull Humbrya shall subdew,
And keepe the Dukedome there by conquest won.
Behold him that the good state doth renew,
Of Italy that late was quite undone.
Cald Atso fift that bravely overthrew,
The cruell Esselino and him slew.
34
That cruell Esselyno that was thought,
To have beene gotten by some wicked divell,
That never any goodnesse had beene taught,
But sold his soule to sinne and doing evill,
Comparing with the cruell acts he wrought,
Fierce Nero were but myld and Sylla civill.
Beside this Atso shall in time to come
The powre of second Fredrike overcome.
35
And then he shall his brother Albandrine,
Unto the Florentines for monie gage,
And Othon with the faction Gebellyne,
He shall suppresse amid the furious rage,
And raise the Church, nor letting it decline,
But spending to defend it all his age.
For which good service he shall justly merite,
The Dukedome of Ferrara to inherite.
36
Next him Renaldo now ensuth, whose lot,
Shall be at Naples to be made away,
A death his vertuous deeds deserved not,
But wo to them that guiltlesse blood betray.
Now followeth a worthy crue and knot,
Whose acts alone to tell would spend a day:
Obyso, Nicolas and Aldbrandine,
Whose noble deeds shall honour much their line.
37
Then Nicolas is he that next ensuth,
That ruld in tender yeares both neere and farre,
That findes and eke revengeth their untruth,
That sought his state by civill strife to marre.
The sports and exercises of his youth,
Are blowes and fights, and dangers great and warre.
Which makes that ere to manly state he came,
For martiall deeds he gets the onely name.
38
Lo Lyonell the glory of his age,
Maintaining peace and quiet all his time,
And keeping that with ease by wisedome sage,
To which some others by much paine do clime,
That fettred furie and rebuked rage,
That locks up Mars in wals of stone and lime:
That all his wit, his care and travell bent,
To make his subjects live in state content.
39
Now Hercles comes, an Hercules indeed,
Whose deeds shall merite ever during fame:
That by his paines his countries ease shall breed,
And put his enemies to flight and shame.
Sharpe to devise, to execute with speed,
Both stout tattempt, and patient to the same,
No Prince shall ever rule his countrie better,
No Prince had ever countrie more his detter.
40
Not onely that he shall their moorish grounds,
By great expence to pasture firme reduce,
Not that the towne with wall environ round,
And store with things behooffull to their use.
Not that when warre in ech place shall abound,
He shall mantaine them peaceable in truce,
Not that he shall according to their asking
Disburden them of payments and of tasking.
41
But that he shall more and above all these,
Leave them behind him such a worthy race,
As search within the circuit of the seas,
You shall not find two to supplie their place.
So shall the one the other strive to please,
So shall the one the others love imbrace,
As may for loving brotherly regard,
With Castor and with Pollux be compard.
42
The elder of these two Alfonso hight,
The next of them Hyppolito we call.
Both passing stout and valiant in fight,
Both passing wise and provident withall:
And both in due defence of countries right,
Shall seeme a bulwarke and a brazen wall:
They both shall have of enemies good store,
They both shall still subdue them evermore,
43
Their mother (if I may a mother name,)
One more like Progne and Medea fell,
Unto her endlesse infamie and shame,
Against her sonne Alfonso shall rebell,
And joyne with Venice force (for this to blame)
Though for the same ere long they paid full well,
For those they thought to hurt, they did this good,
To make the ground more fruitfull with their blood.
44
Not far fro thence the Spanish souldier hired,
By pastors purse and in that pastors pay,
That with a forcible assault aspired,
To take a fort, and eke the captaine slay.
But loe he comes and they perforce retyred,
And have so short a pleasure of this pray,
Scarse one of them in life is left abiding,
To carrie notice of so heavie tiding.
45
His wit and valour shall him so advance,
To have the honour of Romania field,
Where by his meanes unto the force of France,
The Pope and Spaniards, forced are to yeeld:
And there in Christian blood, o fatall chance,
Shall horses swimme, such number shall be keeld,
Nor shall not men enough alive remaine,
To burie those that are in battell slaine.
46
The while his brother under Cardnals cap,
Shall cover, nay shall shew a prudent head,
Hyppolito (I meane) who shall have hap,
With band of men but small (yet wisely led)
To give to the Venetians such a clap,
As few the like in stories have bene read.
To take three times five Gallies at one tide,
And barkes and boates a thousand more beside.
47
Behold two Sygismonds both wise and grave,
Alfonso next, whose fame is talkt of rife,
With his five sonnes, then Hercles that shall have
The King of France his daughter to his wife,
That towards him, her selfe shall so behave,
Shall make him live most happie all his life.
Hyppolito it is that now comes in,
Not least for praise and glorie of his kin.
48
Next Francis named third, Alfonsos two,
With many others worthy of renowne,
The which to name might finde one worke to do,
From Phoebus rising to his going downe.
Now therefore if you will consent thereto,
I here will end and send the spirits downe:
To this the worthy damsell said not nay,
And straight the spirits vanisht all away.
49
Then Bradamant, that all well marked had,
Of whom her selfe should be the ancient mother,
Did say, to learne she would be very glad,
What two those were that differed from the other,
That came with backward steps and lookt so sad,
Upon the good Alfonso and his brother.
Melyssa sighs, misliking that suggestion,
Which put it in her heart to ask this question.
50
And then as in a trance these words she spake,
O thou more worthy sonne of worthy sire,
They are thy bloud, on them compassion take,
Let grace asswage, though justice kindle ire:
Then unto Bradamant as new awake,
I must (said she) denie you this desire,
I say no more, content you with the sweet,
For you, this sower morsell is not meet.
51
To morrow when the Sunne at breake of day,
With light shall dim the light of evry starre:
I meane my selfe to guide you on your way,
So as I will be sure you shall not arre.
The place whereas your love is forcd to stay,
Is from the salt sea shore not very farre:
That were you past a mile beyond this wood,
The other way would easie be and good.
52
Of this nights stay the damsell was content,
And in the cave with her she doth remaine,
And most thereof in Merlins tombe she spent;
Whose voice with talke did her still entertaine:
Emboldning her to give her free consent,
To love where she should sure be lovd againe.
Now gan the messenger of day to cro,
When as her guide and she away did go.
53
The way they went was darke and unaccessible,
By secret vaults and hollowes of the hill,
To find it out had bene a thing impossible,
But with a guide of knowledge great and skill:
At last they came unto a path more passible,
By which they cease not to ascend, until
They quite had left the darke and lothsome place,
And saw the beames of Phoebus chearefull face.
54
And while that up this hill they slowly stalke,
With pausing panting oft, and taking wind,
To make lesse wearie seeme their wearie walke,
Melyssa still doth store of matter find,
And now of this, and then of that doth talke,
But chiefly she the damsell puts in mind,
Of her Rogero, how he had bene trained
Into the prison where he now remained.
55
Atlanta that Magician strange is he
That holdeth him (I trust) unto his cost,
But had you Pallas strength or Mars (quoth she)
And eke of armed men a mightie host,
Yet to attempt by force to set him free,
Your travell and your labour all were lost.
Art must be wonne by art, and not by might,
Force cannot free your welbeloved Knight.
56
For first the castle mounted is on hie,
Impregnable with wals all over steeld,
And next, the horse he rides hath wings to flie,
And gallops in the aire as in the field:
And last he dazleth evry mortall eie,
By hidden force of his enchanted shield,
With light whereof mens senses are so dazed,
With sight thereof they fall downe all amazed.
57
In all the world one onely meane hath beene,
And is yet still to worke so rare a feat,
A ring there is which from an Indian Queene,
Was stole sometime, of price and vertue great:
This ring can make a man to go unseene,
This ring can all inchantments quite defeat:
King Agramant hath sent his secretarie,
Unto Rogero this same ring to carie.
58
Brunello in his name that hath the ring,
Most leud and false, but politike and wise,
And put in trust especiall by his King,
With it Rogeros safetie to devise:
Which sith I wish not he, but you should bring,
To bind him to you by this enterprise,
And for I would not have the Turke protect him,
Because I know he greatly doth affect him.
59
Do therefore this, when you do meete this man,
Whose markes I wish in memory you beare,
His stature is two cubits and a span,
His head is long and gray, and thin of haire,
His nose is short and flat, his colour wan,
With beetle brow, eyes watrie not with teare,
His beard growes on his face without all stint,
And to conclude, his looke is all a squint.
60
Now when as you this comely man shall meet,
As sure you shall within a day or two,
You may with curteous words him seeme to greet,
And tell him partly what you meane to do,
But speake not of the ring although you seet,
For so you may the matter all undo,
Then he great courtesie to you will offer,
And straight his companie to you will proffer.
61
But when unto the castle you come nie,
Then see you set upon him on the way,
And take away the ring and make him die,
Nor give him any time, lest he convay
The ring into his mouth, and so thereby
Out of your sight he vanish quite away.
The worthy damsell markes her speeches well,
And so the one the other bids farewell.
62
Next day she hapt Brunello to espie,
She knew him straight, she found him at her Inne,
She growes to question with him by and by,
And he to lie doth by and by beginne,
And she dissembles too, and doth denie
Her countrey, stocke and name, and sex and kinne.
Brunello pleasantly doth talke and tipple,
Not knowing he did halt before a cripple.
63
Now when they almost broken had their fast,
She marking more his fingers then his eyes,
When much good talke between them two had past,
The most whereof were false and forged lies,
Behold mine host came unto them in hast,
And told them newes that made them sooner rise:
But here I meane to make a little pause,
Before I tell what was thereof the cause.
ARGUMENT
THE FOURTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Bradamant overcomes the false Magician,
And sets Rogero free, who by and by
Leapt on a horse not knowing his condition,
Who bare him quite from sight of any eye.
Renaldo sailed as he had commission,
To England ward, but borne by wind awrie,
At Callidon in Scotland he arrived,
When faire Geneuras foul death was contrived.
FOURTH BOOKE
1
Though he that useth craft and simulation,
Doth seldome bend his acts to honest ends,
But rather of an evill inclination,
His wit and skill to others mischiefe bends:
Yet sith in this our worldly habitation,
We do not ever dwell among our friends,
Dissembling doubtlesse oftentimes may save
Mens lives, their fame and goods, and all they have.
2
If man by long acquaintance and great proofe,
To trust some one man scant can be allured,
To whom he may in presence or aloofe,
Unfold the secrets of his mind assured:
Then doth this damsell merit no reproofe,
That with Brunello (to all fraud inured)
Doth frame her selfe to counterfeit a while,
For to deceive deceivers is no guile.
3
Now while these two did to conferre begin,
She to his fingers having still an eye,
The host and other servants of the Inne,
Came on the sodaine with a wofull crie,
And some did gaze without, and some within,
(As when men see a Comet in the skie)
The cause of this their wondring and their crying,
Was that they saw an armed horseman flying.
4
And straight by thhost and others they were told,
How one that had in Magicke art great skill,
Not far from thence had made a stately hold,
Of shining steele, and placd it on a hill,
To which he bringeth Ladies yong and old,
And men and maids according to his will,
And when within that castle they have beene,
They never after have bene heard or seene.
5
No sooner can he spie a pretie maide,
But straight he takes her up into the aire,
The which his custome makes them all afraid,
That either are or thinke that they be faire.
Those hardie knights that went to give them aide,
Of which sort many hither did repaire,
Went like the beasts to the sicke Lions den,
For all went in, but none returnd agen.
6
This tale in worthy Bradamant did breed
A kind of pleasure and confused joy,
In hope (which after she performd indeed)
The sight of her beloved to enjoy,
She praid the host procure a guide with speed,
As though each little stay did breed annoy:
She sweares that in her heart she longd to wrastle
With him that kept the captives in his castle.
7
Because that you sir knight should want no guide,
(Brunello said) I will my selfe be he,
I know the way, and somewhat have beside,
By which may fortune you may pleasurd be:
He meant the ring of force and vertue tride,
Although he meant not she the same should see.
Great thanks (quoth she) that you will take the pain,
In hope hereby the precious ring to gain.
8
Thus each from other hiding their intent,
They forward set like friends by breake of day,
Brunello sometime foremost of them went,
Sometime behind, as chanced on the way.
Now had they certaine houres in travell spent,
When they arrived where the castle lay,
Whereas mount Pyrene stands above the plaine,
So high as may discover France and Spaine.
9
When as the castle did in sight appeare,
So strange, so faire, so stately, and so hie,
In which that Knight whom she esteemd so deare,
With many others, prisoner did lie.
She thought her fittest time drew very neare,
To take the ring, and make Brunello die.
Wherefore with open force she doth assaile him,
Whose strength with age and feare soon gan to faile him.
10
Her meaning was the Caitife to have kild,
But unto that her noble heart said nay,
Small praise would come from bloud so basely spild,
She meanes to get the ring another way:
But first she bound him where he wild or nild,
And though with teares he did for pittie pray,
Yet left she him unto a tree fast tide,
And with the ring away she straight did ride.
11
And being in the greene fast by the towre,
Straight (as the fashion was) her horne she blew,
Out came that armed Knight that present houre,
And seeing there a challenger in vew,
He seemeth to assault her with great powre,
But by the ring she all his falshood knew:
She saw he carride neither sword nor speare,
Nor any weapon that one need to feare.
12
He only carride at his saddle bow,
A shield all wrapped in a crimson case,
And read a booke by which he made to show
Some strange and strong illusions in the place:
And many that these cunnings did not know,
He had deceivd and tane in little space.
And causd both swords and lances to appeare,
When neither sword nor lances them were neare.
13
But yet the beast he rode was not of art,
But gotten of a Griffeth and a Mare,
And like a Griffeth had the former part,
As wings and head, and clawes that hideous are,
And passing strength and force and ventrous hart,
But all the rest may with a horse compare.
Such beasts as these the hils of Ryfee yeeld,
Though in these parts they have bin seene but seeld.
14
This monster rare from farthest regions brought
This rare Magician ordred with such skill,
That in one month or little more he tought
The savage monster to obey his will:
And though by conjurations strange he wrought,
In other things his fancie to fulfill,
(As cunning men still trie each strange conclusion)
Yet in this Griffeth horse was one collusion.
15
The Ladie faire protected by the ring,
Found all his sleights (although she seemd not so)
Her purpose to the better passe to bring,
And first she seemes to ward a comming blow,
And then to strike, and oft to curse the wing,
That carride still away her flying fo,
And sith to fight on horsebacke did not boote,
She seemes as in a rage to light on foote.
16
The Necromancer, as his manner is,
Disclosed at the last his shining shield,
Supposing that the vertue would not misse,
To make her (as it had done others) yeeld:
So have I seene a craftie cat ere this,
Play with a silly mouse of house or field,
And let it go a while for sport and play,
But kill at last and beare it quite away.
17
I say that he the cat, the other mise,
Resembled had in every former fight,
But now this ring had made this one so wise,
That when she saw the strange enchanted light,
She falleth not of force, but of devise,
As though she were astonied at the sight,
And lay like one of life and sense bereaved,
By which the poore Magician was deceaved.
18
For straight he lighted from the flying horse,
To take her as he had done many mo,
The shield and booke in which was all his force,
He left behind him at his saddle bow,
But thinking to have found a senslesse corse,
Amazd and dead, he finds it nothing so,
For up she starts, so quite the case was altred,
That with the cord he brought, himselfe was haltred.
19
And when with those selfe bonds she had him tide,
By which he thought before her to have snared,
She strong and yong, he witherd, old and dride,
Alas an unmeet match to be compared,
Forthwith determining he should have dide,
To strike his head from shoulders she prepared,
Till she was movd to mercy with his teares,
And with the sight of white and hoary haires.
20
For when he saw his force was overlaid,
And that her strength was not to be withstood,
O pardon life thou heavenly wight (he said)
No honour comes by spilling aged blood.
Which words to mercie movd the noble maid,
Whose mind was alwayes mercifull and good.
Then why he built the castle she demanded,
And what he was to tell her him commanded.
21
With wofull words the old man thus replide,
I made this castle for no ill intention,
For covetice or any fault beside,
Or that I loved rapine or contention,
But to prevent a danger shall betide
A gentle Knight, I framed this invention:
Who as the heavens hath shewd me in short season,
Shall die in Christian state by filthy treason.
22
Rogero named is this worthy youth,
Whose good and safetie faine I would advance,
My name Atlante is to tell you truth,
I bred him of a child, till his hard chance,
And valiant mind (that breeds alas my ruth)
With Agramant entist him into France.
And I that (like mine owne child) alway lovd him,
From France and danger faine would have removd him.
23
By art and helpe of many a hellish elfe,
This castle for Rogero I did build,
And took him as I meant to take thy selfe,
But that with greater art I was beguild,
From dainty fare, and other worldly pelfe,
Because he should not thinke himselfe exild,
For company I brought him worthy wights,
Both men and women, Ladies faire and Knights.
24
They have all plentie of desired pleasure,
I bend to their contentment all my care,
For them I spend my travell and my treasure,
For musicke, clothes and games, and daintie fare,
As hart can think, and mouth require with measure,
Great store for them within this castle are.
Well had I traveld, well my time bestowed,
But you have mard the fruits that I had sowed.
25
But if your mind be gracious as your looke,
If stonie heart bide not in tender brest,
Behold I offer thee my shield and booke,
And flying horse, and grant my just request,
Some two or three, or all the Knights I tooke,
I give thee free, let but Rogero rest:
Whose health, whose wealth, whose safty and welfare
Have ever bene (and ever shall) my care.
26
Your care (quoth she) is very ill bestowne,
In thraldome vile to keepe a worthy wight:
As for your gifts you offer but mine owne,
Sith by my conquest you are mine in right.
Those dangers great you say to be foreshowne,
And upon him in time to come must light,
With figures cast and heavenly planets vewed,
Cannot be knowne or cannot be eschewed.
27
How can you others harmes foresee so farre,
And not prevent your owne that were so nie?
I certaine shall suppose your art doth erre,
And for the rest the end the truth shall trie:
I now intend your matter all to marre,
And that before these bonds I will untie,
You shall set free and loose your prisners all,
Whom in this castle you detained thrall.
28
When as the poore old man was so distrest,
That needs he must for feare and dread obay,
And that this same imperious dames behest,
Could neither beare deniall nor delay,
To do as she commands he deemes it best,
And therefore takes thinchanted place away.
He breakes some hollow fuming pots of stone,
And straight the wals and buildings all were gone.
29
This done, himselfe eke vanisht out of sight,
As did the castle at that present hower,
Then Ladies, Lords, and many a worthy Knight,
Were straight releast from his enchanted power:
And some there were had taken such delight
In those so stately lodgings of that tower,
That they esteemd that liberty a paine,
And wisht that pleasant slavery againe.
30
Here were at freedome set among the rest,
Gradasso, Sacrapant, two Kings of name,
Prasyldo and Iroldo that from thEst
Into this country with Renaldo came.
Here Bradamant found him she loved best,
Her deare Rogero of renowned fame,
Who after certaine notice of her had,
Did shew to see her he was very glad.
31
As one of whom he great account did make,
And thought himselfe to her most highly bound,
Since she put off her helmet for his sake,
And in her head receivd a grievous wound,
Twere long to tell what toile they both did take,
Both night and day each other to have found,
But till this present time they had no meeting,
Nor givn by word nor writing any greeting.
32
Now when before him present he beheld
Her that from danger had him sole redeemed,
His heart with so great joy and mirth was fild,
The happiest wight on earth himselfe he deemed:
And christall teares from her faire eyes distild,
Embracing him whom she most deare esteemed.
As oft we see a strong and sodaine passion,
Bring forth effects quite of another fashion.
33
The Griffeth horse the while upon the plaine,
Stood with the target at his saddle bow,
The damsell thought to take him by the raine,
But he then mounteth up, and like a crow
Chast by a dog forthwith descends againe,
And standeth still, or soareth very low,
And when that some come nie in hope to take him,
He flies away that none can overtake him.
34
But neare unto Rogero soone he staid,
Which by Atlantas care was sole procured,
Who for Rogeros danger was afraid,
And thinkes his safetie never well assured.
Wherefore he sent this monster for his aid,
And by this meanes from Europe him allured,
To his welfare his cares and thoughts he bendeth,
To succor and preserve him he intendeth.
35
Rogero from his horse forthwith alighted,
(The horse he rode on was Frontyno named)
And with this flying horse was so delighted,
That though he saw him wanton and untamed,
Yet up he leapt, and soone was sore afrighted,
He finds he would not to his mind be framed,
For in the aire the Griffeth sord so hie,
As doth the Faulcon that at fowle doth flie
36
The damsell faire that now beheld her deare,
Borne farre away by force of monsters wing,
Was sorrowfull and of so heavie cheare,
That to their course her wits she scant could bring,
The tale of Ganymed she once did heare,
Whom Poets faine to tend the heavenly King,
She doubts may true of her Rogero be,
That was as comely and as faire as he.
37
As long as eysight could at all prevaile,
So long she viewd him still in all and part:
But when his distance made the sight to faile,
At least she followed him in mind and hart,
To sob, to sigh, to weepe, lament and waile,
She never leaves these chances overthwart.
And seeing plaine her love and she were parted,
She tooke Frontyno and away departed.
38
Now was Rogero mounted up so hie,
He seemd to be a mote or little pricke,
For no man could distinguish him by eie,
Except his sight were passing fine and quicke:
All southerly this Griffeth horse doth flie,
(Was never jade that servd man such a tricke)
But let him on his way, God speed him well,
For of Renaldo somewhat I must tell.
39
Who all the while with raging tempest strived,
Borne where himselfe nor no man else did know,
By cruell stormie winds and weather drived,
That dayes and nights surceased not to blow:
At last in Scotland weary he arrived,
Where woods of Callidony first do show,
A famous wood wherein in times of old,
Brave deeds were done by ventrous Knights & bold.
40
Here have those famous Knights great honour won,
At whose rare worth the world it selfe did wonder,
Here were most valiant acts atchievd and done,
By Knights that dwelt there neare or far asunder,
And many a man hath here bene quite undone,
Whose feeble force his enemie was under,
Here were, as proved is by ancient charter,
The famous Tristram, Lancellot and sir Arther.
41
At this same wood Renaldo from his fleet,
Well mounted on his Bayards backe did part,
He points his men at Barwicke him to meet,
The while himselfe alone with valiant heart,
Sometime on horsebacke, sometime on his feete,
Doth march in mind to do some worthy part.
But seeing now the night came on so fast,
Unto an Abbey he repaires at last.
42
The Abbot and his Monks with comely grace,
As holy men of humane manners skilled,
Did welcome him, and in a little space,
With costly fare his emptie stomacke filled.
Renaldo straight enquired of the place,
What feates of armes had there bene late fulfilled,
And where a man by valiant acts may show,
If his exploits deserve dispraise or no.
43
They said that in that wood and forrest, find
Adventures strange and feates of armes he might,
But as the place, so are the actions blind,
That oft their doings never come to light.
But if (say they) we may perswade your mind,
Attempt an action worthy of a Knight,
Where if you passe the perill and the paine,
Eternall fame shall unto you remaine.
44
For if you would performe an act indeed,
Whereby great name and honour may be wonne,
Then this would be the best and noblest deed,
That late or long time past was ever done:
Our Princes daughter standeth now in need,
Of great defence, a danger great to shunne,
Against a Knight Lurcanio by name,
That seekes to take away her life and fame.
45
This Knight hath her unto the King accused,
I thinke of malice rather then of right,
That he hath seene how she her selfe abused,
And closely tooke her lover up by night.
Now by the lawes that in this land are used,
Except she have a champion that by might
Within a month Lurcanio prove a lier,
She shall be straight condemned to the fier.
46
The Scottish law that breedeth all this strife,
Appoints that all of base or better sort,
That take a man except she be his wife,
And spends her time with him in Venus sport,
By cruell torment finish shall her life,
Except she find some Knight that will support,
That she the hainous fact hath not committed,
But that in law she ought to be acquitted.
47
The King for faire Geneura takes great thought,
Both for her safetie and her estimation,
And seeks by all good meanes that may be wrought
For her defence, and maketh proclamation,
That by whose helpe from danger she is brought,
(Provided he be one of noble nation)
Shall have the goodly damsell for his wife,
With livings large to keepe him all his life.
48
But if within this month that now ensuth,
(So little time for her defence is left her)
No Knight will come that will defend her truth,
Then friends and fame, and life will be bereft her,
This enterprise would much commend your youth,
The praise whereof would last a great while after:
And from Atlantas pillars unto Inde,
A fairer Ladie you shall never finde.
49
Now then beside the honour and the praise,
To have a state, may make you live content,
The Princes love (that helpeth many waies)
Whose honour now is halfe consumd and spent.
Againe true Knights should helpe at all assaies,
When any harme to Ladies faire is ment.
The very law of knighthood hath commanded,
To grant this aide that we have now demanded.
50
Renaldo pausd, and after thus he spake,
Why then (said he) must this faire damsell die,
TH_t for her true and secret lovers sake,
Did condescend within his armes to lie?
Accurst be they that such a law did make,
Accurst be they that meane to live thereby,
Nay rather point a punishment and paine
For such as do their lovers true disdaine.
51
If faire Geneura had her friend or no,
I stand not now the matter to decide,
Yea I would praise her had she done it so,
That by her foes it had not bene espide.
Be as be may, my meaning is to go
To fight for her, if I may have a guide
That will but shew me where is her accuser,
And I shall quickly prove he doth abuse her.
52
I know not of the fact she have committed,
Nor can I say in this the certaine sure:
But this I say, it ought to be remitted,
Much rather then she should distresse endure.
I further say, they were but meanly witted,
That did so straight a stature first procure.
I also say, this law they ought recall,
In place thereof a better to enstall.
53
Sith like desire the fancies doth possesse,
Both of the male and of the female gender,
To do that thing that fooles count great excesse,
And quench the flame that Cupid doth engender,
To grant the men more scope, the women lesse,
Is law for which no reason we can render.
Men using many never are ashamed,
But women using one or two are blamed.
54
This law I say is partiall and naught,
And doth to women plaine and open wrong,
I trust in God they shall be better taught,
And that this law shall be revokt ere long,
The Abbot and his Monks in word and thought,
Allowd Renaldos speech, both old and yong:
They all condemne the law, and partly blame
The king that may and mendeth not the same.
55
Next morning when Renaldo doth perceave
The Sunne appeare, and starres their heads to hide,
He thanks them for his cheare, and taketh leave,
And takes a target bearer for his guide,
For feare lest unknowne paths should him deceave,
Himselfe all armed doth on Bayard ride,
And to the Scottish court he goes a stranger,
For to defend the damsell faire from danger.
56
And for they thought to take a way more nie,
They leave the common way a mile or twaine,
When suddenly they heard a piteous crie,
Well like to one that feared to be slaine.
In hast they spurre their horses by and by,
Along the vale, and looking downe the plaine,
A maide betweene two murderers they saw,
That meant to take her life against all law.
57
The caitifes put the damsell in great feare,
And shewd that they were come to end her dayes,
Which made her weepe, and shed full many a teare,
To move their minds she trieth many wayes:
And though the fact a while they did forbeare,
Yet now they had removed all delayes,
When as Renaldo came unto her aid,
And made the malefactors sore afraid.
58
Away they fled and left the wench alone,
For dread of death appald and sore affrighted,
Who all her cause of danger and of mone,
Unto Renaldo straight would have recited,
But so great hast he maketh to be gone,
He gave no eare, nor from his horse alighted,
But to ensue the journey first assignd him,
He causd the guide to take her up behind him.
59
And now on horsebacke marking well her face,
And marking more her gesture and behaviour,
Her pleasing speech, and modest sober grace,
She now hath wonne a great deale more his favour,
And after he had rode a little space,
To tell her hard adventure he would have her:
And she began with humble voice and low,
As more at large hereafter I will show.
ARGUMENT
THE FIFTH BOOKE OF
ORLANDO FURIOSO
Dalinda tels what sleights her Duke devised,
To get with faire Geneura reputation:
Lureanio of his brothers fall advised,
Accusth her publikely of fornication.
A Knight unknowne in armour blacke disguised,
Comes and withstands Lurcanios accusation,
Untill Renaldo made all matters plaine,
By whom the unjust Duke was justly slaine.
FIFTH BOOKE
1
We see the rest of living creatures all,
Both birds and beasts that on the earth do dwell,
Live most in peace, or if they hap to brall,
The male and female still agreeth well.
The fierce, the faint, the greater nor the small,
Against the law of nature will rebell.
The savage Lions, Beares and Buls most wyld,
Unto their females shew themselves most myld.
2
What fiend of hell, what rage raignes here so rife,
Disturbing still the state of humane harts?
How comes it that we find twixt man and wife,
Continuall jarres bred by injurious parts?
The undefiled bed is filde by strife,
And teares that grow of words unkind and thwarts:
Nay oft all care and feare is so exiled,
Their guilty hands with blood have bene defiled.
3
No doubt they are accurst and past all grace,
And such as have of God nor man no feare,
That dare to strike a damsell in the face,
Or of her head to minish but a haire:
But who with knife or poison would unlace
Their line of life, or flesh in peeces teare,
No man, nor made of flesh and blood I deeme him,
But sure some hound of hell I do esteeme him.
4
Such were these theeves that would the damsell kill,
That by Renaldos comming was recovered:
They secretly had brought her downe the hill,
In hope their fact could never be discovered,
Yet such is God, so good his gracious will,
That when she looked least she was delivered,
And with a chearefull heart that late was sorie,
She doth begin to tell the wofull storie.
5
Good sir (said she) my conscience to discharge,
The greatest tyrannie I shall you tell,
That erst in Thebes, in Athens or in Arge,
Was ever wrought, or where worst tyrants dwell:
My voice and skill would faile to tell at large
The filthy fact, for I beleeve it well,
Upon this countrey Phoebus shines more cold,
Because he doth such wicked acts behold.
6
Men seeke we see, and have in every age,
To foile their foes, and tread them in the dust:
But there to wreake their rancor and their rage,
Where they are lovd, is foule and too unjust.
Love should prevaile, just anger to asswage,
If love bring death, whereto can women trust:
Yet love did breed my danger and my feare,
As you shall heare if you will give me eare.
7
For entring first into my tender spring,
Of youthfull yeares, unto the court I came,
And served there the daughter of our King,
And kept a place of honour with good fame,
Till love (alas that love such care should bring)
Envide my state, and sought to do me shame.
Love made the Duke of Alban seeme to me,
The fairest wight that erst mine eye did see.
8
And (for I thought he lovd me all above)
I bent my selfe to hold and love him best,
But now I find that hard it is to prove,
By sight or speech what bides in secret brest;
While I (poore I) did thus beleeve and love,
He gets my body, bed and all the rest.
Nor thinking this might breed my mistres wrong
Evn in her chamber this I practisd long.
9
Where all the things of greatest value lay,
And where Geneura sleepes her selfe sometime,
There at a window we did finde a way,
In secret sort to cover this our crime:
Here when my love and I were bent to play,
I taught him by a scale of cord to clime,
And at the window I my selfe would stand,
And let the ladder downe into his hand.
10
So oft we meete together at this sport,
As faire Geneuras absence gives us leave,
Who usd to other chambers to resort
In summer time, and this for heat to leave:
And this we carried in so secret sort,
As none there was our doings did perceave,
For why, this window standeth out of sight,
Where none do come by day nor yet by night.
11
Twixt us this use continud many dayes,
Yea many months we usd this privie traine,
Love set my heart on fire so many wayes,
That still my liking lasted to my paine.
I might have found by certaine strange delayes,
That he but little lovd and much did faine,
For all his sleights were not so closely covered,
But that they might full easly be discovered.
12
At last my Duke did seeme enflamed sore,
On faire Geneura: neither can I tell,
If now this love began or was before,
That I did come to court with her to dwell.
But looke if I were subject to his lore,
And looke if he my love requited well,
He askt my aid herein no whit ashamed,
To tell me how of her he was enflamed.
13
Not all of love, but partly of ambition,
He beares in hand his minde is onely bent,
Because of her great state and hie condition,
To have her for his wife is his intent:
He nothing doubteth of the Kings permission,
Had he obtaind Geneuras free assent.
Ne was it hard for him to take in hand,
That was the second person in the land.
14
He sware to me, if I would be so kind
His hie attempt to further and assist,
That at his hands I should great favour finde,
And of the King procure me what me list:
How he would ever keepe it in his mind,
And in his former love to me persist,
And notwithstanding wife and all the rest,
I should be sure that he would love me best.
15
I straight consented to his fond request,
As readie his commandment to obay,
And thinking still my time emploied best,
When I had pleasd his fancy any way:
And when I found a time then was I prest,
To talke of him, and good of him to say.
I used all my art, my wit, and paine,
Geneuras love and liking to obtaine.
16
God knoweth how glad I was to worke his will,
How diligent I followd his direction,
I spard no time, no travell nor no skill,
To this my Duke to kindle her affection:
But alwayes this attempt succeeded ill,
Love had her heart already in subjection,
A comely Knight did faire Geneura please,
Come to this countrie from beyond the seas.
17
From Italy for service (as I heare)
Unto the court he and his brother came,
In tourneys and in tilt he had no peere,
All Brittain soone was filled with his fame.
Our King did love him well and hold him deere,
And did by princely gifts confirme the same.
Faire castels, townes, and lordships, him he gave,
And made him great, such power great princes have.
18
Our Soveraigne much, his daughter likt him more,
And Ariodant this worthy Knight is named,
So brave in deeds of armes himselfe he bore,
No Ladie of his love need be ashamed:
The hill of Stoil burneth not so sore,
Nor is the mount Vesuvio so inflamed,
As Ariodantes heart was set on fire,
Geneuras beautie kindling his desire.
19
His certaine love by signes most certaine found,
Cause that my sute unwillingly was hard,
She well perceivd his love sincere and sound,
Enclining to his sute with great regard.
In vaine I seeke my Dukes love to expound,
The more I seeke to make the more I mard.
For while with words I seek to praise and grace him
No lesse with workes she striveth to deface him .
20
Thus being oft repulst (so ill sped I,)
To my too much beloved Duke I went,
And told him how her heart was fixt alreadie,
How on the stranger all her mind was bent.
And praid him now sith there was no remedie,
That to surcease his sute he would consent,
For Ariodant so lovd the princely maid,
That by no meanes his flames could be alaid.
21
When Polynesso (so the Duke we call)
This tale unpleasant oftentime had hard,
And of himselfe had found his hopes were small,
When with my words her deeds he had compard,
Greevd with repulse, and vexed therewithall,
To see this stranger thus to be prefard,
The love that late his heart so sore had burned,
Was cooled all, and into hatred turned.
22
Intending by some vile and subtill traine,
To part Geneura from her faithfull lover,
And plant so great mislike betweene them twaine,
Yet with so cunning shew the same to cover,
That her good name he will so foule distaine,
Alive nor dead she never shall recover.
But lest he might in this attempt be thwarted,
To none at all his secret he imparted.
23
Now thus resolvd (Dalinda faire) quoth he,
(I so am cald) you know though trees be topt,
And shrowded low, yet sprout yong shoots we see,
And issue from that head so lately lopt:
So in my love it fareth now with me.
Though by repulse cut short and shrewdly cropt,
The pared tops such buds of love do render,
That still I prove new passions there engender.
24
Ne do I deeme so deare the great delight,
As I disdaine I should be so reject,
And left this griefe should overcome me quight,
Because I faile to bring it to effect,
To please my fond conceit this very night,
I pray thee deare to do as I direct:
When faire Geneura to her bed is gone,
Take thou the clothes she ware and put them on.
25
As she is wont her golden haire to dresse,
In stately sort to wind it on her wire,
So you her poyson lively to expresse,
May dresse your owne and weare her head attire,
Her gorgets and her jewels rich no lesse,
You may put on taccomplish my desire.
And when unto the window I ascend,
I will my comming there you do attend.
26
Thus I may passe my fancies foolish fit,
And thus (quoth he) my selfe I would deceive.
And I that had no reason nor no wit,
His shamefull drift (though open) to perceive:
Did weare my mistresse robes that servd me fit,
And stood at window, there him to receive.
And of the fraud I was no whit aware,
Till that fell out that caused all my care.
27
Of late twixt him and Ariodant had past,
About Geneura faire these words or such,
(For why there was good friendship in times past
Betweene them two, till love their hearts did tuch)
The Duke such kind of speeches out did cast,
He said to Ariodant, he marveld much,
That seeing he did alwaies well regard him,
He should againe so thanklesly reward him.
28
I know you see (for needs it must be scene)
The good consent and matrimoniall love,
That long betweene Geneur and me hath beene,
For whom I meane ere long the King to move.
Why should you fondly thrust your selfe betweene?
Why should you rove your reach so farre above?
For if my case were yours I would forbeare,
Or if I knew that you so loved were.
29
And I much more (the other straight replies)
Do marvell you sir Duke are so unkind,
That know our love, and see it with your eyes,
(Except that wilfulnesse have made you blind)
That no man can more sured knots devise,
Then her to me, and me to her do bind,
Into this sute so rashly are intruded,
Still finding from all hope you are excluded.
30
Why beare you not to me the like respect,
As my good will requireth at your hand?
Since that our love is growne to this effect,
We meane to knit our selves in weddings band:
Which to fulfill ere long I do expect,
For know I am (though not in rents or land)
Yet in my Princes grace no whit inferiour,
And in his daughters, greatly your superiour.
31
Well (said the Duke) errors are hardly moved,
That love doth breed in unadvised brest.
Each thinkes himselfe to be the best beloved,
And yet but one of us is loved best.
Wherefore to have the matter plainly proved,
Which should proceed in love, and which should rest,
Let us agree that victor he remaine,
That of her liking sheweth signes most plaine.
32
I will be bound to you by solemne oth,
Your secrets all and counsell to conceale,
So you likewise will plight to me your troth,
The thing I shew you never to reveale.
To trie the matter thus they greed both,
And from this doome hereafter not repeale:
But on the Bible first they were deposed,
That this their speech should never be disclosed.
33
And first the stranger doth his state reveale,
And tell the truth in hope to end the strife,
How she had promist him in wo and weale,
To live with him, and love him all her life:
And how with writing with her hand and seale,
She had confirmed she would be his wife,
Except she were forbidden by her father,
For then to live unmarride she had rather.
34
And furthermore he nothing doubts (he said)
Of his good service so plaine proofe to show,
As that the King shall nothing be afraid,
On such a Knight his daughter to bestow:
And how in this he needeth little aid,
As finding still his favour greater grow,
He doubts not he will grant his liking after
That he shall know it pleaseth so his daughter.
35
And thus you see so sound stands mine estate,
That I my selfe in thought can wish no more.
Who seekes her now is sure to come too late,
For that he seekes is granted me before;
Now onely rests in marriage holy state,
To knit the knot that must dure evermore.
And for her praise, I need not to declare it,
As knowing none to whom I may compare it.
36
Thus Ariodant a tale most true declared,
And what reward he hoped for his paine,
But my false Duke that him had fouly snared,
And found by my great folly such a traine,
Doth sweare all this might no way be compared
With his, no though himselfe did judge remaine,
For I (quoth he) can shew signes so expresse,
As you your selfe inferiour shall confesse.
37
Alas (quoth he) I see you do not know
How cunningly these women can dissemble,
They least do love where they make greatest show,
And not to be the thing they most resemble.
But other favours I receive I trow,
When as we two do secretly assemble,
As I will tell you (though I should conceale it)
Because you promise never to reveale it.
38
The truth is this, that I full oft have seene
Her ivory corpes, and bene with her all night,
And naked laine her naked armes betweene,
And full enjoyde the fruites of loves delight:
Now judge who hath in greatest favour beene,
To which of us she doth pertaine in right,
And then give place, and yeeld to me mine owne,
Sith by just proofes I now have made it knowne.
39
Just proofes? (quoth Ariodant) nay shamefull lies,
Nor will I credit give to any word:
Is this the finest tale you can devise?
What, hopd you that with this I could be dord?
No, no, but sith a slander foule doth rise
By thee to her, maintaine it with thy sword,
I call thee lying traitor to thy face,
And meane to prove it in this present place.
40
Tush (quoth the Duke) it were a foolish part,
For you to fight with me that am your friend,
Sith plaine to shew without deceit or art,
As much as I have said I do intend.
These words did gripe poore Ariodantes hart,
Downe all his limbes a shivering doth descend,
And still he stood with eyes cast downe on ground,
Like one would fall into a deadly sound.
41
With wofull mind, with pale and chearlesse face,
With trembling voice that came from bitter thought
He said he much desird to see this place,
Where such strange feats and miracles were wrought.
Hath faire Geneura granted you this grace,
That I (quoth he) so oft in vaine have sought?
Now sure except I see it in my view,
I never will beleeve it can be trew.
42
The Duke did say he would with all his hart
Both shew him where and how the thing was done,
And straight from him to me he doth depart,
Whom to his purpose wholly he had wonne:
With both of us he playth so well his part,
That both of us thereby were quite undone.
First he tels him that he would have him placed
Among some houses falne and quite defaced.
43
Some ruind houses stood opposd direct
Against the window where he doth ascend,
But Ariodant discreetly doth suspect
That this false Duke some mischiefe did intend,
And thought that all did tend to this effect,
By trechery to bring him to his end,
That sure he had devised this pretence,
With mind to kill him ere he parted thence.
44
Thus though to see this sight he thought it long,
Yet tooke he care all mischiefe to prevent,
And if perhap they offer force or wrong,
By force the same for to resist he ment.
He had a brother valiant and strong,
Lurcanio cald, and straight for him he sent,
Not doubting but alone by his assistance,
Against twice twentie men to make resistance.
45
He bids his brother take his sword in hand,
And go into a place that he would guide,
And in a corner closely there to stand,
Aloofe from tother threescore paces wide,
The cause he would not let him understand,
But prayes him there in secret sort to bide,
Untill such time he hapt to heare him call,
Else (if he lovd him) not to stirre at all.
46
His brother would not his request denie,
And so went Ariodant into his place,
And undiscoverd closely there did lie,
Till having looked there a little space,
The craftie Duke to come he might descrie,
That meant the chast Geneura to deface,
Who having made to me his wonted signes,
I let him downe the ladder made of lines.
47
The gowne I ware was white, and richly set
With aglets, pearle, and lace of gold well garnished,
my stately tresses coverd with a net
Of beaten gold most pure and brightly varnished.
Not thus content, the vaile aloft I set,
Which only Princes weare: thus stately harnished,
And under Cupids banner bent to fight,
All unawares I stood in all their sight.
48
For why Lurcanio either taking care,
Lest Ariodant should in some danger go,
Or that he sought (as all desirous are)
The counsels of his dearest friend to know,
Close out of sight by secret steps and ware,
Hard at his heeles his brother followd so,
Till he was nearer come by fiftie paces,
And there againe himselfe he newly places.
49
But I that thought no ill, securely came
Unto the open window as I said.
For once or twice before I did the same,
And had no hurt, which made me lesse afraid:
I cannot boast (except I boast of shame)
When in her robes I had my selfe arraid,
Me thought before I was not much unlike her,
But certaine now I seemed very like her.
50
But Ariodant that stood so farre aloofe,
Was more deceivd by distance of the place,
And straight beleevd against his owne behoofe,
Seeing her clothes that he had seene her face.
Now Yet those judge that partly know by proofe,
The wofull plight of Ariodantes case,
When Polynesso came my faithlesse frend,
In both their sights the ladder to ascend.
51
I that his comming willingly did wait,
And he once come thought nothing went amisse,
Embracd him kindly at the first receit,
His lips, his cheeks, and all his face did kisse,
And he the more to colour his deceit,
Did use me kinder then he had ere this.
This sight much care to Ariodante brought,
Thinking Geneura with the Duke was nought.
52
The griefe and sorrow sinketh so profound
Into his heart, he straight resolves to die,
He puts the pummell of his sword on ground,
And meanes himselfe upon the point to lie:
Which when Lurcanio saw and plainly found,
That all this while was closely standing by,
And Polynessos comming did discerne,
Though who it was he never yet could learne.
53
He held his brother for the present time,
That else himselfe for griefe had surely slaine,
Who had he not stood nigh and come betime,
His words and speeches had bene all in vaine.
What shall (quoth he) a faithlesse womans crime,
Cause you to die or put your selfe to paine?
Nay let them go, and curst be all their kind,
Ay borne like clouds with evry blast of wind.
54
You rather should some just revenge devise,
As she deserves, to bring her to confusion:
Sith we have plainly seene with both our eyes,
Her filthy fact appeare without collusion.
Love those that love againe, if you be wise,
For of my counsell this is the conclusion,
Put up your sword against your selfe prepared,
And let her sinne be to the King declared.
55
His brothers words in Ariodantes mind
Seeme for the time to make some small impression,
But still the curelesse wound remaind behind,
Despaire had of his heart the full possession.
And though he knew the thing he had assignd,
Contrary to a Christian knights profession:
Yet here on earth he torment felt so sore,
In hell it selfe he thought there was no more.
56
And seeming now after a little pause,
Unto his brothers counsell to consent,
He from the court next day himselfe withdrawes,
And makes none privie unto his intent.
His brother and the Duke both knew the cause,
But neither knew the place whereto he went:
Divers thereof most diversly did judge,
Some by good will perswaded, some by grudge.
57
Sevn dayes entire about for him they sought,
Sevn dayes entire no newes of him was found,
The eight a peasant to Geneura brought
These newes, that in the sea he saw him drownd:
Not that the waters were with tempest wrought,
Nor that his ship was stricken on the ground.
How then? Forsooth (quoth he) and therewith wept,
Downe from a rocke into the sea he lept.
58
And further he unto Geneura told,
How he met Ariodant upon the way,
Who made him go with him for to behold
The wofull act that he would do that day.
And charged him the matter to unfold,
And to his Princes daughter thus to say,
Had he been blind, he had full happie beene,
His death should shew that he too much had seene.
59
There stands a rocke against the Irish ile,
From thence into the sea himselfe he cast:
I stood and looked after him awhile,
The height and steepnesse made me sore agast,
I thence have traveld hither many a mile,
To shew you plainly how the matter past.
When as the clowne his tale had verifide,
Geneuras heart was throughly terrifide.
60
O Lord what wofull words by her were spoken,
Laid all alone upon her restlesse bed!
Oft did she strike her guiltlesse brest in token
Of that great griefe that inwardly was bred:
Her golden tresses all were rent and broken,
Recounting still those wofull words he sed,
How that the cause his cruell death was such,
Was onely this, that he had seene too much.
61
The rumor of his death spread farre and neare,
And how for sorrow he himselfe had killed,
The King was sad, the court of heavy cheare,
By Lords and Ladies many teares were spilled.
His brother most, as loving him most deare,
Had so his mind with sorrow overfilled,
That he was scantly able to refraine,
With his owne hands himselfe for to have slaine.
62
And oftentimes repeating in his thought,
The filthy fact he saw the other night,
Which (as you heard) the Duke and I had wrought,
I little looking it would come to light,
And that the same his brothers death had brought,
On faire Geneura he doth wreake his spight,
Not caring (so did wrath him overwhelme)
To leese the Kings good will and all his realme.
63
The King and Nobles sitting in the hall,
Right pensive all for Ariodants destruction,
Lurcanio undertakes before them all,
To give them perfect notice and instruction
Who was the cause of Ariodantes fall:
And having made some little introduction,
He said it was unchast Geneuras crime,
That made him kill himselfe before his time.
64
What should I seeke to hide his good intent?
His love was such as greater none could be,
He hopd to have your highnesse free assent,
When you his value and his worth should see:
But while a plaine and honest way he went,
Behold he saw another climb the tree,
And in the midst of all his hope and sute,
Another tooke the pleasure and the frute.
65
He further said, not that he had surmised,
But that his eies had seene Geneura stand,
And at a window as they had devised,
Let down a ladder to her lovers hand,
But in such sort he had himselfe disguised,
That who it was he could not understand.
And for due proofe of this his accusation,
He bids the combat straight by proclamation.
66
How sore the King was grievd to heare these newes,
I leave it as a thing not hard to guesse,
Lurcanio plaine his daughter doth accuse,
Of whom the King did looke for nothing lesse:
And this the more his feare and care renewes,
That on this point the lawes are so expresse,
Except by combat it be provd a lie,
Needs must Geneura be condemnd to die.
67
How hard the Scottish law is in this case,
I do not doubt but you have heard it told,
How she that doth another man embrace,
Beside her husband, be she yong or old,
Must die, except within two fortnights space,
She find a champion stout that will uphold,
That unto her no punishment is due,
But he that doth accuse her is untrue.
68
The King (of crime that thinkes Geneura cleare)
Makes offer her to wed to any Knight,
That will in armes defend his daughter deare,
And prove her innocent in open fight.
Yet for all this no champion doth appeare,
Such feare they have of this Lurcanios might.
One gazeth on another as they stand,
But none of them the combat takes in hand.
69
And further by ill fortune and mischance,
Her brother Zerbin now is absent thence,
And gone to Spaine (I thinke) or else to France,
Who were he here, she could not want defence,
Or if perhaps so lucky were her chance,
To send him notice of her need from hence,
Had she the presence of her noble brother,
She should not need the aide of any other.
70
The King that meanes to make a certaine triall,
If faire Geneura guilty be or no,
(For still she stiffly stood in the deniall,
Of this that wrought her undeserved wo)
Examines all her maids, but they reply all,
That of the matter nothing they did know.
Which made me seek for to prevent the danger,
The Duke and I might have about the stranger.
71
And thus for him more then my selfe afraid,
(So faithfull love to this false Duke I bare)
I gave him notice of these things, and said,
That he had need for both of us beware.
He praisd my constant love, and farther praid,
That I would credit him, and take no care.
He points two men (but both to me unknowne)
To bring me to a castle of his owne.
72
Now sir, I thinke you find by this effect,
How soundly I did love him from my heart,
And how I provd by plaine course and direct,
My meaning was not any wayes to start:
Now marke if he to me bare like respect,
And marke if he requited my desart,
Alas how shall a silly wench attaine,
By loving truely to be lovd againe.
73
This wicked Duke ungratefull and perjured,
Beginneth now of me to have mistrust,
His guilty conscience could not be assured,
How to conceale his wicked acts unjust,
Except my death (though causlesse) be procured,
So hard his heart, so lawlesse was his lust.
He said he would me to his castle send,
But that same castle should have beene mine end.
74
He wild my guides when they were past that hill,
And to the thicket a little way descended,
That there (to quite my love) they should me kill,
Which as you saw, they to have done intended,
Had not your happy comming stopt their will,
That (God and you be thankt) I was defended.
This tale Dalinda to Renaldo told,
And all the while their journey on they hold.
75
This strange adventure luckily befell
To good Renaldo, for that now he found,
By this Dalinda that this tale did tell,
Geneuras mind unspotted cleare and sound,
And now his courage was confirmed well,
That wanted erst a true and certaine ground:
For though before for her he meant to fight,
Yet rather now for to defend the right.
76
To great S. Andrewes towne he maketh hast,
Whereas the King was set with all his traine,
Most carefull waiting for the trumpets blast,
That must pronounce his daughters joy or paine.
But now Renaldo spurred had so fast,
He was arrivd within a mile or twaine,
And through the Village as he then was riding,
He met a page that brought them fresher tiding.
77
How there was come a Warriour all disguised,
That meant to prove Lurcanio said untreu,
His colours and his armour well devised,
In maner and in making very new:
And though that sundry sundrily surmised,
Yet who it was for certaine no man knew.
His page demaunded of his masters name,
Did sweare he never heard it since he came.
78
Now came Renaldo to the City wall,
And at the gate but little time he staid,
The porter was so ready at his call:
But poore Dalinda now grew sore afraid,
Renaldo bids her not to feare at all,
For why he would her pardon beg he said:
So thrusting in among the thickest rout,
He saw them stand on scaffolds all about.
79
It straight was told him by the standers by,
How there was thither come a stranger Knight,
That meant Geneuras innocence to try,
And that already was begun the fight:
And how the greene that next the wall did ly,
Was raild about of purpose for the fight.
This newes did make Renaldo hasten in,
And leave behind Dalinda at her Inne.
80
He told her he would come again ere long,
And spurs his horse that made an open lane,
He pierced in the thickest preasse among,
Whereas these valiant Knights had givn and tane,
Full many strokes, with sturdy hand and strong,
Lurcanio thinks to bring Geneuras bane,
The other meanes the Lady to defend,
Whom (though unknown) they favor and commend.
81
There was Duke Polynesso bravely mounted,
Upon a courser of an exclent race,
Sixe Knights among the better sort accounted,
On foot in armes do marshall well the place.
The Duke by office all the rest surmounted,
High Constable (as alwaies in such case)
Who of Geneuras danger was as glad,
As all the rest were sorrowfull and sad.
82
Now had Renaldo made an open way,
And was arived there in lucky howre,
To cause the combat to surcease and stay,
Which these two knights applid with al their powre.
Renaldo in the Court appeard that day,
Of noble Chivalry the very flowre,
For first the Princes audience he praid,
Then with great expectation thus he said.
83
Send (noble Prince) quoth he, send by and by,
And cause forthwith that they surcease the fight,
For know, that which so ere of these doth dy,
It certaine is he dies against all right.
One thinks he tels the truth and tels a ly,
And is deceivd by error in his fight,
And looke what cause his brothers death procured,
That very same hath him to fight allured.
84
The tother of a nature good and kind,
Not knowing if he hold the right or no,
To dy or to defend her hath assignd,
Lest so rare beauty should be spilled so.
I harmelesse hope to save the faultlesse mind:
And those that mischiefe mind to worke them wo,
But first o Prince to stay the fight give order,
Before my speech proceedeth any farder.
85
Renaldos person with the tale he told,
Movd so the King, that straight without delay,
The Knights were bidden both their hands to hold,
The combat for a time was causd to stay,
Then he againe with voice and courage bold,
The secret of the matter doth bewray,
Declaring plaine how Polynessos lust
Was first contriver of this deed unjust.
86
And proffreth of this speech to make a proofe,
By combat hand to hand with sword and speare:
The Duke was cald that stood not far aloofe,
And scantly able to conceale his feare,
He first denies, as was for his behoofe,
And straight to battell both agreed were,
They both were armd, the place before was ready,
Now must they fight there could be no remedy.
87
How was the King, how were the people glad,
That faire Geneura faultlesse there did stand,
As Gods great goodnesse now revealed had,
And should be proved by Renaldos hand.
All thought the Duke of mind and maners bad,
The proudst and cruelst man in all the land,
It likely was as every one surmised,
That this deceit by him should be devised.
88
Now Polinesso stands with doubtfull brest,
With fainting heart, with pale dismaied face,
Their trumpets blew, they set their speares in rest,
Renaldo commeth on a mighty pace,
For at this fight he finish will the feast,
And where to strike him he designes a place:
His very first encounter was so fierce,
Renaldos speare the tothers sides did pierce.
89
And having overthrowne the Duke by force,
As one unable so great strokes to bide,
And cast him cleane sixe paces from his horse,
Himselfe alights and thothers helme untide,
Who making no resistance like a corse,
With faint low voice for mercy now he cride,
And plaine confest with this his later breath,
The fault that brought him this deserved death.
90
No sooner had he made this last confession,
But that his life did faile him with his voyce.
Geneuras double scape of foule oppression,
In life and fame did make the King rejoyce:
In lieu of her to leese his crownes possession,
He would have wisht, if such had beene his choyce:
To leese his realme he could have beene no sadder:
To get it lost he could have beene no gladder.
91
The combat done, Renaldo straight untide
His beaver, when the King that knew his face,
Gave thankes to God that did so well provide,
So doubtlesse helpe in such a dangerous case.
That unknowne Knight stood all this while aside,
And saw the matters passed in the place,
And evry one did muse and marvell much,
What wight it was whose curtesie was such.
92
The King did aske his name because he ment,
With kingly gifts his service to reward,
Affirming plainly that his good intent,
Deserved thanks and very great regard.
The Knight with much intreatie did assent,
And to disarme himselfe he straight prepard,
But who it was if you vouchsafe to looke,
I will declare it in another booke.
ARGUMENT
THE SIXTH BOOKE OF
ORLANDO FURIOSO
Geneura faire to Ariodant is given,
And he a Duke is made that verie day.
Rogero with the Griffeth horse is driven,
Unto Alcynas Ile, and there doth stay.
A mirtle in the middle strangly riven,
Alcinas frands doth unto him bewray:
Of which enformd he thence would have departed,
But by the way he finds his purpose thwarted.
SIXT BOOKE
1
Most wretched he, that thinks by doing ill,
His evill deedes long to conceale and hide,
For though the voice and tongues of men be still,
By foules or beasts his sin shall be descride:
And God oft worketh by his secret will,
That sinne it selfe the sinner so doth guide,
That of his owne accord, without request,
He makes his wicked doings manifest.
2
The gracelesse wight, Duke Polinesso thought,
His former fault should sure have bin concealed,
If that Dalinda unto death were brought,
By whom alone the same could be revealed.
Thus making worse the thing before was nought,
He hurt the wound which time perhaps had healed.
And weening with more sinne the lesse to mend,
He hastned on his well deserved end.
3
And lost at once his life, his state, and frends,
And honour too, a losse as great or more.
Now (as I said) that unknowne Knight entends,
Sith everie one to know him sought so sore,
And sith the King did promise large amends,
To shew his face which they saw oft before,
And Ariodant most lovely did appeare,
Whom they thought dead as you before did heare.
4
He whom Geneura wofully did waile,
He whom Lurcanio deemed to be dead,
He whom the King and court did so bewaile,
He that to all the realme such care had bred,
Doth live: the clownes report in this did faile,
On which false ground the rumour false was spred.
And yet in this the peasant did not mocke,
He saw him leape downe headlong from the rock.
5
But as we see men oft with rash intent
Are desperate and do resolve to die,
And straight do change that fancie and repent,
When unto death they do approch more nie:
So Ariodant to drowne himselfe that ment,
Now plungd in sea repented by and by,
And being of his limbes able and strong,
Unto the shore he swam againe ere long.
6
And much dispraising in his inward thought,
This fond conceit that late his minde possest,
At last a blind and narrow path him brought,
All tyrd and wet to be an hermits guest:
With whom to stay in secret sort he sought,
Both that he might his former griefe digest,
And learne the truth, if this same clownes report,
Were by Geneura tane in griefe or sport.
7
There first he heard how she conceivd such griefe,
As almost brought her life to wofull end,
He found of her they had so good beleefe,
They thought she would not in such sort offend:
He further heard except shee had releese,
By one that would her innocence defend,
It was great doubt Lurcanios accusation,
Would bring her to a speedie condemnation,
8
And looke how love before his heart enraged,
So now did wrath enflame, and though he knew wel
To wreake his harme, his brothers life was gaged,
He nathles thought his act so foule and cruell,
That this his anger could not be asswaged,
Unto his flame love found such store of fewel:
And this the more increast his wrath begun,
To heare how every one the fight did shun.
9
For why Lurcanio, was so stout and wise,
Except it were for to defend the truth,
Men thought he would not so the King despise,
And hazard life to bring Geneuras ruth,
Which caused everie one his friend advise,
To shunne the fight that must maintaine untruth.
But Ariodant after long disputation,
Meanes to withstand his brothers accusation.
10
Alas (quoth he) I never shall abide,
Her, through my cause, to die in wo and paine,
For danger or for death what may betide,
Be she once dead my life cannot remaine,
She is my saint, in her my blisse doth bide,
Her golden rayes my eies light still maintaine,
Fall backe, fall edge, and be it wrong or right,
In her defence I am resolvd to fight.
11
I take the wrong, but yet ile take the wrong,
And die I shall, yet if I die I care not,
But then alas, by law she dies ere long,
O cruell lawes so sweete a wight that spare not:
Yet this small joy I finde these griefes among,
That Polinesso to defend her dare not,
And she shall finde how little she was loved,
Of him that to defend her never moved.
12
And she shall see me dead there for her sake,
To whom so great a damage she hath done:
And of my brother just revengement take
I shall, by whom this strife was first begun,
For there at least my death plaine proofe shall make
That he this while a foolish thred hath spun,
He thinketh to avenge his brothers ill,
The while himselfe his brother there shall kill.
13
And thus resolvd, he gets him armour new,
New horse and all things new that needfull beene
All clad in blacke, a sad and mournfull hew,
And crost with wreath of yellow and of greene,
A stranger bare his sheeld that neither knew
His masters name nor him before had seene,
And thus as I before rehearst, disguised
He met his brother as he had devised.
14
I told you what successe the matter had,
How Ariodant himselfe did then discover,
For whom the King himselfe was even as glad,
As late before his daughter to recover,
And since he thought in joyfull times and sad,
No man could shew himselfe a truer lover
Then he that after so great wrong, intended
Against his brother her to have defended.
15
Both loving him by his owne inclination,
And praid thereto by many a Lord and Knight,
And chiefly by Renaldos instigation,
He gave to Ariodant Geneura bright.
Now by the Dukes atteint and condemnation,
Albania came to be the Kings in right.
Which dutchie falling in so luckie houre,
Was given unto the damsell for her dowre.
16
Renaldo for Dalindas pardon praide,
Who for her error did so sore repent,
That straight she vowd, with honest mind and staid,
To live her life in prayer and penitence:
Away she packt, nor further time delaid,
In Datia, to a nunrie there she went.
But to Rogero now I must repaire,
That all this while did gallop in the aire.
17
Who though he were of mind and courage stout,
And would not easily feare or be dismaid,
Yet doubtlesse now his mind was full of doubt,
His hart was now appald, and sore afraid.
Farre from Europa, he had travaild out,
And yet his flying horse could not be staid,
But past the pillars xij. score leagues and more,
Pitcht there by Hercles many yeares before.
18
This Griffeth horse a bird most huge and rare,
Doth pierce the skie with so great force of wing,
That with that noble bird he may compare,
Whom Poets faine, Joves lightning downe to bring
To whom all other birds inferior are,
Because they take the Eagle for their king.
Scarse seemeth from the clouds to go so swift,
The thunderbolt sent by the lightnings drift.
19
When long this monster strange had kept his race,
Straight as a line bending to neither side,
He spide an Iland distant little space,
To which he bends in purpose there to bide,
Much like in semblance was it to the place,
Where Arethusa usd her selfe to hide,
And seekes so long her love to have beguild,
Till at the last she found her selfe with child.
20
A fairer place they saw not all the while,
That they had travaild in the aire aloft,
In all the world was not a fairer ile,
If all the world to finde the fame were sought:
Here having travaild many a hundred mile,
Rogero by his bird to rest was brought,
In pastures greene, and hils with coole fresh aire,
Cleere rivers, shadie banks, and meddowes faire.
21
Heere divers groves there were, of dainty shade,
Of Palme, or Orenge trees, of Cedars tall,
Of sundrie fruites and flowers that never fade,
The shew was faire, the plenty was not small.
And arbours in the thickest places made,
Where little light and heat came not at all:
Where Nightingales did straine their little throtes,
Recording still their sweete and pleasant notes.
22
Amid the lilly white and fragrant rose,
Preservd still fresh by warme and temprate aire,
The fearefull hare, and conny carelesse goes,
The stag with stately head and body faire,
Doth feed secure, not fearing any foes,
That to his damage hither may repaire,
The Bucke and Doe doth feed amid the fields,
As in great store the pleasant forrest yeelds.
23
It needlesse was to bid Rogero light,
When as his horse approched nigh the ground,
He cast himselfe out of his saddle quite,
And on his feet he falleth safe and sound,
And holds the horses raines, lest else he might
Fly quite away, and not againe be found,
And to a mirtle by the water side,
Betweene two other trees his beast he tide.
24
And finding thereabout a little brooke,
That neere unto a shady mountaine stands,
His helmet from his head forthwith he tooke,
His shield from arme, his gantlet from his hands,
And from the higher places he doth looke,
Full oft to sea, full oft to fruitfull lands,
And seekes the coole and pleasant aire to take,
That doth among the leaves a murmure make.
25
Oft with the water of that crystall well,
He seekes to quench his thirst and swage his heate,
With which his veines enflamd did rise and swell,
And causd his other parts to fry in sweate:
Well may it seeme a marvell that I tell,
Yet will I once againe the same repeate,
He traveld had above three thousand mile,
And not put off his armour all the while.
26
Behold his horse he lately tyed there,
Among the boughs in shady place to bide,
Strave to go loose, and started backe for feare,
And puls the tree to which the raines were tide,
In which (as by the sequell shall appeare)
A humane soule it selfe did strangely hide.
With all his strength the steed strives to be loosed,
By force whereof the mirtle sore was broosed.
27
And as an arme of tree from body rent,
By peasant strength with many a sturdy stroke,
When in the fire the moisture all is spent,
The empty places fild with aire and smoke,
Do boile and strive, and find at last a vent,
When of the brand a shiver out is broke,
So did the tree strive, bend, writh, wring and breake,
Till at a little hole it thus did speake.
28
Right curteous Knight (for so I may you deeme,
And must you call not knowing other name)
If so you are as gracious as you seeme,
Then let your friendly deed confirme the same,
Unloose this monster, sent as I esteeme,
To adde some farther torment to my shame.
Alas mine inward griefes were such before,
By outward plagues they need be made no more.
29
Rogero mazed looked round about,
If any man or woman he might see,
At last he was resolved of his doubt,
He found the voice was of the mirtle tree,
With which abasht, though he were wise and stout,
He said, I humbly pray thee pardon me,
Whether thou be some humane ghost or spright,
Or power divine that in this wood hast right.
30
Not wilfulnesse, but ignorance did breed
Thine injury, mine error in this case:
And made me do this unadvised deed,
By which unwares thy leaves I did deface:
But let thy speech so farre forth now proceed,
To tell me how thou art that in this place,
Dost dwell in tree amid the desert field,
As God from haile and tempest thee may shield.
31
And if that I for this amends may make,
Or now or after, or by paine or art,
I sweare to thee by her, and for her sake,
That holds of me, and shall the better part,
That I shall not surcease all paines to take,
To worke thy joy, or to asswage thy smart.
This said, he saw again the mirtle shake,
And then again he heard that thus it spake:
32
Sir Knight, your curtesie doth me constraine,
To shew to you the thing that you desier,
Although I sweat (as you may see) with paine,
Like greenest boughes upon the flaming fier,
I will discover unto you her traine,
(Wo worth the time that ever I came nie her)
That did for malice and by magicke strange,
My lively shape to livelesse branches change.
33
I was an Earle, Astolpho was my name,
Well knowne in France in time of warre and peace,
Orlandos cosen and Renalds, whose fame
While time shall last in earth shall never cease.
Of Oton King of English Ile I came,
And should succeed him after his decease,
Both comely, young, carelesse of worldly pelfe,
To none an enemy but to my selfe.
34
For as we turned from the Estern Iles,
Whose banks are worne with surge of Indian wave,
Where I and many more with witching wiles,
Were straight inclosed in a hollow cave,
Untill Orlando did avenge the guiles,
And found by force a meane his friends to save,
We Westward went upon the shore and sand,
That lieth on the North side of the land.
35
And as we travelld homeward on our way,
As chance did leade or destiny us drive,
It was our fortune once on breake of day,
Hard by Alcynas Castle to arrive,
Where she alone, to sport her selfe and play,
Such kind of gins for fishes did contrive,
That though we saw no net, no bait, no hooke,
Yet still we saw that store of fish she tooke.
36
The Dolphin strong, the Tunny good of tast,
The Mullet, Sturgeon, Samon (princely fish)
With Porpose, Seales, and Thornpooles came as fast,
As she was pleased to commaund or wish.
And still she tooke of each kind as they past,
Some strange for shew, some dainty for the dish,
The horsefish and the huge and monstrous whales,
Whose mighty members harnest are with scales.
37
Among the rest that were too long to count,
We saw the fish that men Balena can,
Twelve yards above the water did amount
His mighty backe, the monster is so tall:
And (for it stood so still) we made account,
It had beene land, but were deceived all,
We were deceivd, well I may rew the while,
It was so huge we thought it was an Ile.
38
I say this potent witch Alcyna tooke
All sorts of fish without or net or aide,
But only reading in a little booke,
Or mumbling words, I know not what she said,
But seeing me so well she likt my looke,
That at her sport but little time she staid,
But sought forthwith to trap me by her skill,
Which straight fell out according to her will.
39
For toward me with pleasant cheare she came,
In modest maner and in comely sort,
And did withall her speech demurely frame,
And praid me to her lodging to resort,
Or if I would be partner of her game,
She offred me to shew me all the sport,
And all the kinds of fish in seas that were,
Some great, some small, some smooth, and some with haire.
40
And if you lift a Mermaid faire to see,
That can with song the raging stormes appease,
At yond same little banke you may (quoth she)
To which we two will safely passe with ease:
(The banke which she pretends to shew to me,
Was that same fish the monster of the seas)
And I that too much loved to adventer,
Upon the fishes back with her did enter.
41
My cousins Dudon and Renaldo beckned
To draw me thence, I heard not what they said,
But of their speech and signes I little reckned,
I had not wit enough to be afraid:
But soone my courage was appald and weakned,
I straight was faine in vaine to cry for aid,
The monstrous fish that seemd to me an Ile
Straight bare me from the shore full many a mile.
42
There was Renaldo like to have beene drownd,
Who swam to save me if perhaps he might,
But soddainly of him and of the ground,
A misty cloud did take away the sight:
Alcyna and I with seas environd round,
Did travell on that monster all the night,
And then with gracious speeches she began
To give me all the comfort that she can.
43
And thus at last to this place we repaire,
Of which by wrong Alcyna keepes possession,
Deposing forcibly the rightfull heire,
(Her elder lawfull sister) by oppression:
The other two more vicious then faire,
Are bastards, and begotten in transgression,
I heard it told, and have it not forgotten,
She and Morgana were in incest gotten.
44
And as their first beginning was of sinne,
So is their life ungodly and defamed,
Of law nor justice passing not a pinne,
But like the heifer wanton and untamed,
By warre they seeke their sisters right to winne,
Their elder sister Logistilla named,
And have so farre prevailed with their powers,
They have of hers about an hundred towers.
45
And had ere this time taken all away,
Save that the rest is strongly fenced round,
For of one side the water stops the way,
On thother side the vantage of the ground,
Which with a mighty banke doth make a stay,
Much like the English and the Scottish bound:
And yet the bastard sisters doe their best,
And labour still to spoile her of the rest.
46
And why, because they see her good and holy,
They hated her because themselves are vicious.
But to returne, and tell you of my folly,
That turnd to me so hurtfull and pernicious,
I now again grew somwhat bold and jolly,
I see no cause to feare or be suspicious,
And finding she lovd me by signes most plaine,
I wholly bent my selfe to love againe.
47
When I her dainty members did embrace,
I deemed then there was none other blisse,
Me thought all other pleasures were but base,
Of friends nor kin I had no want nor misse,
I onely wisht to stand in her good grace,
And have accesse her corrall lips to kisse,
I thought my selfe the happiest of all creatures,
To have a Lady of so goodly features.
48
And this the more confirmd my joy and pride,
That toward me she shewd such love and care,
By night and daily I was by her side,
To do or speake against me no man dare,
I was her stay, I was her houses guide,
I did commaund, the rest as subjects are:
She trusted me, alone with me she talked,
With me within she sat, without she walked.
49
Alas, why do I open lay my sore,
Without all hope of medicine or releefe?
And call to mind the fickle joy before,
Now being plungd in gulfes of endlesse griefe?
For while I thought she lovd me more and more,
When as I deemd my joy and blisse was chiefe,
Her waving love away from me was taken,
A new guest came, the old was cleane forsaken.
50
Then did I find full soone, though too too late,
Her wanton, wavering, wily womans wit,
Accustomd in a trice to love and hate,
I saw another in my seate to sit:
Her love was gone, forgone my happie state,
The marke is mist that I was wont to hit:
And I had perfect knowledge then ere long,
That to a thousand she had done like wrong.
51
And least that they about the world might go,
And make her wicked life and falshood knowne,
In divers places she doth them bestow,
So as abrode they shall not make their mone,
Some into trees, amid the field that grow,
Some into beasts, and some into a stone:
In rockes or rivers she doth hide the rest,
As to her cruell fancie seemeth best.
52
And you that are arrivd by steps so strange,
To this unfortunate and fatall Ile,
Although in youthfull sports a while you range,
And though Alcina favour you a while,
(Although you little looke for any change,)
Although she friendly seeme on you to smile,
Yet looke no lesse, but changd at last to be,
Into some brutish beast, some stone or tree.
53
Thus though perhap my labour is but lost,
Yet have I givn you good and plaine advise,
Who can themselves beware by others cost,
May be accounted well among the wise:
The waves that my poore ship so sore hath tost,
You may avoid by heed and good devise,
Which if you do, then your successe is such,
As many others could not do so much.
54
Rogero did with much attention heare
Astolfos speech, and by his name he knew
To Bradamant he was of kindred neare,
Which made him more his wofull state to rew:
And for her sake that loved him most deare,
To whom from him all love againe was dew,
He sought to bring him aid and some releefe,
At least with comfort to asswage his griefe.
55
Which having done, he asked him againe,
The way that would to Logistilla guide,
For were it by the hils, by dale or plaine,
He thither meant forthwith to runne or ride.
Astolfo answerd it would aske much paine,
And many a weary journey he should bide,
Because to stop this way Alcina sets
A thousand kinds of hindrances and lets.
56
For as the way it selfe is very steepe,
Not passable without great toile and paine,
So she that in her mischiefe doth not sleepe,
Doth make the matter harder to attaine,
By placing men of armes the way to keepe,
Of which she hath full many in her traine.
Rogero gave Astolfo many thanks,
For giving him this warning of her pranks.
57
And leading then the flying horse in hand,
Not daring yet to mount a beast so wilde,
Least (as before I made you understand)
He might the second time have been beguild:
He meanes to go to Logistillas land,
A vertuous Ladie, chast, discreet and mild,
And to withstand Alcina tooth and naile,
That upon him her force might not prevaile.
58
But well we may commend his good intent,
Though missing that to which he did aspire,
Who judgeth of our actions by thevent,
I wish they long may want their most desire.
For though Rogero to resist her ment,
And feared her as children feare the fire,
Yet was he taken to his hurt and shame,
Even as the flie is taken in the flame.
59
For going on his way, behold he spies
A house more stately then can well be told,
Whose wals do seeme exalted to the skies,
From top to bottome shining all of gold,
A sight to ravish any mortall eyes,
It seemd some Alcumist did make this hold,
The wals seemd all of gold, but yet I trow
All is not gold that makes a golden show.
60
Now though this stately sight did make him stay,
Yet thinking on the danger him foretold,
He left the easie and the beaten way,
That leadeth to this rich and stately hold,
And to her house where vertue beares the sway,
He bends his steps with all the hast he could:
But ere he could ascend the mountaines top,
A crew of catives sought his way to stop.
61
A foule deformd, a brutish cursed crew,
In bodie like to antike worke devised,
Of monstrous shape, and of an ugly hew,
Like masking Mathachinas all disguised.
Some looke like dogs, and some like apes in vew,
Some dreadfull looke, and some to be despised,
Yong shamelesse folke, and doting foolish aged,
Some nakd, some drunk, some bedlamlike enraged.
62
One rides in hast a horse without a bit,
Another rides as slow, an asse or cow,
The third upon a Centaurs rumpe doth sit,
A fourth would flie with wings, but knows not how,
The fift doth for a speare employ a spit,
Sixt blowes a blast like one that gelds a sow.
Some carrie ladders, others carrie chaines,
Some sit and sleepe while others take the paines.
63
The Captaine of this honorable band,
With belly swolne, and puffed blubberd face,
Because for drunkennesse he could not stand,
Upon a tortesse rode a heavy pace:
His sergeants all were round about at hand,
Each one to do his office in his place:
Some wipe the sweat, with fans some make a wind,
Some stay him up before, and some behind.
64
Then one of these that had his feet and brest
Of manlike shape, but like unto a hound
In eares, in necke, and mouth, and all the rest
Doth utter barking words with currish sound,
Part to command and partly to request
The valiant knight to leave the higher ground,
And to repaire unto Alcynas castle,
Or els they two, for mastery must wrastle.
65
This monster seeing his request denide,
Strake at Rogeros beaver with a launce,
But he that could no such rude jests abide,
With Ballisarda smote him in the paunch
Out came the sword a foote on thother side,
With which he led his fellowes such a daunce,
That some hopt headlesse, some cut by the knees,
And some their arms, and some their eares did leese.
66
In vaine it was their targets to oppose
Against the edge of his enchanted blade,
No steele had force to beare those fatall blowes,
Unto the quicke the sword a passage made:
But yet with numbers they do him inclose,
Their multitude his force did overlade:
He needs at least Briarius hundred armes
To foile the foes that still about him swarmes.
67
Had he remembred to unfold the shield,
Atlanta carrid at his saddle bow,
He might have quickly overcome the field,
And causd them all without receiving blow,
Like men dismaid and blind themselves to yeeld:
But he perhaps that vertue did not know,
Or if he did, perhaps he would disdaine,
Where force did faile, by fraud his will to gaine.
68
But being full resolved not to yeeld
Unto such beasts, but ere he parted thence
He would his carkasse leave amid the field,
And manfully would die in his defence,
Then lo good hap that failes the forward seeld,
Provided him a meane to rid him hence.
There came two Ladies, either like a Queene,
And each of them most stately to be seene.
69
For each of them an Unicorne did ride,
As white as Lillies, or unmolten snow,
And each of them was deckt with so great pride,
As might most richly set them forth to show,
But each of them was so divinely eide,
Would move a man in love with them to grow,
And each of them in all points was so choice,
As in their sight a man would much rejoyce.
70
Then both of them unto the medow came,
Whereas Rogero fought with all that rout,
And both of them those brutish beasts did blame,
That sought to harme a knight so strong and stout.
Rogero blushing now with modest shame,
Thankt them that had of danger holpt him out,
And straight consented with those Ladies faire,
Unto Alcynas castle to repaire.
71
Those ornaments that do set forth the gate,
Embost a little bigger then the rest,
All are enricht with stones of great estate,
The best and richest growing in the East,
In parted quadrons, with a seemely rate,
The collons diamonds as may be guest:
I say not whether counterfait or true,
But shine they did like diamonds in view.
72
About these stately pillars and betweene
Are wanton damsels gadding to and fro,
And as their age, so are their garments greene,
The blacke oxe hath not yet trod on their toe,
Had vertue with that beautie tempred beene,
It would have made the substance like the show:
These maids with curteous speech and manners nice
Welcome Rogero to this Paradise.
73
If so I may a Paradise it name,
Where love and lust have built their habitation,
Where time well spent is counted as a shame,
No wise staid thought, no care of estimation,
Nor nought but courting, dauncing, play and game,
Disguised clothes, each day a sundry fashion,
No vertuous labour doth this people please,
But nice apparrell, bellycheare and ease.
74
Their aire is alway temperate and cleare,
And wants both winters storms, and summers heate,
As though that Aprill lasted all the yeare,
Some one by fountaines side doth take his seate,
And there with fained voice and carelesse cheare,
Some sonnet made of love he doth repeate:
Some others, other where with other fashions,
Describe unto their loves their loving passions.
75
And Cupid then, the captaine of the crew,
Triumphs upon the captives he hath got,
And more and more his forces to renew,
Supplies with fresh the arrowes he hath shot,
With which he hits (his levell is so true)
And wounds full deepe, although it bleedeth not:
This is the place to which Rogero went,
And these the things to which our youth is bent.
76
Then straight a stately steed of colour bay,
Well limbd and strong was to Rogero brought,
And deckt with faire capparison most gay,
With gold and pearle and jewels richly wrought,
The Griffeth horse (that whilome to obey
The spurre and bit was by Atlanta taught)
Because his journey long required rest,
Was carrid to a stable to be drest.
77
The Ladies faire that had the knight defended,
From that same wicked and ungratious band,
Which as you heard at large before pretended,
Rogeros passage stoutly to withstand,
Told now Rogero how that they intended,
Because his valew great they understand,
Of him to crave his furtherance and aid,
Against their fo that made them oft afraid.
78
There is (quoth they) a bridge amid our way,
To which we are already verie nie,
Where one Erifila doth all she may,
To damage and annoy the passers by,
A Giantesse she is, she lives by pray,
Her fashions are to fight, deceive and lye:
Her teeth be long, her visage rough with heare,
Her nayles be sharpe, and scratching like a Beare.
79
The harme is great this monster vile doth doe,
To stop the way that but for her were free,
She spils and spoiles, she cares not what nor who,
That griefe to heare, and pittie is to see:
And for to adde more hatred hereunto,
Know this, that all yon monsters you did see,
Are to this monster either sonnes or daughters,
And live like her by robberies and slaughters.
80
Rogero thus in curteous sort replide,
Faire Ladies gladly I accept your motion,
If other service I may do beside,
You may command, I stand at your devotion:
For this I weare this coat and blade well tride,
Not to procure me riches or promotion,
But to defend from injurie and wrong,
All such as have their enemies too strong.
81
The Ladies did Rogero greatly thanke,
As well deservd so stout and brave a Knight,
That proferd at the first request so franke,
Against the gyantesse for them to fight.
Now they drew nye unto the rivers banke,
When as Erifila came out in sight:
But they that in this story take some pleasure,
May heare the rest of it at further leasure.
ARGUMENT
THE SEVENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
When foule Erifila was overcome,
Rogero guided by two stately dames,
Unto Alcynas sumptuous court doth come,
Where he his time in pleasure spends and games;
Melissa him rebukes, he standeth dumme,
And at her true reproofes he greatly shames.
In fine, by her good counsell and direction,
He frees himselfe from that most foule subjection.
SEVENTH BOOKE
1
All they that to far countries do resort,
Shall see strange sights, in earth, in seas, in skies,
Which when againe at home they shall report,
Their solemne tales, esteemed are as lyes.
For why the fond and simple common sort,
Beleeve but what they feele or see with eyes,
Therefore to them, my tale may seeme a fable,
Whose wits to understand it are not able.
2
But carelesse what the simple sots surmise,
If they shall deeme it a device or deede,
Yet sure to those that are discreete and wise,
It will no wonder nor no passion breed:
Wherefore my tale to such I do devise,
And wish them to the same to take good heed,
For some there are, may fortune in this booke,
As in a glasse their acts and haps to looke.
3
For many men with hope and show of pleasure,
Are carrid far in foolish fond conceit,
And wast their pretious time, & spend their treasure,
Before they can discover this deceit.
O happie they that keepe within their measure,
To turne their course in time, and sound retreit,
Before that wit with late repentance taught,
Were better never had then so deare bought.
4
A little while before I did reherse,
How that Rogero by two dames was brought,
To combat with Erifila the feerse,
Who for to stop the bridge and passage sought.
In vaine it were for to declare in verse,
How sumptuously her armor all was wrought,
All set with stones, and guilt with Indian gold,
Both fit for use, and pleasant to behold.
5
She mounted was, but not upon a steed,
Insteed thereof she on a Wolfe doth sit,
A Wolfe whose match Apulia doth not breed,
Well taught to hand, although she usd no bit,
And all of sandie colour was her weed,
Her armes were thus (for such a champion fit)
An ugly Tode was painted on her shield,
With poyson swolne, and in a sable field.
6
Now each the other forthwith had descride,
And each with other then prepard to fight,
Then each the other scornefully defide,
Each seekes to hurt the other all he might.
But she unable his fierce blowes to bide,
Beneath the vizer smitten was so right:
That from her seat sixe paces she was heaved,
And lay like one of life and sense bereaved.
7
Rogero readie was to draw his sword,
To head the monster lying on the sand,
Untill those dames with many a gentle word,
Asswagd his heat and made him hold his hand:
He might in honour now her life affoord,
Sith at his mercie wholly she doth stand:
Wherefore sir Knight put up your blade (say they)
Lets passe the bridge and follow on our way.
8
The way as yet unpleasant was and ill,
Among the thornie bushes and betweene,
All stony, steep, ascending up the hill,
A way lesse pleasant seldome hath been seene:
But this once past according to their will,
And they now mounted up upon the greene,
They saw the fairest castle standing by,
That ere was seene with any mortall eye.
9
Alcyna met them at the outer gate,
And came before the rest a little space,
And with a countnance full of high estate,
Salutes Rogero with a goodly grace,
And all the other courtiers in like rate,
Do bid Rogero welcome to the place,
With so great showes of duty and of love,
As if some god descended from above.
10
Nor onely was this pallace for the sight,
Most goodly, faire, and stately to behold,
But that the peoples courtsie bred delight,
Which was as great as could with tongue be told.
All were of youth and beautie shining bright,
Yet to confirme this thing I dare be bold,
That faire Alcyna past the rest as farre,
As doth the Sunne another little starre.
11
A shape whose like in waxe twere hard to frame,
Or to expresse by skill of painters rare.
Her haire was long, and yellow to the same,
As might with wire of beaten gold compare:
Her lovely cheekes with shew of modest shame,
With roses and with lillies painted are,
Her forehead faire and full of seemely cheare,
As smooth as polisht Ivory doth appeare.
12
Within two arches of most curious fashion,
Stand two gray eyes, that like to cleare suns shind,
Of stedie looke, but apt to take compassion,
Amid which lights, the naked boy and blind,
Doth cast his darts that cause so many a passion,
And leave a sweet and curelesse wound behind:
From thence the nose in such good sort descended,
As envie knowes not how it may be mended.
13
Conjoynd to which in due and comely space,
Doth stand the mouth staind with Vermilion hew,
Two rowes of precious perle serve in their place,
To show and shut, a lip right faire to vew:
Hence come the courteous words, and full of grace,
That mollifie hard hearts and make them new:
From hence proceed those smilings sweet and nice,
That seeme to make, an earthly paradice.
14
Her brest as milke, her necke as white as snow,
Her necke was round, most plum and large her brest
Two Ivory apples seemed there to grow,
Full tender smooth, and fittest to be prest:
They wave like seas, when winds most calme doth blow,
But Argos selfe might not discerne the rest,
Yet by presumption well it might be gest,
That that which was concealed was the best.
15
Her armes due measure of proportion bare,
Her faire white hand was to be viewed plaine,
The fingers long, the joynts so curious are,
As neither knot appeard nor swelling vaine.
And full to perfect all those features rare,
The foote that to be scene doth so remaine,
Both slender, short, little it was and round,
A finer foote might no where well be found.
16
She had on every side prepard a net,
If so she walke, or laugh, or sing, or stand:
Rogero now the counsell doth forget,
He had receivd late at Astolfos hand:
He doth at nought those wholsome precepts set,
That warned him to shun Alcynas land,
He thought no fraud, no treason nor no guile,
Could be accompanid with so sweete a smile.
17
The dame of France, whom he so loved erst,
He quite forgets, so farre awry he swarved:
The tale Astolfo had to him reherst,
He thinketh false, or else by him desarved:
Alcynas goodly shape his heart so perst,
She onely seemd a mistresse to be sarved:
Ne must you blame Rogeros inclination,
But rather blame the force of incantation.
18
Now as abrode the stately courts did sound,
Of trumpets, shagbot, cornets, and of flutes,
Even so within there wants no pleasing sound,
Of virginals, of vials and of lutes,
Upon the which persons not few were found,
That did record their loves and loving sutes,
And in some song of love and wanton verse,
Their good or ill successes did reherse.
19
As for the sumptuous and luxurious fare,
I thinke not they that Nynus did succeed,
Nor Cleopatra faire, whose riot rare,
To Antonie such love and losse did breed,
Might with Alcynas any way compare,
Whose love did all the others farre exceed,
So deepely was she ravisht in the sight,
Of this so valiant and so comely Knight.
20
The supper done, and tables tane away,
To purposes and such like toyes they went,
Each one to other secretly to say
Some word, by which some pretie toy is ment,
This helpt the lovers better to bewray
Each unto other what was their intent,
For when the word was hither tost and thither,
Their last conclusion was to lie together.
21
These prettie kinds of amorous sports once ended,
With torches to his chamber he was brought,
On him a crew of gallant squires attended,
That every way to do him honour sought.
The chambers furniture could not be mended.
It seemd Arachne had the hangings wrought,
A blanket new was made, the which once finishd,
The company by one and one diminishd.
22
Now was Rogero couched in his bed,
Betweene a paire of cambricke sheets perfumed,
And oft he hearkens with his wakefull hed,
For her whose love his heart and soule consumed:
Each little noise hope of her comming bred,
Which finding false, against himselfe he fumed,
And curst the cause that did him so much wrong,
To cause Alcyna tarry thence so long.
23
Sometime from bed he softly doth arise,
And looke abroad if he might her espie,
Sometime he with himselfe doth thus devise,
Now she is comming, now she drawes thus nie:
Sometime for very anger out he cries,
What meaneth she, she doth no faster hie?
Sometimes he casts least any let should be,
Betweene his hand and this desired tree.
24
But faire Alcyna, when with odors sweet,
She was perfumd according to her skill,
The time once come she deemed fit and meet,
When all the house were now asleepe and still:
With rich embroderd slippers on her feet,
She goes to give and take of joyes her fill,
To him whom hope and feare so long assailed,
Till sleepe drew on, and hope and feare both failed.
25
Now when Astolfos successor espide
Those earthly starres, her faire and heavnly eyes,
As sulphur once in flamed cannot hide,
Even so the mettall in his veines that lies,
So flamd that in the skin it scant could bide:
But of a sodaine straight he doth arise,
Leaps out of bed, and her in armes embraced,
Ne would he stay till she her selfe unlaced.
26
So utterly impatient of all stay,
That though her mantle was but cyprous light,
And next upon her smocke of lawne it lay.
Yet so the champion hasted to the fight,
The mantle with his fury fell away,
And now the smocke remaind alone in sight,
Which smocke as plaine her beauties all discloses,
As doth a glasse the lillies faire and roses.
27
And looke how close the Ivie doth embrace
The tree or branch about the which it growes,
So close the lovers couched in the place,
Each drawing in the breath the other blowes:
But how great joyes they found that little space,
We well may guesse, but none for certaine knowes:
Their sport was such, so well their leere they couth,
That oft they had two tongues within one mouth.
28
Now though they keepe this close with great regard,
Yet not so close but some did find the same,
For though that vertue oft wants due reward,
Yet seldome vice wants due deserved blame.
Rogero still was more and more prefard
Each one to him with cap and courtsie came,
For faire Alcyna being now in love,
Would have him plast the others all above.
29
In pleasure here they spend the night and day,
They change their clothes so often as they lust,
Within they feast, they dance, disport and play,
Abroad they hunt, they hauke, they ride, they just,
And so while sensuall life doth beare the sway,
All discipline is troden in the dust.
Thus while Rogero here his time mispends,
He quite forgets his dutie and his frends.
30
For while Rogero bides in feast and joy,
King Agramant doth take great care and paine,
Dame Bradamant doth suffer great annoy,
And traveld farre to finde him all in vaine:
She little knew Alcyna did enjoy
Her due delights, yet doth she mone and plaine,
To thinke how strangely this same flying horse,
Bare him away against his will by force.
31
In townes, in fields, in hils, in dales she sought,
In tents, in campes, in lodgings and in caves,
Oft she enquird, but yet she learned nought,
She past the rivers fresh and salt sea waves,
Among the Turkes she leaves him not unsought,
(Gramercy ring that her from danger saves:)
A ring whose vertue workes a thing scant possible,
Which holding in her mouth she goes invisible.
32
She will not, nor she cannot thinke him dead,
For if a man of so great worth should die,
It would some great report or fame have bred,
From East unto the West, both farre and nie:
It cannot sinke nor settle in her head,
Whether he be in seas, in earth or skie,
Yet still she seekes, and her companions are
Sorrowes and sighes, and feares, and loving care.
33
At last she meanes to turne unto the cave,
Where lie the great and learned Merlins bones,
And at that tombe to crie so loud and rave,
As shall with pitie move the marble stones:
Nor till she may some certaine notice have
Of her belovd to stay her plaints and mones,
In hope to bring her purpose to effect,
By doing as that Prophet should direct.
34
Now as her course to Poytiers ward she bent,
Melyssa using wonted skill and art,
Encountred her, her journey to prevent,
Who knew full well, and did to her impart,
Both where he was, and how his time he spent,
Which grievd the vertuous damsell to the hart,
That such a Knight, so valiant erst and wise,
Should so be drownd in pleasure and in vice.
35
O poysond hooke that lurkes in sugred bait,
O pleasures vaine, that in this world are found,
Which like a subtile theefe do lie in waite,
To swallow man in sinke of sinne profound:
O Kings and peeres, beware of this deceit.
And be not in this gulfe of pleasure dround:
The time will come, and must I tell you all,
When these your joyes shall bitter seeme as gall.
36
Then turne your cloth of gold to clothes of heares,
Your feasts to fasts, to sorrowes turne your songs,
Your wanton toyes and smilings into teares,
To restitution turne your doing wrongs,
Your fond securenesse turne to godly feares,
And know that vengeance unto God belongs,
Who when he comes to judge the soules of men,
It will be late alas to mend it then.
37
Then shall the vertuous man shine like the sunne,
Then shall the vicious man repent his pleasure,
Then one good deed of almes sincerely done,
Shall be more worth then mines of Indian treasure,
Then sentence shall be givn which none shall shun,
Then God shall wey and pay our deeds by measure;
Unfortunate and thrice accursed thay,
Whom fond delights do make forget that day.
38
But to returne unto my tale againe,
I say Melyssa tooke no little care,
To draw Rogero by some honest traine,
From this same place of feasts and dainty fare,
And like a faithfull friend refusd no paine,
To set him free from her sweet senslesse snare,
To which his unkle brought him with intent
His destinie thereby for to prevent.
39
As oft we see men are so fond and blind,
To carry to their sonnes too much affection,
That when they seeme to love, they are unkind,
(For they do hate a child that spare correction)
So did Atlanta, not with evill mind,
Give to Rogero this so bad direction,
But of a purpose, thereby to withdraw
His fatall end that he before foresaw.
40
For this he sent him past so many seas,
Unto the Ile that I before did name,
Esteeming lesse his honour then his ease,
A few yeares life then everlasting fame.
For this he caused him so well to please
Alcyna that same rich lascivious dame;
That though his time old Nestors life had finishd,
Yet her affection should not be diminishd.
41
But good Melyssa on a ground more sure,
That lovd his honor better then his weale,
By sound perswasions meanes him to procure,
From pleasures court to vertues to appeale:
As leeches good that in a desperate cure,
With steele, with flame, and oft with poison heale,
Of which although the patient do complaine,
Yet at the last he thankes him for his paine.
42
And thus Melyssa promised her aid,
And helpe Rogero backe againe to bring,
Which much recomforted the noble maid,
That lovd this Knight above each earthly thing.
But for the better doing this (she said)
It were behovefull that he had her ring,
Whose vertue was that who so did it weare,
Should never need the force of charmes to feare.
43
But Bradamant that would not, onely spare
Her ring (to do him good) but eke her hart,
Commends the ring and him unto her care,
And so these Ladies take their leave and part.
Melissa for her journey doth prepare,
By her well tried skill in Magicke art,
A beast that might supply her present lacke,
That had one red foot and another blacke.
44
Such hast she made, that by the breake of day
She was arrived in Alcynas Ile,
But straight she changd her shape and her array,
That she Rogero better might beguile:
Her stature tall she makes, her head all gray,
A long white beard she takes to hide the wile,
In fine she doth so cunningly dissemble,
That she the old Atlanta doth resemble.
45
And in this sort she waiteth till she might
By fortune find Rogero in fit place,
Which very seldome hapt, for day and night
He stood so high in faire Alcynas grace,
That she could least abide of any wight,
To have him absent but a minute space,
At last full early in a morning faire,
She spide him walke abroade to take the aire.
46
About his necke a carkneet rich he ware,
Of precious stones, all set in gold well tride,
His armes that erst all warlike weapons bare,
In golden bracelets wantonly were tide:
Into his eares two rings conveyed are,
Of golden wire, at which on either side
Two Indian pearles in making like two peares,
Of passing price were pendent at his eares.
47
His locks bedewd with waters of sweet savour,
Stood curled round in order on his hed,
He had such wanton womanish behaviour,
As though in Valence he had long bene bred:
So changd in speech, in manners and in favour,
So from himselfe, beyond all reason led,
By these inchantments of this amrous dame,
He was himselfe in nothing but in name.
48
Which when the wise and kind Melyssa saw,
(Resembling still Atlantas person sage)
Of whom Rogero alwayes stood in aw,
Even from his tender youth to elder age,
She toward him with looke austere did draw,
And with a voice abrupt, as halfe in rage,
Is this (quoth she) the guerdon and the gaine,
I find for all my travell and my paine?
49
What wast for this that I in youth thee fed,
With marrow of the Beares and Lions fell?
That I through caves and deserts have thee led,
Where serpents of most ugly shape do dwell,
Where Tygers fierce and cruell Leopards bred,
And taught thee how their forces all to quell:
An Atis or Adonis for to be,
Unto Alcyna as I now thee see.
50
Was this foreshewd by those observed starres,
By figures and nativities oft cast,
By dreames, by oracles that never arres,
By those vaine arts I studide in time past,
That thou shouldst prove so rare a man in warres,
Whose famous deeds to endlesse praise should last?
Whose acts should honord be both farre and neare,
And not be matcht with such another peare.
51
Is this a meane or ready way you trow?
Which other worthy men have trod before,
A Caesar or a Scipio to grow,
And to increase in honor more and more?
But to the end a man may certaine know,
How thrall thou art unto Alcynas lore,
Thou wearest here her chaines and slavish bands,
With which she binds thy warlike armes and hands.
52
If thou regard not thine owne estimation,
To which the heavns ordaine thee if thou would,
Defraud not yet thine heires and generation,
Of which I have thee oftentime foretold,
Appointed by eterne predestination,
Except thou do their due from them withhold,
Out of thy loines and bowels to proceed
Such men whose match the world did never breed.
53
Let not so many a worthy soule and mind,
Framd by the wisedome of the heavnly King,
Be hindred of the bodies them assignd,
Whose ofspring chiefe must of thy issue spring:
Be not unto thine owne blood so unkind,
Of whose great triumphs all the world shall ring,
Whose successors, whose children and posterity,
Shall helpe our country to her old prosperity.
54
What good hath this great Queene unto thee done,
But many other queanes can do the same?
What certaine gaine is by her service wonne,
That soone doth fancie, sooner doth defame?
Wherefore to make thee know what thou hast done,
That of thy doings thou maist have some shame,
But weare this ring, and next time you repaire
To your Alcyna, marke if she be faire.
55
Rogero all abasht and mute did stand,
With silent tongue, and looke for shame downe cast,
The good enchantresse tooke him by the hand,
And on his finger straight the ring she plast,
But when this ring had made him understand
His owne estate, he was so sore agast,
He wisht himselfe halfe buride under ground,
Much rather then in such place once be found.
56
But she that saw her speech tooke good effect,
And that Rogero shamed of his sinne,
She doth her person and her name detect,
And as her selfe (not Atlant) doth beginne,
By counsell and advice him to direct,
To rid himselfe from this so dangerous ginne:
And gives him perfect notice and instruction,
How these deceits do bring men to destruction.
57
She shewd him plainly she was thither sent,
By Bradamant that lovd him in sinceritie,
Who to deliver him from bondage ment,
Of her that blinded him with false prosperity.
How she tooke Atlants person to thintent
Her countenance might carry more austeritie,
But finding now him home reducd againe,
She saith she will declare the matter plaine.
58
And unto him forthwith she doth impart,
How that faire dame that best deservd his love,
Did send that ring, and would have sent her hart,
If so her heart his good so farre might move,
The ring this vertue had, it could subvert
All magick frauds, and make them vaine to prove:
Rogero as I said, no time did linger,
But put the ring upon his little finger.
59
When truth appeard, Rogero hated more
Alcynas trumpries, and did them detest,
Then he was late enamored before,
(O happie ring that makes the bearer blest)
Now saw he that he could not see before,
How with deceits Alcyna had bene drest,
Her borrowd beauties, all appeared stained,
The painting gone, nothing but filth remained.
60
Evn as a child that taking from the tree
An apple ripe, and hides it in some place,
When he returnes the same againe to see,
After a senight or a fortnights space,
Doth scant beleeve it should the same fruite be,
When rottennesse that ripenesse doth deface,
And where before delight in it he tooke,
Now scant he bides upon the same to looke.
61
Evn so Rogero plainly now descride,
Alcynas foule disgraces and enormitie,
Because of this his ring she could not hide,
By all her paintings any one deformitie:
He saw most plainly that in her did bide,
Unto her former beauties no conformity,
But lookes so ugly, that from East to West,
Was not a fouler old misshapen beast,
62
Her face was wan, a leane and writhled skin,
Her stature scant three horseloaves did exceed:
Her haire was gray of hue, and very thin,
Her teeth were gone, her gums servd in their steed,
No space was there between her nose and chin,
Her noisome breath contagion would breed,
In fine, of her it might have well bene said,
In Nestors youth she was a pretie maid.
63
I feare her arts are learned now a dayes,
To counterfait their haire and paint their skin,
But reasons ring their crafts and guiles bewrayes,
No wise men of their paintings passe a pin,
Those vertues that in women merit praise,
Are sober shewes without, chast thoughts within,
True faith and due obedience to their make,
And of their children honest care to take.
64
Now though Rogero (as before I sed)
Detested sore the ugly witches sight,
Yet by Melyssas counsell wisely led,
He doth conceale the matter for a night,
Till of provision he were better sped,
With which he might more safely take his flight,
And taking care his meaning close to hide,
He doth forthwith his armour all provide.
65
And tels Alcyna he would go and trie,
If that he were not waxen grosse or no,
Because that idle he so long did lie,
And never fought with any armed fo:
His sword unto his girdle he doth tie,
With armour on, a walking he doth go,
And with a scarfe about his arme he lapt
The shield that in the cypresse case was wrapt.
66
And thus arraid, he commeth to the stable,
And tooke a horse (as wise Melyssa taught)
A horse as blacke as any jeat or sable,
So made as if in waxe he had bene wrought,
Most swift for course, and strong of limbes and able,
This horse hight Rabican was thither brought
By Duke Astolfo, who by sorcerie
Was turned late into a mirtle tree.
67
As for the Griffeth horse that there was by,
Melyssa wisheth him to let him stand,
And sayth, that she her selfe ere long would trie,
To make him gentle to the spur and hand:
And that she would hereafter time espie,
To bring it him, and let him understand,
How he should do with very little paine,
To make him yeeld to spurre, to rod and raine.
68
She further said, his flight would be suspected,
Except he let the flying horse to stay,
Rogero none of all her words neglected,
But did her counsell wise and sage obay:
And so before his meaning was detected,
From this misshapen hag he stole away,
And meanes (if God will grant him so much grace)
To be at Logistillas in short space.
69
Such men of armes as watched at the gate
He slue, the rest he sodainly assailed,
Good was his hap that scapt with broken pate,
They tooke their heeles when as their hearts them failed.
Alcyna now had notice all too late,
Rogero was so farre it nought availed:
But in another booke shall be contained,
How him dame Logestilla entertained.
ARGUMENT
THE EIGHT BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Rogero fled: Melissa after staid,
Astolfo with some others to restore:
Renaldo musters souldiers sent for aid,
To Charles the great, who never needed more:
Angelica by drowsie hermit laid,
Is tane and bound all naked to the floore
Orlando is so troubled with his dreame,
He leaves the service of his King and reame.
EIGHT BOOKE
1
Oh strange enchantments used now adayes,
Oh charmers strange among us dayly found,
That find so many charms and subtle waies,
Wherewith they hold fond lovers hearts fast bound,
Not with conjured spirits that they raise,
Nor knowledge of the stars and skill profound,
But blinding mens conceits, and them fast tying,
With simulation, fraud, deceit and lying.
2
But he that had the rule and ring of reason,
Should soone their frauds, their crafts and guiles discover,
And finde a hoord of foule and lothsome treason,
To lurke within the shew of such a lover:
Well may they seeme most lovely for a season,
When all their wrinkles they with painting cover,
But unto men of wit and reason learned,
Their subtleties shall quickly be discerned.
3
Rogero (as I said) in secret sort,
With Rabican out of the castle went,
And made the watch and guard unpleasant sport,
That most of them his comming might repent:
Some had their armes, and some their heads cut short,
All put to flight, the gates in peeces rent.
And then unto the wood he entred, when
He met by chance one of Alcynas men.
4
This man did beare a faulcon on his fist,
With which he went on hauking day by day,
To flie in field, or river as he list,
The countrie full of game still yeelded pray,
He had a spaniell could not well be mist,
And eke a hauking nagge not very gay,
And meeting good Rogero halfe disguised,
That he was fled away he straight surmised.
5
The servant rideth on, and at their meeting,
He askt Rogero why he rode so fast,
Rogero gave him very slender greeting,
As though on such a squire he little past:
Well (quoth the faulkner) though thou now art fleeting,
I trust ere long to shew thee such a cast,
That with my dogge, my faulcon and my horse,
I do not doubt to fetch thee backe by force.
6
And first he lets the faulcon take her flight,
But Rabican as fast as she did flie,
Then from his horse the faulkner doth alight,
His horse flue like an arrow by and by.
Then went the dogge, who was of course so light,
As is the wind that bloweth in the skie:
And last of all himselfe ran with such shift,
It seemd the lightnings flame was not so swift.
7
Rogero thinketh it a foule disgrace,
That any man should thinke he fled for feare,
And more because he now was had in chase;
Wherefore he doth a while the flight forbeare,
And manfully to them he turnes his face,
And seeing no man but the faulkner there,
And that no weapon in his hand he saw,
He much disdaind on him his sword to draw.
8
But straight the dog doth bite his horses heeles,
The hauke his head amazed with her wings.
When Rabycan such strange foes forces feeles,
He riseth up before, behinde he flings:
Rogero thought the world had run on wheeles,
And Balisarda out at once he brings,
But they, it seemd so well were seene in fence,
That all his blowes to them brought no offence.
9
Both loth to stay, resolved not to yeeld,
He takes his target from his saddle bow,
And with the dazling light of that same sheeld,
Whose force Melyssa lately made him know,
He made them fall as if their eyes were seeld,
So that no farther let from them did grow,
But having vanquisht them this wise with ease,
He now may ride at leasure where he please.
10
These foes once foild their forces overcome,
Alcyna straight had notice of his flight,
For of the watchmen one to her was come,
That while these things were done did stand in sight.
This made her stand like one halfe dead or dumme,
And after put her into such a fright,
That forthwith for avoiding further harme,
Through all the towne she made them crie alarme.
11
And calling oft her selfe a foolish beast,
Because Rogero so from her was slipt,
Sometime she beats her head, her face and breast,
Sometime in rage her garments all she ript:
She calleth all her men from most to least,
A part of whom unto the sea she shipt,
And of the rest she makes a mighty band,
To fetch Rogero backe againe by land.
12
All were so busie to this service bent,
That none remaind the pallace faire to gard,
Which greatly helpt Melyssas good intent,
Which chiefly was as you before have hard,
To set at large poore prisoners so long pent,
Which now to do (she absent) was not hard,
Dissolving all her circles and her knots,
And stroying all her figures and her lots.
13
And thus in fields, in houses, and in woods,
She set at large as many as she found,
That had beene turnd to trees, to stones and floods,
And in that state by magicke art fast bound:
Likewise to them she rendred all their goods,
Who when they saw themselves so cleare unbound,
Departing thence with all the hast they might,
To Logestilla they arrivd that night.
14
And first of all and chiefe of all the rest,
The English Duke came to himselfe againe,
Because Rogero lovd and wisht him best,
And lends the ring that makes inchantments vaine.
But good Melyssa could by no meanes rest,
Untill she could his armour eke regaine,
And that same famous worthie guilded launce,
That had to him such honor done in Fraunce.
15
With which Argalia got no little fame,
Who used oft the same in fight to beare.
Now when Melyssa to the castle came,
She found his other armour with the speare,
And this atcheevd, the sage and friendly dame
Mounts on the Griffith horse without all feare,
And Duke Astolfo mounting on his crupper,
To Logestillas came that night to supper.
16
Now was Rogero with no small ado,
Tiring himselfe amid those craggie wayes,
And striving all that he with paine may do,
To cut off all those lothsome long delayes,
That hindred him for sooner comming to
That Ladie faire whose vertues merit praise,
Till neare the Southerne sea with mickle paine,
He came unto a sandy desert plaine.
17
Here was he plagud with thirst and parching heat,
And with the sunne reflecting on the sand,
Which from the South upon the banke did beat,
Enflaming still the aire on either hand,
But leaving now Rogero in this sweat,
That still I may not in one matter stand.
To Scotland now I will returne againe,
And of Renaldo talke a word or twaine.
18
Great was his entertainment and his cheare,
Made by the King and people of the land,
Which feasts once done, the worthy valiant peare,
As was his charge, doth let them understand,
How Charles the great, whose state doth touch them neare
In no small need of their good aid did stand,
And how for this he sent him to their nation,
And to this tale he ads an exhortation.
19
Then was it answerd him without delay,
That for King Charls and for the Empires sake,
They all were ready to do all they may,
And would for this behoofe short order take,
And offred him to shew (if he would stay)
What store of horse and footmen he could make:
Namely the King himselfe would be right glad,
To go in person, but his age forbad.
20
Nor yet should age with him so much have done,
As make him from the battell to abide,
Save that he had a wife and valiant sonne,
Well able such a band of men to guide,
Whose value had already praises wonne,
And of his youth was now in floure and pride.
This noble toward impe he doth intend,
As captaine of his armed men to send.
21
Wherefore about his realme forthwith he sent,
To get of horses and of men good store,
With ships, and things to war most pertinent,
As needfull meate, and mony needfull more:
The while Renaldo into England went,
The King to Barwicke companie him bore,
And men report that when they should depart,
The King was seene to weepe for tender hart.
22
Renaldo went with faire and prosprous wind,
And past along upon the English coast,
Untill he hapt the noble Tems to find,
Of which all London justly make their boast:
Here he tooke land as first he had assignd,
And in twelve houres journey riding post,
Unto the Prince of Wales he was conducted,
Whom of these matters fully he instructed.
23
The Prince that was Vicegerent to the King,
(That Oton hight) who sojournd now in France,
From whom Renaldo did commission bring,
To take up horse, and men, and ordinance:
When he had once true knowledge of that thing,
Which of all other he would most advance:
He marshald men of armes without delay,
And points them meet at Callice by a day.
24
But here I must a while from hence digresse,
Lest to one tale my pen should still be bound,
As good musitians do their skill expresse,
By playing on the strings of divers sound:
While Renald here is cheard with great excesse,
(As ever in the English land is found)
I meane to tell how that faire Lady sped,
That twice before from this Renaldo fled.
25
I told you how Angelica the bright,
Fled from Renaldo in a thicke dark wood,
How on a Hermit there she hapt to light,
And how her sight revivd his aged blood:
But she that tooke in him but small delight,
Whose hoary haires could do her little good,
With this good Hermit made but little stay,
But turnd her horses rains and went away.
26
The Hermit seeing he contemned was,
(Whom age long since, and love did newly blind)
Doth spurre a thousand times his silly asse,
Who still remained more and more behind,
And sith he saw he could not bring to passe,
To stop her course (afflicted much in mind)
In vaine he doth his poore asse beate and curse,
His trot was very bad, his gallop worse.
27
And being out of hope of comming nire,
As having almost lost her horses tracke,
He studies now to compasse his desire,
With some rare stratageme to bring her back:
Unto that art forthwich he doth retire,
(That damned art that is surnamed blacke)
And by his bookes of magicke he doth make,
A little sprite the Lady overtake.
28
And as the hound that men the Tumbler name,
When he a hare or cony doth espie,
Doth seeme another way his course to frame,
As though he meant not to approch more nie,
But yet he meeteth at the last his game,
And shaketh it untill he make it die:
So doth the Hermit traverse all about,
At evry turne to find the damsell out.
29
What he intends to do, full well I wot,
And meane ere long the same to you to show,
The damsell travelld still that knew it not,
The spright to do his office was not slow,
For straight within the horse himselfe he got,
As she on sands of Gascoigne seas did go,
The spright that fully had possest the horse,
Did drive her to the sea with all his force.
30
Which when the faire and fearefull damsell saw,
Although she tride full oft with rod and raine,
Her palfrey from his dangerous course to draw,
Yet seeing plainly she did strive in vaine,
With colour changd for anguish and for aw,
And casting oft her looke to land againe,
At last she sitteth still, nor further striveth,
For needs they must go whom the divell driveth.
31
In vaine it was to strike the horse her bare,
It was not done by that poore palfreis falt,
Wherefore she tucks her garments, taking care
Lest they should be bedewd with waters salt,
Upon her haire, which then all loose she ware,
The aire doth make an amorous assalt,
The greater winds were still, I thinke of duty,
That they acknowledge to so rare a beauty.
32
The waters more, the land still lesse she sees,
At last she saw but one small peece of land,
And that small peece in small time she doth leese,
Now sees she neither shore nor any sand.
Then cold despaire all lively hope did freese,
When as her horse did turne to the right hand,
And at the twilight, or not long before,
Did bring her to a solitary shore.
33
Here she remaining helplesse and alone,
Among the fruitlesse trees and senslesse rocks,
Standing her selfe all like the marble stone,
Save that sometime she tare her golden locks,
At last her eyes to teares, her tongue to mone,
She doth resolve, her faire soft breast she knocks,
And blames the God of heavn and power divine
That did the fates unto her fall incline.
34
O fortune, fortune (thus the damsell cride)
Fill now thy rage and execute thine ire,
And take this life that takest all beside,
And let my death accomplish thy desire:
I have and daily do thy force abide,
Feare still my mind, travell my limbs doth tire,
And makes me think in this great storme and strife,
That death were sweet to shorten such a life.
35
Can all thy malice do me further spite?
Can any state be worse or more unstedy?
That am from princely scepter banisht quite,
A helplesse hap and hurt past all remedy,
And worse then this, mine honor shining bright
Is stained sore, and evn defast alredy,
For though in act no ill I ever wrought,
Yet wandring thus will make men think me nought.
36
What can a woman hold of any price,
If once she leese her honor and good name?
Alas I hate this beautie and despise,
And wish it never had bene of such fame:
Ne do I for this gift now thanke the skies,
By which my spoile and utter ruine came,
Which causd my brother Argal shed his blood,
Ne could his armes enchanted do him good.
37
For this the King of Tartar Agricane,
Sought of my father Galafron the spoile,
Who whilome was in India cald great Cane,
And after dide with sorrow of the foile.
For this I dayly doubting to be tane,
From place to place do passe with endlesse toile,
And now to loose alas what hast thou left me,
Since fame, and goods, and friends are all bereft me?
38
If drowning in the sea were not a death
Severe enough to quench thy raging spite,
Then send some beast out of this desert heath,
To teare my limbs and to devoure me quite:
I shall thee thanke for stopping of my breath,
If to torment me thou have no delight,
These wofull words utterd the Ladie bright,
When straight the hermit came within her sight.
39
Who all the while had in a corner stood,
And heard her make this piteous plaint and mone,
Proceeding from her sad and mourning mood,
Enough to move a heart as hard as stone:
It did the senex fornicator good,
To thinke that he was there with her alone,
Yet so devoutly commeth this old carrion,
As though it had bene Paul or Saint Hillarion.
40
When as the damsell saw a man appeare,
In such a desert solitary place,
She straight began to be of better cheare,
Though feare and dread appeare still in her face:
And with a voice so loud as he might heare,
She praid him pitie this her wofull case,
Recounting all her dangers overblowne,
To him to whom they were already knowne.
41
No sooner had the hermit heard her out,
But straight to comfort her he doth begin,
And shewes by many reasons and devout,
How all these plagues were sent her for her sin:
The while he puts his sawcie hands about,
Sometime her breasts, sometime her neck and chin,
And more and more still gathering heart of grace,
He offers boldly her for to embrace.
42
But she that much disdaind this homely fashion,
Doth staine her cheekes with red for very shame,
Thrust back his carren corpes without compassion,
Reviling him with many a spitefull name,
Who testy with old age and with new passion,
That did him now with wrath and love inflame,
Drawes out a bottle of a strange confection,
That sleepe procureth by a strong infection.
43
With this he sprinkleth both the damsels eies,
(Those eyes whence Cupid oft his arrowes shet)
Straight sound asleepe the goodly damsell lies,
Subjected to the will of such a sot:
Ne yet for ought he did or could devise,
He could procure his curtall stir a jot,
Yet oft he kist her lips, her cheekes, her brest,
And felt and saw the beauties of the rest.
44
The dullerd jade still hangeth downe his head,
Sturring or spurring could not make him praunce,
The sundrier wayes he said, the worse he sped,
His youthfull dayes were done, he could not daunce,
His strength was gone, his courage all was dead,
His weapon looked like a broken launce:
And while himselfe in vaine he thus doth cumber,
He falleth downe by her into a slumber.
45
But now another evill chance befell,
(For one ill turne alone is seldome done)
The which to thend I may the better tell,
Know this, about the setting of the sunne,
There is an Ile, Ebuda as men tell,
Whose habitants are welnigh all undone,
By meanes that mightie Proteus thither sent
An Orke that doth the people teare and rent.
46
Within this Ile, as auncient stories tell,
(I not affirme how false they are or true)
Sometime a King of mightie powre did dwell,
That had a daughter passing faire of hue,
The which faire Ladie Proteus likt so well,
When her on sands in walking he did vew,
That though he dwelt in waters salt and cold,
Yet fresh hot love on him had taken hold.
47
Which heate when all the sea could not asswage,
He thought her milkwarm flesh could only quench,
And (for he saw she was of lawfull age)
With her consent he forst the princely wench:
Which sinne did set her father in such rage,
That straight condemning her in open bench:
Her of her life he publikely bereaved,
Nor spard the infant in her wombe conceaved.
48
This cruell act her lover so inflamed,
On King and Iland he doth wreake his spite,
He sends that monster that before I named,
With other beasts to stroy the Iland quite:
These monsters hurt their men, beat, kild and lamed,
In fine put all the people in such fright,
That to escape the beast devoid of pitie,
They left their fields, and fled unto their citie.
49
And though men armd the gates and wals defend,
Yet they within scant thought themselves secure,
And sith their harmes have neither ease nor end,
And tird these tedious travels to endure,
Unto Apollos oracle they send,
To know how they their safetie might procure,
Who after humble sute and sacrifice,
Answerd them of Ebuda in this wise.
50
Blood guiltlesse spilt did breed great Proteus ire,
Inflamd with love, and fed with beauty rare,
Blood guiltlesse must be spilt to quench this fire,
Till one be found may with the first compare:
This you must do and if you peace desire,
To take of damsels those that fairest are,
And offer one a day upon the shore,
Till he find one like unto that before.
51
This wofull answer breeding much despaire,
And more dislike within their carefull hearts,
To thinke that evry day a damsell faire,
Must for a prey be givn without desarts:
This is the cause that maketh them repaire,
(To find sufficient store) to sundry parts,
And get them Virgins faire and undefloured
Of this most ugly Orke to be devoured.
52
Now if this be of Proteus true or not,
I meane not in defence of it to stand,
But this is certaine so, full well I wot,
Men use this cruell custome in that land,
And day by day a maid is drawne by lot,
And left for prey upon the rocke or sand,
Unto the monster that doth them devoure,
Evn in their prime of youth and tender floure.
53
O wretched wights, whom subtle snares have brought
To this unfortunate and fatall Ile,
Where damsels faire and handsome out are sought,
To serve for food unto a monster vile:
Their pyrats bring them home, their vessels fraught
With such they take by force, or trap with wile,
With which they fill their prisons and their towres,
To have them ready at appointed hours.
54
Thus sending out their vessels day by day,
It chancd that one of them with tempest tost,
Hapt to arrive whereas the Hermit lay
With that faire Lady hard upon the cost:
Oh cruell chance, oh precious peerlesse pray,
Among the pirats either to be lost,
Or to be caried to the fatall Ile,
To be devoured of a monster vile.
55
That beauty rare that Sacrapant ay deemed
More deare then living, liberty or life:
That beauty rare that to Orlando seemed
Most fit of all the world to be his wife:
That beauty rare in India so esteemed,
That bred so many a blow and bloody strife,
Is now so quite of aid and comfort reft,
Not one to speake a word for her is left.
56
The damsell faire drownd in a deadly sleepe,
Was tane and bound before she could awake,
Also the drowsie Fryer, to make him keepe
Her company, away with them they take:
This done, they lanched out into the deepe,
And with this precious prey they homeward make,
Where in a Castle they detaind her thrall,
Untill to dy her lucklesse lot should fall.
57
Yet such great force her passing beauty had,
Among these barbarous and savage wights,
That they appeared sorrowfull and sad,
To wey the danger of her dolefull plights,
It seemed all of them would have beene glad,
To have preservd her many dayes and nights:
But such small store of others there remained,
At last to offer her they were constrained.
58
Who can the woes, the teares, the plaints rehearse,
The lamentations & the mourning sound,
That seemd the heavens themselves with noise to pearce,
To rend the rocks, and stir the stedy ground?
Her ivry corps convayd (as in a hearse)
By wailing wights, where they must leave it bound:
The thought hereof in me such pang doth breed,
I can no further in this tale proceed.
59
Wherefore I must some other matter find,
Untill my Muse her sorrow may asswage,
For sure no cruell beast were so unkind,
Nor Tyger in their greatest wrath and rage,
Nor any cruell tyrant can we find,
(Although there are good store in evry age)
That could behold or thinke without compassion,
A Lady bounden in so vile a fashion.
60
Oh had Orlando notice of her smart,
Who was to Paris gone to seeke her out,
Or those two Knights whom late the fiend did part,
The which for love of her together fought,
They would for her use all paine, care and art,
Of death nor danger they would put no doubt:
But if they helpe not now, it is no wonder,
Sith they and she were placd so far asunder.
61
Now in this time to Paris siege was layd,
By famous Agramant Trajanos sonne,
Of which at last they grew so sore afraid,
The towne had almost of the Turks beene wonne,
Had not their vowes procurd them heavnly ayd,
They had bin ruind all and quite undone,
The force of France had welnigh then bin foyled,
The holy Empire had almost bin spoyled.
62
For when that now the City was on fire,
And when all hope of humane helpe was past,
Then mighty God forgetting wrath and ire,
Upon their teares, repentance true and fast,
At Charles his humble prayer and desire,
With helpe from heavn releevd them at the last,
And sent such raine to aide the noble Prince,
As seld was seene before, and never since.
63
Now lay Orlando on his restlesse bed,
And thinks with sleepe to rest his troubled sprite,
But still a thousand thoughts possest his head,
Troubling his mind, and sleepe expelling quite:
As circles in a water cleare are spread,
When sun doth shine by day, and moone by night
Succeeding one another in a ranke,
Till all by one and one do touch the banke.
64
So when his mistris entred in his thought,
(As lightly she was never thence away)
The thought of her in him such circles wrought,
As kept him waking ever night and day,
To thinke how he from India had her brought,
And that she should thus on the sodaine stray,
Nor that he could of her true notice know,
Since Charles at Burdels had the overthrow.
65
The griefe hereof did him most neerely tuch,
And causd him often to himselfe to say,
What beast would have been overruld so much?
That when I might have made her with me stay,
(For why her love and zeale to me was such,
That in her life she never said me nay)
Yet I must suffer Namus for to guard her,
As though my selfe but little did reguard her.
66
I should to Charles my selfe have rather scused,
And as I did, have kept the damsell still,
Or if excuses all had bin refused,
I might in stead of reason pleaded will:
And rather then have bin so much abused,
All those that should resist me slay and kill,
At least I might have got her safer keeping,
And not have let her thus be lost with sleeping.
67
Where bidest thou, where wanderst thou my deare?
So yong, so lovely, and so faire of hew?
Even like a lambe when starres do first appeare,
(Her dame and shepheard being out of vew)
Bleateth aloud to make the shepheard heare,
And in her kind her evill hap doth rew,
Untill the wolfe doth find her to her paine,
The silly shepherd seeking her in vaine.
68
Where is my love, my joy, my lifes delight?
Wanderst thou still? do not the wolves offend thee?
Or needst not thou the service of thy Knight?
And keepest thou the flowre did so commend thee?
That flowre that me may make a happy wight,
That flowre for which I ever did defend thee,
That I forbare, to please thy mind (too chast)
Is not that flowre (alas) now gone and past?
69
O most unfortunate and wretched I,
If they have tane that sweet and precious floure,
What can I do in such a case but dy?
Yea I would kill my selfe this present houre,
I would this world and that to come defy,
Earth first my coarse, and Hell my soule devoure,
And this unto himselfe Orlando said,
With care and sorrowes being overlaid.
70
Now was the time when man and bird and beast,
Gives to his traveld body due repose,
When some on beds, and some on boords do rest,
Sleepe making them forget both friends and foes.
But cares do thee Orlando so molest,
That scarce thou canst thine eyes a little close,
And yet that fugitive and little slumber,
With dreames unpleasant thee doth vex and cumber.
71
He dreamt that standing by a pleasant greene,
Upon a bank with fragrant flowers all painted,
He saw the fairest sight that erst was seene,
I meane that face with which he was acquainted,
And those two stars that Cupid sits between
Whence came that shaft whose head his heart hath tainted,
The sight whereof did breed in him that pleasure,
That he preferd before all worldly treasure.
72
He thought himselfe the fortunatest wight
That ever was, and eke the blessedst lover:
But lo a storme destroyd the flowers quite,
And all the pleasant banke with haile did cover:
Then suddenly departed his delight,
Which he remaind all hopelesse to recover;
She being of this tempest so afraid,
That in the wood to save herselfe she straid.
73
And there (unhappy wretch) against his will,
He lost his Lady in unlucky howre:
But her to find againe he traveld still,
Employing to her safety all his powre,
The woods and deserts he with plaints doth fill,
And cride, alas turnd is my sweet to sowre:
And while these same and such like words he said,
He thought he heard her voice demaunding aid.
74
At this same voice (well knowne) a while he staid,
Then followd as the sound him guided most
With this mischance his mind was much dismaid,
His body sore with toile and travell tost:
When straight he heard another voice, that said,
Now hope no more, for all thy hope is lost.
And of the sodaine waking with the sound,
His eies all full of watry teares he found.
75
So sore he was affrighted at this vision,
That evn as though it had been so indeed,
And not a fancy vaine or apparition,
Thinking his lady stood of him in need:
In secret sort he getteth all provision,
To make repaire unto her aid with speed:
And (for he would not willingly be knowne)
He tooke nor man nor armour of his owne.
76
His coate of armes, of colour white and red,
He left behind for doubt of ill successe,
That if it fortund he but evill speed,
At least the losse and foile should be the lesse:
Upon his armour cypresse blacke he spred,
With colour sad, his sorrow to expresse.
And thus disguisd in sad and mourning hue,
He parts, and biddeth not his friends adue.
77
Not of King Charles, whose kinsman he is neare,
Nor taketh he his leave of Brandimart,
Nor yet to kinsman kind, or freind most deare,
Doth he his meaning open or impart:
Nor untill day did all abrode appeare,
Was Charles advised that he did depart,
But in great rage and choler when he knew it,
He sware and vowd Orlando sore should rue it.
78
At which good Brandimart was greatly greeved,
As one that deemd it was without desart,
And (that his frend by him might be releeved)
To find him out from thence he straight doth part,
For by his words, he certainly beleeved,
That he could ease his friend Orlandos smart,
But this to Fiordeledge he not imparted,
For feare that she his purpose would have thwarted.
79
This Fiordeledge of him was dearely loved,
A Lady of great beauty and cleare fame,
Of parents good, of manners unreproved,
Both wealthy, wise and modest to the same,
Yet taketh he no leave of his beloved,
But early in the morning from her came,
To turne that night was his determination,
But was deceived of his expectation.
80
And when she waited had a month or more,
Expecting his returne, and all in vaine,
For love of him she was inflamd so sore,
Alone she goes to find him out againe,
And many sorry haps she bid therefore,
As in the story shall be shewed plaine,
For of Orlando now I have to say,
That is of more importance then both thay.
81
Who having changd the armes he late did weare.
Directly to the City gate he went,
And told the Sentnell, softly in his eare,
What was his name, and what was his intent:
Who straight abast the bridge, without all feare,
(Suposing sure his uncle had him sent:)
And straight upon the Pagan campe he lighted,
As in the booke ensuing is recited.
ARGUMENT
THE NINTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Orlando hastes his journey when he hears,
What costly food Proteus his Orke allowes,
But by the way movd with Olimpias tears,
That did lament her late captived spouse,
His hasty journey he a while forbears,
To wreake her wrong upon her foe he vowes,
Which done no longer in the place he tarries:
Byreno false the faire Olimpia marries.
NINTH BOOKE
1
Alas what dammage cannot Cupid bring,
A noble heart once thralled to his lore?
That makes Orlando careles of his King,
To whom of late most faithfull love he bore.
Who earst so grave and wise in every thing,
And of the Church a Champion was before,
Now that in loves blind pathes he learns to plod,
Forgets himselfe, his country and his God.
2
Faine would I him disburden of this blame,
Glad in my faults a fellow such to finde,
For to my good I feele me dull and lame,
But prompt to ill, and swifter then the wind:
He not bethinking him how great a shame,
It was to leave his helplesse friends behind,
Went where the Kings of Affricke and of Spaine,
Did ly in field encampt with all their traine.
3
Yet not encampt I can them call, for why
They lay abroad dispersed with the raine,
Some twenty, ten, or eight together lie,
Or sixe, or five, or foure, or three, or twaine:
Some farther off, and some are lodged nie,
All weary with their former taken paine:
He might have killd of them a worthy crew,
Ne yet his Durindana once he drew.
4
The cause was this, so noble was his minde,
To murther men asleepe he thought it base,
He lets them rest, and seekes his love to finde,
By evry person, and in evry place,
And those he meets, with words and speeches kind,
(Describing her apparell and her face)
He praies of all good fellowship to shoe,
Or where she is, or whither she did goe.
5
When light approcht and day began to breake,
By day he seekes her in the host of Turkes,
His passions strong do make his reason weake,
Yeeld to the fit that in his fancy workes.
Some helpe it was, he could their language speake,
By which the safer he among them lurkes:
His words, his weeds, so like to theirs were seene,
As though he bred in Tripoly had beene.
6
But when he saw his staying was for nought,
At three daies end away from thence he flang,
He left no towne of France and Spaine unsought,
Ne yet this paine could ought asswage that pang:
Him Autumne first this wandring humor brought,
When frutes do fade, his fruitlesse love first sprang,
And lasted still his force and rage renuing,
Both all the spring and summer next ensuing.
7
Now having traveld as his custome was,
From realme to realme, he came upon a day,
Where as the river cleare sometimes as glasse,
That twixt the Britans and the Normans lay,
Was growne so high as now he could not passe,
The snow and raine had borne so great a sway,
By force whereof the bridge was overthrowne,
The passage stopt, the foords were overflowne.
8
And looking round about the shore at large,
Devising how to passe to thother side,
He saw a little way from thence a barge,
That seemed toward him the course to guide,
Of which a certaine damsell had the charge,
To whom with voice aloud Orlando cride,
Intreating her because his hast was great,
Within the barge him to affoord a seat.
9
The maid affirmd no price the barge could hire,
And to command it he had no commission,
But promist she would grant him his desire,
Upon a certaine covnant and condition;
Which was to undertake by sword and fire,
For to destroy an Ile, without remission,
A cruell Ile, Ebuda cald by name,
The wickedst place where ever creature came.
10
For know (quoth she) beyond the Irish land,
There lyes among the rest this gracelesse Ile,
That yeerely sends of wicked wights a band,
To rob, to spoile, to fraud and to beguile:
All women kind that happen in their hand,
They give for food unto a monster vile,
A monster vile that useth every day,
To have a maid or woman for his pray.
11
Of merchants and of pyrates that do come,
They get them store, and of the fairest most:
Now guesse by one a day how great a somme,
Of women kind within this Ile are lost.
If then of love you ever tasted cromme,
Make one within the King of Irelands host,
That make them ready shortly to proceed,
To take a faire revenge of this foule deed.
12
No sooner had Orlando heard her out,
But vowd to be as forward as the first,
To joyne himselfe with that same worthy rout,
And now (for love doth ever cast the worst)
Within himselfe begins to cast this doubt,
Least that this wicked monster and accurst,
Had got his Lady for a dainty bit,
Because he heard no newes of her as yet.
13
And this conceit his minde so much possest,
And in his heart made such a deepe impression,
(For both in nature he did still detest
All such as unto others do oppression)
And much he feard his love among the rest,
Might fall into the monsters vile possession,
That straight he shipt, and by their due account,
Within three daies he past S. Michels mount.
14
But having passed now the milke white sand,
Of which the Ile of Albion takes his name,
The wind that in the South before did stand,
With so great fury to the Northwest came,
In vaine it was against the same to stand,
And therefore to retire it was no shame,
Backe in one night the tempest drave them more
Then they had saild three daies and nights before.
15
For when they saw it was no boote to strive,
Against the fury of so feirce a winde,
They went even as the weather did them drive
Untill the streame of Antwerpe they did finde,
Where they to land with safety did arrive:
There loe, an aged man with yeeres halfe blinde,
Who deemd Orlando of that crew the chiefe
To this effect utterd to him his griefe.
16
How that a certaine Dame of noble blood,
Of vertue very great, of beauty rare,
Of sober cheare and of behaviour good,
(Though now opprest with misery and care)
Requested him, except his hast withstood,
That she to him a matter might declare,
In which to aske his wise advise she ment,
To which Orlando quickly did consent.
17
The Ladies pallace stood within the land,
To which the Earle conducted was with speed,
Where at the entry did the Lady stand,
In mourning shew, and sorrowfull indeed,
Who brought Orlando sadly by the hand,
Into a chamber hangd with mournfull weed,
First him by her to sit she doth beseech,
And then in ruefull sort she usd this speech.
18
First (worthy Knight) I would you understood,
I was the Earle of Hollands daughter deare,
Who was to me so tender and so good,
That though my brothers both were him as neare,
Yet my desire in nothing he withstood,
Nor spake the word that I was loth to heare:
Thus whiles in state most steddy I did stand,
A certaine Duke arrived in this land.
19
The Duke of Zeland, and his arrant was,
To Bisky there against the Moores to fight,
His age and beauty that did others passe,
Moovd me that had not tasted loves delight,
Nor armd against his darts with steele or brasse,
To yeeld my selfe his prisner without fight,
Beleeving then as still I do and shall,
That he to me doth carry love not small.
20
For while the windes contrary here him stay,
Though naught for his, yet exclent for my drift,
What time me seemd each weeke was but a day,
The pleasant houres did slide away so swift,
We kept ourselves together day by day,
Till at the last we made us so good shift,
That ere we parted we had so procured,
Each was to other man and wife assured.
21
Byreno was from hence but newly gone,
(So is my deare beloved husbands name)
But that a great Ambassador anon
Directly from the King of Friseland came,
To treat a certaine marriage upon
With other of that nation of good fame,
That to my Sire from Holland did repaire,
That I might marry with his son and heire.
22
But I in whom faith tooke so deepe a roote,
I could not change my new made choice, and tho
I would, to strive with love it was no boote,
That wounded me so lately with his bow,
To stop the motions newly set on foote,
Before they might to farther matter grow:
I would not go, I flatly told my father,
That I to dye a thousand deaths had rather.
23
My loving sire that chiefest care did take,
That all he did might me his daughter please,
Agreeing to my will, and for my sake,
My griefe so new conceived to appease,
Straightway the motion of this marriage brake,
Which did so sore the Friseland King displease,
He made sharpe warres on Holland in short space,
By force whereof he ruind all my race.
24
For first he is of limbes and body strong,
To meete his enemies in open field,
And then so politicke in doing wrong,
He makes their force unto his fraud to yeeld:
He hath his other weapons strange among,
A weapon strange, before this seene but seeld,
A trunke of iron hollow made within,
And there he puts powder and pellet in.
25
All closed save a little hole behind,
Whereat no sooner taken is the flame,
The bullet flies with such a furious wind,
As though from clouds a bolt of thunder came.
And whatsoever in the way it find,
It burnes, it breakes, it teares and spoiles the same,
No doubt some fiend of hell or divellish wight,
Devised it to do mankind a spite.
26
And thus with this device and many other,
In open field our battels twice he brake,
And first in fight he slue mine elder brother,
(The bullet through his curat way did make)
And next inflight he tooke and kild the tother,
Which causd my fathers aged heart to quake,
Who notwithstanding stoutly did intend,
His honor and my safety to defend.
27
But in a hold, that onely now was left him,
They him besiegd that all the rest had wonne,
And by sharpe battell all the rest had reft him,
Where to a loup one leveld so a gunne,
The blow thereof of life and sense bereft him,
So swift it came as none the same may shun.
A weapon vile, wherewith a foolish boy
May worthy Captaines mischiefe and annoy.
28
Thus was my father and my brothers slaine,
Before this furious King his warre would cease,
And I sole heire of Holland did remaine,
Which made his former fancy more increase:
He thinks by match with me my land to gaine,
And offerd to my people rest and peace,
If I Arbante marry would his sonne,
Which I before refused to have done.
29
And I (as well for hatred I did beare,
Most just to him and all his generation,
By whom my sire and brothers killed were
By whom was spoild and robbed all our nation,
As that to breake my promise I did feare,
Which I Byreno made with protestation,
That howsoever fortunes wheele should turne,
Yet none should marry me till his returne)
30
Made answer this, that if for every ill
I now abide I should have thousands more,
Though they my corpes with cruell torments kill,
I would not breake my promise given before.
My countrymen perswade me change this will,
First praying me, then threatning me full sore,
Except I do, to yeeld me and my land
(Desired prey) into mine enemies hand.
31
But finding still their threats and prayers vaine,
And still that in my former mind I staid,
Me and my country by a privy traine,
Unto the King of Friseland they berraid;
Who thinking now with flattry me to gaine,
First bid me not to feare or be dismaid,
Then offred free to give me lands and life,
If I would be his sonne Arbantes wife.
32
Then I that see my selfe inforced so,
Although I meant that death should set me free,
Yet loth as unrevenged hence to go,
On those that had so greatly injurd me:
Did muse on many meanes to helpe my wo,
At last I thought dissembling best to be,
Wherefore I fained that I was relented,
And that to have his son I was contented.
33
Among some servants that my father had,
Two brethren strong and hardy I did chuse,
Most apt to do what ever I them bad,
And for my sake no danger to refuse,
For each of them was brought up of a lad
Within our house, I did their service use
In warre and peace, and found their faiths as great
As were their hearts to any hardy feat.
34
To these two men I open made my mind,
They promist me their service and their aid,
One into Flanders went a barke to find,
The other with my selfe in Holland staid:
Now was our day for marriage assignd,
When flying newes the strangers made afraid,
With many sailes Byreno was reported,
Into these parts newly to have resorted.
35
For when the first conflict and broile was fought,
Wherein my brother cruelly was slaine,
I straight by letters with Byreno wrought,
To make all speed to succour us from Spaine.
But while provision for each thing was sought,
The Friseland King gate all that did remaine,
Byreno hearing not what late was past,
Conducts his navy hither in great hast.
36
The Friseland King that heard of his repaire,
Doth leave the marriage for his eldest sonne,
And to the sea he goes with navy faire,
They meet, they fight the King of Friseland wonne,
And to expell all comfort with despaire,
Byreno prisner tane, I quite undone,
Abrode Byreno captive like was carried,
At whom unto his enmy I was married.
37
But when he thought in armes me to embrace,
And have that due that wives their husbands ow,
My servant standing in a secret place,
Which I to him did for this purpose show,
Affoords him to his sport but little space,
And with a Pollax strake him such a blow,
That staggring straight, and making little strife,
He left his love, his living and his life.
38
And thus this youth borne in unhappy houre,
Came to his death as he deserved well,
In spite of all his sire Cymoscos powre,
Whose tyranny all others did excell:
Whose sword my sire and brothers did devoure,
And from my native soile did me expell,
And meant to enter upon all my lands,
While I by marriage should be in their hands.
39
But when we once performed had this deed,
And taken things of greatest price away,
Before that any noyse or tumult breed,
Out of the window we devisd a way:
And packing thence with all expedient speed,
We came to sea before the breake of day,
Whereas my servant waited with a barge,
As he before receivd of me in charge.
40
I know not if Cymosco tooke more griefe,
Or wrath or rancor kindled in his mind,
To see his son that lay past all reliefe,
To find nothing of value left behind,
Then when his pride and glory should be chiefe,
Then when to make a triumph be assignd,
And hoping all were at a wedding glad,
He finds them all as at a buriall sad.
41
His hate of me and pitty of his sonne,
Torment him night and day with endlesse griefe:
But sith by teares no good the dead is done,
And sharpe revenge asswageth malice cheefe,
From dolefull teares to rage he straight doth runne,
And seeks of all his sorrow this releese,
To get me in his hands with subtile traines,
Then me to kill with torments and with paines.
42
Those of my friends or servants he could find,
Or that to me did any way retaine,
He all destroyd, and left not one behind,
Som hangd, som burnd, & som with torment slaine,
To kill Byreno once he had assignd,
Of purpose onely to procure my paine,
But that he thought his life would be a net,
The sooner me into his hands to get.
43
Wherefore he set a hard, and cruell law,
Except Byrena could in twelve months space,
Find meanes by fraud or forces me to draw,
To yeeld my selfe a prisner in his place,
(Such Princes are that have of God no aw)
Then dy he should without all hope of grace:
So that to save his life, my death alone
Must be the meanes, for other can be none.
44
All that by paine or cost procure I could,
With diligence I have already done,
Sixe Castles faire in Flanders I have sold,
The mony spent, and yet no profit wonne,
I sought to bribe those that him kept in hold,
But they my craft with greater craft did shunne:
I also movd our neighbours neere and farre,
English and Dutch on him to make sharp warre.
45
But those I sent when they long time had staid,
I thinke they would not, or they could not speed:
They brought me many words, but little aid,
My store decreast, but greater grew my need,
And now (the thought whereof makes me afraid)
That time drawes ny, when neither force nor meed,
As soone as full expired is the yeere,
From cruell death can safe preserve my deare.
46
For him my father and his sonnes were slaine,
For him my state and living all is lost,
For him those little goods that did remaine,
I have consumd to my great care and cost,
For him with hearts disease and bodies paine,
With troublous waves of fortune I am tost,
Now last of all I must lay down my life,
To save my spouse from blow of bloody knife.
47
And finding that my fortune is so bad,
I must to save his life lay downe mine owne,
To leese mine owne I shall be faine and glad,
Where sorrow springs of seeds that love had sowne:
This onely feare and doubt doth make me sad,
Because I know not how it may be knowne,
If I shall sure release Byrenos bands,
By yeelding me into the tyrants hands.
48
I feare when he hath shut me in this cage,
If all the torments I shall then endure,
His fury to Byreno may asswage,
Whose liberty I study to procure:
I rather feare least following his rage,
When he shall find he hath us both so sure,
He will not care his oath and vow to breake,
Upon us both at once his wrath to wreake.
49
Behold the cause why I did long so sore
To speake with you, demaunding your advice,
As I have oft of others done before,
Yet found I none so handy nor so wise,
That would assure his freedome to restore,
Whose love doth me to hate my selfe intice,
The cause no doubt is this, they stand in feare
Of those his guns, whose force no steele can beare.
50
But if your vertue do not disagree,
With this your comely shape and manly show,
Let me request you sir to go with me,
Where I my selfe in prison shall bestow,
And promise me to set Byreno free,
If so the tyrant from his promise go.
For I shall die with great content and joy,
If by my death Byreno scape annoy.
51
Her dolefull tale the damsell here did end,
Which oft was interrupted with her teares:
Orlando loving not the time to spend
In idle talke, all answers long forbeares,
But in his mind he fully doth intend
To foile her foes and rid her of her feares,
He briefly said, that she should him commaund,
To do much more then she did him demaund.
52
He meanes not tho that she her selfe should yeeld
Unto the cruell tyrant as a pledge,
Except his sword (that failed him but seeld)
Had on the sodaine lost his force and edge,
He meanes (like common birders in the field)
To catch the birds and never hurt the hedge,
And thus resolvd to do this worthy deed,
From Flanders now by sea they go with speed.
53
The skilfull Pilot doth the vessell steare,
Sometime on thone, sometime on thother side,
The Iles of Zeland some before appeare,
And some behind as fast themselves do hide,
And straight to Holland they approched neare,
Orlando went to land, but bids her bide:
His meaning is that she shall understand,
The tyrants death before she come on land.
54
Himselfe forthwith was mounted on a steed,
A darke browne bay, with white starre in his face,
Both large and strongly limbd (like Flemish breed)
But not so full of life nor swift of pace,
Yet good enough to serve him at his need,
When as his Briliador was not in place:
And thus he came to Dordreck, where he found
With men of armes the gates environd round.
55
The wayes, the wals, with armd men watched were,
For tyrants still are most of such condition,
(And chiefly new) that ay they stand in feare,
And further now some newes had bred suspition,
How that an armie great approched neare,
Well stord with men, and stuffed with munition,
The which they said Byrenos cosin brought,
By force his kinsmans freedome to have wrought.
56
Orlando wils a watchman carry word
Unto their King, how that a wandring Knight
Desires to prove his force with speare and sword,
Whom if the King could overcome in fight,
Then he should have the Ladie by accord,
That slue Arbante on his wedding night:
For he had taken her into protection,
And could deliver her to his subjection.
57
But craved eke the King should bounden be,
By promise firme (if he were overcome)
To set his prisner (cald Byreno) free,
And of his message this was all the summe;
And this was told unto the King, but he
That of true vertue never tasted crumme,
Bent all his will and wit against all reason,
To falshood foule, to false deceit and treason.
58
He makes account if he this Knight can stay,
The which to do he meanes great meanes to make,
That then the Ladie quickly get he may,
And make him yeeld her for his safetie sake,
He sendeth thirtie men a privie way,
Him to inclose about and prisner take,
Who fetching compasse to avoid suspition,
At last arrived where they had commission.
59
In this meane time with words he foded out,
The worthy Earle, untill he saw his men,
According as he bad them come about,
Enclosing all the way behind, and then
Out of the gates he rusheth with a rout,
Of men on horse and foot of three times ten,
As hunters do inclose the beasts in woods,
Or fishers do inclose the fish in floods.
60
So doth the King Cymosco care and strive,
To stop the wayes with all foresight and heed,
And meaneth sure to have him tane alive,
And thinks the same is such an easie deed,
That of those guns with which he did deprive
So many lives, he thinks there is no need,
For such a weapon serveth very ill,
Where he did meane to take and not to kill.
61
As cunning fowlers do the birds reserve,
That first they take in hope of greater pray,
And makes them for a bait and stale to serve,
To take the rest by sport and pretie play,
So meanes the King alive him to preserve,
But unto this Orlandos force said nay:
He meanes not to be handled in that sort,
But breakes the nets and marreth all the sport.
62
The noble Earle with couched speare in hand,
Doth ride where as he finds the thickest prease,
Two, three and foure, that in this way did stand,
The speare doth pierce, nor at the fift doth cease,
It past the sixt the brodenesse of a hand,
Nor that same handbredth maketh any peace,
The seventh so great a blow therewith he strake,
That downe he fell and never after spake.
63
Evn as a boy that shoots abroade for sport,
And finds some frogs that in a ditch have bred,
Doth pricke them with an arrow in such sort,
One after one untill such store be dead,
As that for more his shaft may seeme too short,
From fethers fild already to the head,
So with his speare Orlando him besturd,
And that once left, he draweth out his sword.
64
That sword that never yet was drawne in vaine,
Against whose edge doth armour little boote,
At evry thrust or blow he gave was slaine,
A man on horse, or else a man on foote.
The edge whereof with crimson still doth staine,
And where it lights it pierceth to the roote.
The Friseland King repents him now too late,
That he for hast his guns behind forgate.
65
With voice aloud, and many a boistrous thret,
He bids them bring his gun, but none doth heare,
Who once within the gate his foot can get,
Hee dare not once peepe out againe for feare:
But when he saw none by his word did set,
And that almost they all departed were,
He thought it best to save himselfe by flight,
From so great force of this same furious Knight.
66
He back retires, ne drawes the bridge for hast,
Because Orlando now approcht so nie,
And had not then his horse him speeded fast,
As though he did not runne but rather flie,
Orlando would have made him sore agast,
Who caring not to make the poore sort die,
Past by the rest and kept the King in chase,
That savd himselfe by his good horses pace,
67
But yet ere long, againe he doth returne,
And brings with him his iron cane and fire,
Wherwith he doth beate down, and bruse and burne
All those whom he to mischiefe doth desire:
He hopes this weapon well shall serve his turne,
Yet for all this he meanes to come no nire,
But like a hunter privily doth watch,
Where he the heedlesse beast may safest catch.
68
The King with this his engine lyth in wait,
A weapon tearing trees and rending rocks,
Whose force no fence can ward with any sleight,
It gives so sound and unexpected knocks:
Thus having laine a little at receit,
And watcht his vantage like a crafty foxe,
When once the Earle within his reach he spide,
He setteth fire unto his peeces side.
69
Straight like a lampe of lightning out it flies,
And sendeth forth withall so great a sound,
As seemd to shake the everlasting skies,
And to remove the unremoved ground,
The shot gainst which no armour can suffice,
But breaketh all that in the way is found,
Doth whiz, and sing, and kindles as it went,
Yet did not that effect the tyrant ment.
70
For whether twere his overhasty speed,
And too great will to hurt did make him swerve,
Or whether feare possest him in the deed,
That not to guide his hand his heart could serve,
Or whether God of mercy meere and meed,
Was pleasd his champion longer to preserve:
It onely strake the horse with so great paine,
That downe he fell and never rose againe.
71
The horse and horseman downe together fell,
Downe lay the horse, up quickly rose the Knight,
And on his feet was straight recoverd well,
More earnestly bent then before to fight,
And as the stories of Antheus tell,
In whom each fall increased more his might:
So though Orlando with his fall was troubled,
His force and fury seemed to be doubled.
72
But when the King of Friseland plainly saw,
How this bold Knight grew fiercer then before,
He thought it best by flight himselfe withdraw,
His fainting heart with feare was pierst so sore:
Aside he turnes the horses foming jaw,
Now full resolvd to prove his force no more,
Orlando with such speed doth him pursue,
As doth an arrow from a bow of Yue.
73
And what he could not riding erst atchieve,
He doth the same and more upon his feet,
And runs so swift as few men would believe,
Except themselves had present bin to see it,
Untill at last so hard he him did drive,
He overtooke him in a narrow street,
And with his sword he cleft his head in twaine,
The senslesse corpes doth on the ground remaine.
74
Now as Orlando did this feate contrive,
There grew new broiles from thence a little distance,
For then Byrenos cosin did arrive,
With men on horse and foot for his assistance,
And finding none that durst against him strive,
He entred had the gates without resistance,
So late a feare was in the people bred,
That none of them durst come to make a hed.
75
The silly Burgers knew not what to say,
Nor who these were, nor what was their desire,
Untill the Zelanders themselves bewray,
Both by their speech and manner of attire:
Then made they peace, & promist them straightway,
To do what ere the captaine should require,
Against the men of Friseland them to aid,
Who yet in prison still Byreno staid.
76
For why, that people alwaies had in hate,
The King of Friseland and his men of warre,
Their Dukes late death, and altring their estate,
Had movd their minds, but that that all did marre,
Was overtaxing them in such a rate,
As alwaies breeds a great dislike and jarre.
Orlando twixt these men made such conclusion,
As turnd unto the Friseland mens confusion.
77
For straight to ground they threw the prison gate,
They fetch the prisners out without a kay,
Byreno to the Earle is not ungrate,
With thanks a part of his due debt to pay:
And then they go to shew Byrenos state,
To faire Olympia that at anchor lay,
For so they call the Lady chast and faire,
That of that Country was undoubted haire.
78
She that was thither by Orlando brought,
Without all hope of any such successe,
Who lately (silly creature) onely sought,
Her death might bring her lover from distresse:
Now was her safety and Byrenos wrought,
When she supposd and lookt for nothing lesse:
The joy cannot with many words be told,
Wherewith the tone the tother did behold.
79
The people do the damsell faire restore,
Unto the state that unto her was due:
But she that vowd her selfe for evermore,
To be unto Byreno lover true,
Persisting now as faithfull as before,
Nor fearing any harme that might ensue,
Doth grant to him for love and meere affection
Of her and her estate the full protection.
80
Byreno leaves his cosin in his place,
To guide that Country with sufficient gard,
His loving wife in Zeland he will place,
That done, with forces march to Friseland ward:
And hopes to conquer it in little space,
If that his fortune were not over hard,
And that which most assurd him of this thing,
He had in hold the daughter of their King.
81
Whom he did meane to marry (as men say)
Unto a younger brother of his name:
Orlando shipt himselfe that present day,
Byreno with him to his shipping came,
And offerd him a large part of the pray,
Because his valeour cheefly won the same,
Who nothing tooke but that same engin rare,
Which we before to lightning did compare.
82
Ne took he this away because he ment,
To prove the force therof upon his foe,
Or use the same when he to battell went,
His courage would not suffer him do so:
To hurle away the same was his intent,
Where it mankind might never damage moe:
He lets nor powder nor the shot remaine,
Nor ought that did unto the same pertaine.
83
And when that now the shelves and shallow shore,
Some twenty leagues or there about was left,
No land discernd behind nor yet before,
Upon the right hand or upon the left,
Because (said he) hereafter never more,
May any Knight of life and limb be reft
By thee, or coward vaunt him with the stout,
Lye there alow untill I fetch thee out.
84
O curst device found out by some foule fend,
And framd below by Belzebub in hell,
Who by thy meane did purpose and intend,
To ruine all that on the earth do dwell,
From whence thou camst, I thither thee do send:
(This said) the peece unto the bottom fell:
Orlando maketh all the speed he may,
Himselfe unto Ebuda to convay.
85
I say the noble Earle in hast him hide,
Unto that cruell Ile to find that wight,
Whom he more lovd then all the world beside,
On whom his thoughts were running day and night
Nor would he by the way one whit abide,
Lest of new stay might new occasion light,
And cause him when he had his purpose mist,
To cry with late repentance, had I wist.
86
His course he meanes of neither side to bend,
Nor South nor North, such hast he meanes to make,
But goes as that blind archer doth him send,
That deepe with dart of golden head him strake.
And here a while to leave him I intend,
Returning to the match of which I spake:
For you may thinke I lost it in the carriage,
If you should heare no more newes of the marriage.
87
Great feasts were made in Holland, and great sport,
Because of this new match and copulation;
But greater shall in Zeland by report,
For which there was great care and preparation:
Yet would I not you thither should resort,
Except you knew Byrenos inclination,
For chaunces fell that spoiled all the cheare,
As in the book ensuing you shall heare.
ARGUMENT
THE TENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Wicked Byreno falls in love of new,
And in an Ile hie kind Olympia leaves:
Rogero bids Alcynas realme adew,
But Logestilla gently him receaves:
She shewes him how to rule the horse that flew:
He flying in the aire, from thence perceaves
Renaldos musters: after which he found
Angelica unto the rocke fast bound.
TENTH BOOKE
1
Among the mirrors rare of loyall love,
That present are, or have bin in time past,
Whose faith no force of fortune could remove
With fauning cheare, nor yet with frowning blast:
Olympia faire all others farre above,
By just desert requireth to be plast:
Whose stedfast love (to say I dare be bold)
Doth passe the paterns of the new or old.
2
How could she signes more evident impart,
Unto Byreno of her loving mind?
No, though she should have open laid her hart,
Yet could she not have provd her selfe more kind:
And if such love and duty, by desart
May looke of due like love again to find,
Her faith requires unto Byreno showne,
That he should seeke her safety as his owne.
3
Nor onely not to leave her in annoy,
Or her reject for any other dame,
No not for her that bred the bane of Troy,
Or any other of more worthy name,
But her preferre before all worldly joy,
Before his sences five, before his fame,
Or any other thing of greater price,
To be exprest by word or by device.
4
Now if Byreno did her well requite,
If that he shewd to her the like good will,
If he regarded as he ought of right,
To bend unto her liking all his skill,
Nay if forgetting all her merits quite,
Ungrate, unkind, he sought her life to spill:
Behold I shall a tale to you recite,
Would make a man his lip for anger bite.
5
And when that I shall have declared plaine,
His cruelty, her loves unkind reward,
I thinke you Ladies never will againe
Beleeve mens words, your hearts will wax so hard;
For lovers loved Ladies loves to gaine,
Do promise, vow and sweare without regard,
That God doth see and know their falshood still,
And can and shall revenge it at his will.
6
Their othes but words, their words are all but wind,
Utterd in hast, and with like hast forgotten,
With which their faiths they do as firmely bind,
As bundels are trust up with cords all rotten:
Coynesse is naught, but worse to be too kind,
Men care not for the good that soone is gotten:
But women of their wits may justly bost,
That are made wiser by an others cost.
7
Wherefore I wish you lovely dames beware,
These beardlesse youths, whose faces shine so neate,
Whose fancies soone like strawe fire kindled are,
And sooner quencht amid their flaming heate:
The hunter chaseth still the flying hare,
By hill, by dale, with labour and with sweate,
But when at last the wished prey is taken,
They seeke new game, the old is quite forsaken.
8
Even so these youths, the while you say them nay,
In humble sort they seeke, they sue, they serve,
They like, they love, they honor, and obay,
They wait, they watch your favours to deserve:
A part they plaine, in presence of they pray,
For love of you they mourne, they pine and starve:
But having got that erst they sought so sore,
They turne their sailes unto another shore.
9
Though this be true, I not perswade you tho,
To leave to love, for that were open wrong,
To cause you like a vine undrest to grow,
Uncared for the briers and thornes among:
But least on youths you should your selves bestow,
That never in one fancy tarry long:
The meane is best, young fruits the stomach gripe,
The elder cloy when they be over ripe.
10
I shewd you in the tale I told you last,
How that Byreno had Cymoscos daughter,
To marry whom a motion late was past,
Because his brother lovd and greatly sought her,
But his owne mouth was of too lickrish tast,
To leave so sweet a morsell, having caught her:
He thought it were a point of foolish kindnesse,
To part withall, a peece of so rare finenesse.
11
The damsell little passed fourteene yeare,
Most tender, sweet and lovely, fresh and faire,
As when the budding rose doth first appeare,
When sunny beames in May make temperate aire,
Byreno likes her face, her sober cheare,
And usd to her to make so oft repaire,
That evn as Brimstone quickly taketh flame,
So love tooke him to his perpetuall shame.
12
The streame of teares that for her sire she shed,
A flaming fornace bred within his brest,
The plaints she made, and dolefull words she sed,
Doth breed his hope of getting his request,
Thus foule desires with hopes as foule are fed,
As water hote from boiling straight doth rest,
When liquor cold is powred in the pot,
So with new love his old was quite forgot.
13
From flow to ebbe thus turned was the tide,
His late belovd Olympia lothsome grew,
To looke on her his heart could scant abide,
His thoughts were all so setled on the new,
Yet still the time might serve he thinks to hide,
His filthy hate with faire and painted hew,
And though in fancy he did her detest,
Yet still great kindnesse he in shew profest.
14
And if he shewd the other signes of love,
(Although such love was worse then any hate)
Yet none there was herein did him reprove,
But tooke his meaning in another rate,
They thought som good remorse his mind did move,
In gracious sort to pity her estate,
And that to her he charitably ment,
Because she was so yong and innocent.
15
O mighty God, haw much are men mistane?
How oft with fained shewes they are deceaved?
Byrenos wicked meaning and prophane,
For good and godly was of men receaved:
The marriners their oares in hand had tane,
And from the shore the ship was quickly heaved,
To Zeland ward the Duke with all his traine,
With helpe of oares and sailes doth passe amaine.
16
Now had they lost the sight of Holland shore,
And marcht with gentle gale in comely ranke,
And (for the wind was westerly) they bore
To come within the lue of Scottish banke,
When as a sodain tempest rose so sore,
The force thereof their ships had well nie sanke,
Three dayes they bare it out, the fourth at night
A barren Iland hapned in their sight.
17
Here faire Olympia from her ship to sand,
From sands she passeth to the higher ground,
Byreno kindly led her by the hand,
(Although his heart another harbour found)
They sup in their pavillion pitcht on land,
Environd with a tent about them round:
The supper done, to bed do go they twaine,
The rest unto their ships returne againe.
18
The travell great she lately did endure,
And had three dayes before her waking kept,
And being now upon the shore secure,
(Now glad of that for which ere long she wept)
And taking her amid his armes secure,
All this did cause that she the sounder slept,
(Ah silly soule) when she was least afraid,
Of her false husband thus to be betraid.
19
The trecherous Byreno, whom deceit
And thought of leud intent doth waking keepe,
Now having time for which he long did wait,
Supposing faire Olympia sound asleepe,
Unto his ships he hies with short retrait,
And makes them all lanch forth into the deepe:
And thus with wicked practise and unjust,
He her forsooke that chiefly him did trust.
20
Now were the sailes well charged with the wind,
And beare him lighter then the wind away,
The poore Olympia now was left behind,
Who never waked till that breake of day,
To lightsomnesse had changd the darknesse blind,
And sunny beames had drivn the mist away,
She stretcht her armes betwixt asleep and wake,
And thinks Byreno in her armes to take.
21
She findeth none, and drawing back againe,
Again she reacht them out, but findeth none,
Her leg likewise she reached out in vaine,
In vaine, for he for whom she feeles is gone,
Feare sleep expels, her eies she opens plaine,
Nor yet she heares, she sees, nor feeles not one,
With which amazd, the clothes away she cast,
And to the shore she runneth in great hast.
22
With heart dismaid, and seeing her before
Her fatall hap, unto the sea she hies,
She smote her brest, her haire she rent and tore,
Now looking (for all lightsome were the skies)
If ought she could discerne, but even the shore,
But even the shore, no other thing she spies:
Then once or twise she cald Byrenos name,
Then once or twise the caves resound the same.
23
And boldly then she mounted on the rocks.
All rough and steepe, such courage sorrow brought,
Her wofull words might move the stones and stocks,
But when she saw, or at the least she thought,
She saw the ships, her guiltlesse brest she knocks,
By signes and cries to bring them backe she sought,
But signes and cries but little now availes,
That wind bare them away that fild their sailes.
24
What meanest thou (thus poore Olympia spake)
So cruelly without me to depart?
Bend back thy course, and cease such speed to make,
Thy vessel of her lading lackes a part:
It little is the carkas poore to take,
Since that it doth already beare the hart:
Thus having by the shore ende long in vaine,
Unto the tent she backe returnes againe.
25
And lying groveling on her restlesse bed,
Moistning the same with water of her eies,
Sith two on thee did couch last night (she sed)
Why did not two from thee together rise?
Accurst the wombe that false Byreno bred,
Accurst the day that first I saw the skies.
What shall I do? what can I here alone,
Or who (wo me) can mitigate my mone?
26
I see no man, nor any signe I see,
That any man within this Ile doth dwell:
I see no ship that hence may carry me,
With (at the least) some hope of being well:
I here shall starve, it cannot other be,
And buried how to be I cannot tell;
Ah how if wolves that wander in this wood,
Devoure my flesh, or drinke my guiltlesse blood?
27
Alas I doubt, and stand evn now in feare,
Lest that some ravnous wolfe that here abides,
Some Lion, Tyger, or some ugly Beare,
With teeth and clawes shall pierce my tender sides,
Yet what beast could with greater torment teare,
Then thou more fierce then any beast besides?
For they contented are but once to kill,
But thou my life a thousand times dost spill.
28
But presuppose some vessell here arrive,
And take me from this place for pittie sake,
And so perchance I may be left alive,
The Beares nor Lions never shall me take,
Yet will it be in vaine for me to strive,
Againe to Holland my repaire to make:
Thou keepst by force the place where I was borne,
Whence by deceit thou broughts me (false forsworn)
29
Thou tookst from me my living, by pretence
And colour of thy friendship and alliance,
Thy men of armes were paid by my expence,
I gave thee all, such was my fond affiance:
Or shall I turne to Flanders? sith from thence
I sold my selfe, and am at flat defiance
With all the nation, whom to set thee free
I quite forsooke, that now ah wo is me?
30
Is there for me in Friseland any place?
Where I refusd for thee to be a Queene,
The which refusall ruind all my race,
As by the sequell was too plainly seene?
O cruell hap, o strange and monstrous case,
The righteous God judge thee and me betweene.
Was ever Tyger carried heart so hard,
For so firme love to pay so foule reward?
31
But what and if some pyrat wanting feare
Of God and man, shall take me as a slave?
Thou God forbid, let Tyger, Wolfe and Beare,
First carry me a prey into their cave,
And there my flesh in peeces all to teare,
That dying, I my chastitie may save.
This said, her raging griefe her hands addresses,
To offer force unto her golden tresses.
32
And even as Hecuba fell raging mad,
With griefe of mind and sorrow sore oppressed,
To see her Polydorus little lad
By kinsmans fraud and crueltie distressed:
So ravd Olympia faire, as though she had
With twentie thousand divels bene possessed:
At last she sitteth on the rocks alone,
And seemes as senslesse as the senslesse stone.
33
And in this state I meane to let her stay,
Till of Rogero I have talkt a while,
Who traveld in the hot and sandy way,
Full many weary and unpleasant mile:
And now it was the middle of the day,
When as upon the South side of the Ile,
He saw three Ladies neere a little towre,
Did sport themselves within a pleasant bowre.
34
These Ladies faire were of Alcynas crew,
And there refresht themselves a little space,
They had great store of wines both old and new,
And sundry kind of junkets in like case:
A prety barke there lay within their vew,
That did attend their pleasures in the place,
And wait when any little gale should blow,
(For now was none) that they might homeward go.
35
Then one of these that had espide the Knight,
At such a time, and in such way to ride,
With courteous speech invites him to alight:
The second brings him wine on thother side,
And makes him farre more thirstie with the sight,
But these enticements could not cause him bide,
He feares Alcyna prisner so might take him,
If by this stay she hapt to overtake him.
36
Even as salt peeter mixt with brimstone pure,
Inflameth straight when once it feeles the fire,
Or as the sea with winds and aire obscure,
Doth worke and swell, and ever riseth hier;
So they that saw their words could not allure,
His noble mind to follow their desier,
Tooke high disdaine that they were so contemned,
And him of great discourtesie condemned.
37
And straight the third as in a raging mood
Said thus, O creature void of all gentilitie,
And borne (no doubt) of base unworthy blood,
And bred where never used was civilitie,
Ay during life fro thee depart all good,
Nor maist thou die in quiet and tranquillitie,
But burned maist thou be, or cut in quarters,
Or driven to hang thy selfe in thine owne garters.
38
With these and many bitter speeches mo,
They raile on him, and then they take their barke,
And coast along upon the Southerne shore,
That they his passage and his course might marke.
But he that now was gotten farre before,
Did little to their threats or curses harke:
And notwithstanding all that they contrived,
Yet to his ship in safetie he arrived.
39
The Pilot doth Rogero much commend,
That from Alcyna so himselfe did save,
And as a wise and well experiencd frend,
Sound counsel and good precepts him he gave,
And wisht that he his time would better spend,
And leave fond toyes, embracing wisedome grave,
And from the good the evill to discerne,
As Logestilla used men to learne.
40
There is the food that fils and never cloyeth,
There is the love, the beauty and the grace,
That maketh him most blest that them enjoyeth,
To which compard, all other joyes are base:
There hope, nor feare, nor care the mind annoyeth,
Respect of persons, nor regard of place:
The mind still finding perfit contentation,
That rests it selfe in vertuous contemplation.
41
There are (said he) some better lessons taught,
Then dancings, dallyings, or daintie diet,
There shal you learne to frame your mind & thought
From will to wit, to temperance from riet:
There is the path by which you may be brought
Into the perfect paradise of quiet.
This tale the Pilot to Rogero told,
And all the while their course they forward hold.
42
But lo, they see a navie under saile,
Of ships that toward them in hast did bend,
Alcyna wrathfull striving tooth and naile,
Doth thinke to fetch againe her fleeting frend:
But all her diligence could not availe,
Rogero to returne doth not intend,
And of her forces he was not afraid,
Because that Logestilla sent him aid.
43
For straight a watchman standing in a towre,
So high that all the hils and shore was under,
Did ring the larum bell that present houre,
He saw her fleet, though distant farre asunder:
And when that now approched was their powre,
With cannon shot they made them such a thunder,
That though Alcyna threatned much and braved,
Yet was Rogero from her malice saved.
44
Then at his first arrivall to the shore,
Foure damsels met him sent by Logestilla,
Andronica that wisely sees before,
And Fronesis the just, and chast Drusilla,
And she that boldly fights for vertues lore,
Descending from the Romane race Camilla:
And straight rusht out of men a worthy band,
Ay prest to meet their foes on sea and land.
45
Within a large and very quiet bay,
A navie was of vessels big and tall,
That readie at an howers warning lay,
To go to fight at any little call.
And now there was begun a great affray,
By land and sea the conflict was not small,
Which did the realme in hurly burly set,
Alcyna late did from her sister get.
46
This strange to see of wars the strange successe,
She that of late was counted of such might,
Is now so drivn in danger and distresse,
That scant she could preserve her selfe by flight.
Rogeros parting brought her griefe no lesse,
Then did the foile, which both bred such despite,
And such despaire, to die she had intended,
(If so she might) to have her torments ended.
47
And as her selfe the dame of Carthage kild,
When as the Troyan Duke did her forsake:
Or as her blood the Queene of AEgypt spild,
For that so famous Romane captaines sake:
Even so Alcyna with like sorrowes fild,
Wisht of her selfe with like death end to make,
But (either auncient folke beleevd a lie,
Or this is true) a fairy cannot die.
48
But leave we now Alcyna in this paine,
That from her elder sister fled apace,
And to Rogero let us turne againe,
That was conducted to a better place,
Where finding now that he did safe remaine,
He thanked God that gave him so much grace,
To see his foes of forces all deprived,
Himselfe within the castle safe arrived.
49
And such a castle that in stately show
And costly substance others all surmounted,
The value of the wals can no man know,
Except he first upon the same had mounted:
Men have not jewels of such price below,
For Dimonds are to these but drosse accounted,
And Pearles but pelfe, and Rubies all are rotten,
Where stones of such rare vertue can be gotten.
50
These wals are built of stones of so great price,
All other unto these come farre behind:
In these men see the vertue and the vice,
That cleaveth to the inward foule and mind.
Who looks in such a glasse, may grow so wise,
As neither flattering praises shall him blind
With tickling words nor undeserved blame,
With forged faults shall worke him any shame.
51
From hence doth come the everlasting light,
That may with Phoebus beames so cleare compare,
That when the Sunne is downe there is no night,
With those that of these jewels stored are:
These gems do teach us to discerne aright,
These gems are wrought with workmanship so rare,
That hard it were to make true estimation,
Which is more worth the substance or the fashion.
52
On arches raisd of prophiry passing hie,
So hie that to ascend them seemd a paine,
Were gardens faire and pleasant to the eie,
Few found so faire below upon a plaine:
Sweet smelling trees in order standing by,
With fountaines watring them in steed of raine,
Which do the same so naturally nourish,
As all the yeare both flowres and fruites do flourish.
53
No weeds or fruitlesse trees are in this place,
But herbs whose vertues are of highest price,
As soveraigne sage, and thrift, and herbe of grace,
And time, which well bestowed maketh wise,
And lowly patience, proud thoughts to abase,
And hearts ease, that can never grow with vice.
These are the herbs that in this garden grew,
Whose vertues do their beauties still renew.
54
The Ladie of the castle greatly joyed,
To see the safe arrivall of this Knight,
And all her care and travell she employed,
That honor might be done him in her sight.
Astolfo (in his passage lesse annoyed)
Doth take in his acquaintance great delight,
And all the other his good favour sought,
That by Melyssa to themselves were brought.
55
Now having all themselves some dayes reposed
In Logestillas house, and taken rest,
And finding all themselves right well disposed,
To make returne againe into the West,
The good Melyssa for them all proposed,
Unto the mighty Ladie this request,
That by her leave without incurring blame,
They might returne them all from whence they came.
56
To whom dame Logestilla thus replide,
That after they a day or two had staid,
She would for them most carefully provide,
For all their journey furniture and aid:
And first she taught Rogero how to ride
The flying horse (of whom he was afraide)
To make him pace or passe a full careere,
As readily as other horses here.
57
When all was ready now for him to part,
Rogero bids this worthy dame farewell,
Whom all his life time after from his hart
He highly honored and loved well.
First I will shew how well he playd his part,
Then of the English Duke I meane to tell,
How in more time, and with far greater paine,
He did returne to Charles his court againe.
58
Rogero mounted on the winged steed,
Which he had learnd obedient now to make,
Doth deeme it were a brave and noble deed,
About the world his voyage home to take.
Forthwith beginneth Eastward to proceed,
And though the thing were much to undertake,
Yet hope of praise makes men no travell shunne,
To say another day, we this have done.
59
And leaving first the Indian river Tana,
He guides his journey to the great Catay,
From thence he passeth unto Mangiana,
And came within the sight of huge Quinsay:
Upon the right hand leaving Sericana,
And turning from the Scythians away,
Where Asia from Europa first doth draw,
Pomeria, Russia, Prutina he saw.
60
His horse that hath the use of wings and feet,
Did helpe with greater haste home to retire,
And tho with speed to turne he thought it meet,
Because his Bradamant did so desire,
Yet having now of travell felt the sweet,
(Most sweet to those to knowledge that aspire)
When Germany and Hungry he had past,
He meanes to visit England at the last.
61
Where in a medow on a morning faire,
Fast by the Tems at London he did light,
Delighted with the water and the aire,
And that faire citie standing in his sight,
When straight he saw that souldiers did repaire,
To muster there, and asking of a Knight,
That in the medow he had met by chance,
He understood that they were bound for France.
62
These be the succors (thus the Knight him told)
Renaldo sude for at his comming hither,
With Irish men and Scots of courage bold,
To joyne in hearts and hands and purse together.
The musters tane and each mans name enrold,
Their onely stay is but for wind and wether,
But as they passe I meane to you to shew them,
Their names and armes, that you may better know them.
63
You see the standerd, that so great doth show,
That joynes the Leopard and the Flouredeluce,
That chiefest is, the rest do come below
And revrence this according to our use:
Duke Leonell Lord generall doth it ow,
A famous man in time of warre and truce,
And nephew deare unto the King my master,
Who gave to him the Dukedome of Lancaster.
64
This banner that stands next unto the Kings,
With glittering shew that shakes the rest among,
And beares in azure field three argent wings,
To Richard Earle of Warwicke doth belong,
This man the Duke of Glosters banner brings,
Actaeons head, except my guesse be wrong,
The fierbrand the Duke of Clarence is,
The tree the Duke of Yorke doth claime for his.
65
The launce into three sundry peeces rent,
Belongs unto the worthy Duke of Norfolke:
The lightning longs unto the Earle of Kent,
The Griphin longs unto the Earle of Pembroke:
The ballance evn by which just doome is ment,
Belongs unto the noble Duke of Suffolke.
The Dragon to the valiant Earle of Cumberland,
The garland is the brave Earls of Northumberland.
66
The Earle of Arundell a ship halfe drownd,
The Marquesse Barkly gives an argent hill:
The gallant Earle of Essex hath the hound,
The bay tree Darby that doth flourish still:
The wheele hath Dorset ever running round,
The Earle of March his banner all doth fill
With Caedar trees: the Duke of Somerset
A broken chaire doth in his ensigne set.
67
The Faulcon hovering upon her nest,
The Earle of Devnshire doth in banner beare,
And brings a sturdy crew from out the West.
The Earle of Oxenford doth give the Beare:
The banner all with blacke and yellow drest,
Belongs unto the Earle of Winchester.
He that the cristall crosse in banner hath,
Is sent from the rich Bishop of the Bath.
68
The archers on horse, with other armed men,
Are two and fortie thousand more or lesse,
The other footmens number doubles them,
Or wants thereof but little as I guesse:
The banners shew their captains noble stem,
A crosse, a wreath, an azure bar, a fesse,
Geffray and Ermant, Edward bold and Harry,
Under their guide the footmen all do carry.
69
The Duke of Buckingham that first appeares,
The next to him the Earle of Salsbury:
Burgany next, a man well stricke in yeares,
And Edward next the Earle of Shrewsbury.
Now turne about, and lo the Scottish peares,
Brave men, and well appointed you shall see,
Where Zerbin sonne unto the Scottish King,
Unto the field doth thirtie thousand bring.
70
All chosen men from many a shire and towne,
All ready to resist, assaile, invade,
Their standerd is the beast of most renowne,
That in his paw doth hold a glittering blade,
This is the heire apparant to the crowne,
This is the goodly impe whom nature made,
To show her chiefest workmanship and skill,
And after brake the mould against her will.
71
The Earle of Otton commeth after him,
That in his banner beares the golden barre:
The spotted Leopard that looks so grim,
That is the ensigne of the Duke of Marre.
Not far from him there commeth Alcubrin,
A man of mighty strength and fierce in warre,
No Duke, nor Earle, nor Marquesse as men say,
But of the savages he beares the sway.
72
The Duke of Trafford beares in ensigne bright,
The bird whose yong ones stare in Phoebus face:
Lurcanio Lord of Angus, valiant Knight,
Doth give a Bull, whom two dogs hold in chase;
The Duke of Albanie gives blue and white,
(Since he obtained faire Geneuras grace)
Earle Bohune in his stately banner beares
A Vulture that with clawes a Dragon teares.
73
Their horsemen are with jacks for most part clad,
Their horses are both swift of course and strong,
They run on horseback with a slender gad,
And like a speare, but that it is more long:
Their people are of warre then peace more glad,
More apt to offer then to suffer wrong:
These are the succors out of Scotland sent,
That with the noble Prince Zerbino went.
74
Then come the Irish men of valiant harts,
And active limbs, in personages tall,
They naked use to go in many parts,
But with a mantle yet they cover all:
Short swords they use to carry and long darts,
To fight both neare and farre aloofe withall,
And of these bands the Lords and leaders are,
The noble Earles of Ormond and Kildare.
75
Some sixteene thousand men or thereabout,
Out of the Irish Ile at this time went,
Beside the other Ilands thereabout,
Sweveland and Island other succors sent;
To good King Charles, for why they stood in doubt,
If he were conquerd they should all repent,
And still their numbers daily did increase,
Of those that better like of warre then peace.
76
Now while Rogero learnes the armes and name
Of every Brittish Lord, behold a rout
Of citizens and folke of all sorts came,
Some with delight, and some with dread and doubt,
To see a beast so strange, so strong, so tame,
And wondring much, they compast him about:
They thought it was a strange and monstrous thing,
To see a horse that had a Griffons wing.
77
Wherefore to make the people marvell more,
And as it were to sport himselfe and play,
He spurd his beast, who straight aloft did soare,
And bare his master Westward quite away:
And straight he was beyond our English shore,
And meanes to passe the Irish seas that day,
Saint George his channell in a little while,
He past, and after saw the Irish Ile.
78
Where men do tell strange tales, that long ago
Saint Patrick built a solitary cave,
Into the which they that devoutly go,
By purging of their sins their soules may save:
Now whether this report be true or no,
I not affirme, and yet I not deprave.
But crossing from hence to Island ward he found
Angelica unto the rock fast bound.
79
Both nakd and bound at this same Ile of wo,
For Ile of wo it may be justly called,
Where peerlesse peeces are abused so,
By monster vile to be devourd and thralled,
Where pyrats still by land and sea do go,
Assaulting forts that are but weakly walled:
And whom they take by flattry or by force,
They give a monster quite without remorse.
80
I did declare not many books before,
If you the same in memory do keepe,
How certaine pyrats tooke her at a shore,
Where that chast Hermit lay by her asleepe,
And how at last for want of other store,
Although their hearts did melt, and eies did weepe,
Moovd with a helplesse and a vaine compassion,
Perforce they bound her on this wofull fashion.
81
And thus the caitives left her all forlorne,
With nothing but the rocks and seas in sight,
As naked as of nature she was borne,
And void of succour, and all comfort quite.
No vaile of lawne as then by her was worne,
To shade the damask rose and lillies white,
Whose colours were so mixt in every member,
Like fragrant both in July and December.
82
Rogero at the first had surely thought,
She was some image made of alabaster,
Or of white marble curiously wrought,
To shew the skilfull hand of some great master.
But vewing neerer he was quickly taught,
She had some parts that were not made of plaster:
Both that her eies did shed such wofull teares,
And that the wind did wave her golden heares.
83
To see her bound to heare her mourne and plaine,
Not onely made that he his journey staid,
But causd that he from teares could scant abstaine,
Both love and pity so his heart assaild,
At last with words to mitigate her paine,
Thus much to her in loving sort he said,
O Lady worthy onely of those bands,
Wherewith love binds the hearts and not the hands.
84
And farre unfit for these or any such,
What wight was found so cruell and unkind,
To banish all humanity so much,
Those polisht Ivory hands in chaines to bind,
About that corps whom none can worthely tuch
With hurtfull hands, unworthy bands to wind?
This said, she blusht, seeing those parts were spide,
The which (though faire) yet nature strives to hide.
85
Faine would she with her hand have hid her eyes,
But that her hands were bound unto the stone,
Which made her oft to breake to wofull cries,
(Sole remedy where remedy is none)
At last with sobbing voice she doth devise
To tell the Knight the cause of all her mone:
But from the sea a sodaine noise was heard,
That this her speech and all the matter mard.
86
Behold there now appeard the monster great,
Halfe underneath and halfe above the wave,
As when a ship with wind and weather beat,
Doth hasten to the havn it selfe to save:
So doth the monster hast, in hope to eate
The dainty morsell he was wont to have:
Which sight so sore the damsell did appall,
Rogero could not comfort her at all.
87
Yet with his speare in hand, though not in rest,
The ugly Orke upon the brow he strake,
(I call him Orke, because I know no beast,
Nor fish from whence comparison to take)
His head and teeth were like a bore, the rest
A masse, of which I know not what to make,
He gave him on the brow a mighty knocke,
But pierst no more then if it were a rocke.
88
And finding that his blow so small hurt brings,
He turnes again on fresh him to assay,
The Orke that saw the shadow of great wings,
Upon the water up and down to play,
With fury great and rage away he flings,
And on the shore doth leave the certaine pray,
The shadow vaine he up and downe doth chase,
The while Rogero layth him on apace.
89
Even as an Eagle that espies from hie,
Among the herbs a party colourd snake,
Or on a bank sunning her selfe to lie,
To cast the elder skin, a new to make,
Lies hovering warily till she may spie
A vantage sure the venomd worme to take,
Then takes him by the back, and beates her wings,
Mauger the poison of his forked stings.
90
So doth Rogero both with sword and speare,
The cruell monster warily assaile,
Not where he fenced is with grizly heare,
So hard as that no weapon could prevaile,
But sometime pricks him neere unto his eare,
Sometime his sides, sometimes his ugly taile:
But nature had with such strong fences armd him,
As all his blowes but small or nothing harmd him.
91
So have I seene ere this a silly flie,
With mastive dog in sommers heate to play,
Sometime to sting him in his nose or eie,
Sometime about his grizly jawes to stay,
And buzzing round about his eares to flie,
He snaps in vaine, for still she whips away,
And oft so long she dallies in this sort,
Till one snap comes and marreth all her sport.
92
But now Rogero doth this sleight devise,
Sith that by force he cannot make him yeeld,
He meanes to dazle both the monsters eyes,
By hidden force of his enchanted sheeld.
And being thus resolvd to land he flies,
And from all harme the Lady faire to sheeld,
He puts the precious Ring upon her hand,
Whose vertue was enchantments to withstand.
93
That ring that worthy Bradamant him sent,
When she from false Brunello had it tane,
With which Melyssa into India went,
And wrought his freedome, and Alcynas bane,
That ring he lends the damsell, with intent
To save her eyes by vertue of the same,
Then takes he forth the shield, whose light so dazed
The lookers on, they fall down all amazed.
94
The monster now approaching to the shore,
Amazd at this, resistance none did make
Rogero hewes upon him more and more,
But his hard scales no harme thereby did take.
Oh sir (saith she) unloosen me before
Out of this maze the monster do awake,
And let your sword slay me this present houre,
So as this monster may not me devoure.
95
These wofull words movd so Rogeros mind,
That straight he did unloose the Lady faire,
And causd her by and by to get behind
Upon his horse, then mounting in the aire,
He leaves his Spanish journey first assignd,
And unto little Brittain doth repaire,
But by the way be sure he did not misse,
To give her many a sweet and friendly kisse.
96
And having found a solitary place,
A pleasant grove well waterd with a spring,
Which never herd nor herdman did deface,
Where Philomela used still to sing,
Here he alights, minding to stay a space,
And hither he the Lady faire did bring,
But sure it seemd he made his full account,
Ere long upon a better beast to mount.
97
His armour made him yet a while to bide,
Which forced stay a more desire did breed,
But now in him it was most truly tride,
Oft times the greater hast, the worse the speed,
He knits with hast two knots, while one untide.
But softtis best no furder to proceed,
I now cut off abruptly here my rime,
And keepe my tale unto another time.
ARGUMENT
THE ELEVENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Angelica doth hide her selfe away,
By vertue of the Ring Rogero lent her:
Rogero sees a Gyant beare away
His spouse halfe dead, and greatly doth lament her:
Orlando at the Ile of woe doth stay,
Where many women meete but hard adventer:
Here he the Monster kild, Olympia freed,
To marry whom Oberto soone agreed.
ELEVENTH BOOKE
1
The gallant courser in his full carriere,
Is made by man, to stop with slender raine:
But man himselfe his lust and fond desire,
Is seldome drawne by reason to refraine:
Tis hard to stop, but harder to retire,
When youthfull course ensueth pleasure vaine,
As Bears do breake the hives and weake defences,
When smell of hony commeth to their sences.
2
No marvell if Rogero could not hold,
But that he would now take a little sport,
That naked did Angelica behold,
Within a grove alone from all resort:
His love to Bradamant now waxeth cold,
Or at the least is temperd in such sort,
He meanes therewith at this time to dispence,
And not to let this go a maiden hence.
3
Whose beauty was so rare as well it might
Have made Zenocrates an Epicure,
No marvell then if this same gentle Knight,
Could not so great temptation well endure:
But while he hastend to his hopt delight,
Of which he thought him in possession sure,
There fell a strange and unexpected thing,
By meanes Angelica did know the ring.
4
This was the ring that she with her had brought
To France, the very first time she was there,
What time by aid thereof so well she wrought,
She holp her brother to thinchanted speare,
By vertue of this ring she set at nought
Those magike arts, that men so greatly feare:
With this Orlando County Palladine,
She did release from wicked Dragontine,
5
By helpe of this invisible she went,
Out of the towre where Atlant had her set:
For this same Ring Brunello false was sent
By Agramant, who longd the same to get.
To tell that story is not my intent,
For feare it might my other matter let,
But certaine tis, that when this Ring was lost,
In fortunes waves she had been ever tost.
6
Now when she saw this Ring was on her hand,
She was so strooke with marvell and with joy,
That scarce she could discerne and understand,
If she were wake or if she dreamd some toy;
But to make tryall how the case doth stand,
And know if she this treasure doth enjoy,
Into her mouth the Ring she doth convay,
And straight invisible she goeth away.
7
Rogero that each minute thought an howre,
(His armour off, and ready for the play)
Expecting now the damsell in a bowre,
Where he had pointed her for him to stay,
Found all too late, that by the Rings strange power,
She had unseene convaid her selfe away.
He lent it her to save her eyes from blindnesse,
And for reward she quits him with unkindnesse.
8
With which her act displeasd and ill apaid,
He curst himselfe, and chafed in his mind:
O cruell and unthankfull wench (he said)
Is this the love that I deservd to find?
Dost thou reward him thus that brought thee aid?
To thy preserver art thou so unkind?
Take ring and shield, and flying horse and me,
This onely barre me not thy face to see.
9
This said, he goth about where she had beene,
Still groping as the weather had bin darke,
Embracing of the aire his armes betweene,
In steed of her, then heedfull he doth harke,
To find her by the sound that was not seene,
And whence the same doth come he wel doth mark.
But on went she untill it was her lote
To come into a silly shepheards cote.
10
And though this fame were far from any towne,
Yet there she quickly did her selfe provide
Of meate and drinke, and of a simple gowne,
Sufficient for the time her bare to hide,
Not suting for a Ladie of renowne,
That had bin ever clad in pompe and pride,
Had gownes of crimson, purple and carnasion,
Of evry colour, and of evry fashion.
11
But yet no kind of weed so base or ill is,
Her of her princely beauty to bereave,
They that so much extoll faire Amarillis,
Or Galate, do but themselves deceave:
Cease Tyteras to praise thy golden Phillis,
Peace Melebe, this passes by your leave;
Ye souldiers all that serve in Cupids garrison,
May not presume with this to make comparison.
12
Now here the damsell faire a palfrey hired,
With other things most needfull for her way,
And meanes to her owne home to have retired,
From whence she had bin absent many a day.
The while Rogero now with travell tired,
Lamenting he had lost so faire a pray,
Doth seeke his horse who had not long bin idle,
But in his masters absence brake his bridle.
13
Which when he found, the raines in peeces torne,
The horse soard far away with mighty wing,
How could such haps with patientnesse be borne,
Of one great losse to find a greater spring?
He sitteth in a dumpe, like one forlorne,
For losse of her, his horse, and of his ring,
Whose vertue great did make him much repent it,
But yet much more her vertue that had sent it.
14
And in this rage he puts his armor on,
And on his shoulder carieth his shield,
Pursuing that first path he fights upon,
He found it brought him to a goodly field,
One side whereof when he a while had gone,
It seemd the wood adjoynd some sound did yeeld,
And still the neare and nearer that he goes,
The plainer sound he heard of sturdy bloes.
15
A combat twixt a Giant and a Knight,
He sees hard by most furiously begunne,
The Giant with a club doth think by might,
The battell of the tother to have wonne;
The tother with his sword and nimble fight,
His furious blowes with watchfull eye doth shunne,
Rogero seeing this great inequalitie,
Yet standeth still and shewes no partialitie.
16
But in his mind he wisht the Knight to win,
When lo the Giant with new fury fed,
To lay on lode with both hands doth begin,
And with one blow he layes him downe for dead,
And straight in cruell sort he steppeth in,
For to disarme him, and cut off his head:
But when the Giant had the face disarmed,
Rogero knew the partie he had harmed.
17
He saw it was his Bradamant most deare,
Whom this same Giant would have made to die,
Wherefore with courage stout he steppeth neare,
The Giant to new combat to defie,
Who either heares him not, or would not heare,
Or meaneth not a conflict new to trie,
But tooke her up, and on his shoulders layd her,
And so in hast away from thence convayd her.
18
So have I seene a wolfe to beare away
A lambe from shepheards fold, so have I seene
An Eagle on a silly Dove to pray,
And soare aloft the skie and earth betweene:
Rogero hies him after as he may,
Untill he came unto a goodly greene,
But thother evry step so much out stept him,
That in his view Rogero scantly kept him.
19
But now a while of him I speake no more,
And to Orlando I returne againe,
Who having lost the sight of Holland shore,
Did hasten to Ebuda with much paine:
I did declare not many books before,
How he Cymoscos engin strange did gaine,
And to the bottome of the sea did throw it,
That none might find it out againe or know it.
20
And though his meaning and intent was so,
Yet vaine it was, as after was perceived,
For why, that serpent vile our auncient fo,
That Eva first in Paradise deceived,
Not much above two hundred yeares ago,
(As we from our forefathers have received)
From out the sea by necromancie brought it,
And then in Almanie afresh they wrought it.
21
They wrought it both in iron and in brasse,
The cunning and the art increasing still,
As oft by proofe we find it comes to passe,
The worse the worke, the greater growes the skill,
And to each kind a name assignd there was,
According to the first inventers will,
To tell the names of all were but a trouble,
Some demicanons, some are called double.
22
The Culverings to shoot a bullet farre,
The Falcon, Saker, Minion and the Sling,
Not armed men, but walled townes to marre,
Such divllish force is in this hellish thing.
Ye souldiers brave, and valiant men of warre,
Now cease to field your manly darts to bring,
And get a hargubush upon your shoulder,
Or else in vaine you sue to be a souldier.
23
How didst thou find (oh filthy foule invention)
A harbor safe in any humane hart?
Thou makst a coward get the souldiers pension,
And souldiers brave thou robst of due desart,
Whole millions have bin slaine, as stories mention,
Since first devised was this wicked art,
France, Italy and England chiefe may rew it,
Since first they usd this art, and first they knew it.
24
The English bowmen may go burne their boes,
And breake their shafts and cut in two the string,
That weapon now may keepe the come from croes,
That did the French at Agincourt so sting:
But to that wight I wish a world of woes,
That did to light device so divllish bring,
Let him be givn into the hands of Sathan,
To be tormented ay with Core and Dathan.
25
Now good Orlando though he greatly strived,
With speed to get him to the Ile of wo,
Yet first the Irish King was there arrived,
By chance, or else that God would have it so,
Because it might the better be contrived,
On wrongfull wights his judgements just to show.
But when Ebuda once in sight appeared,
Orlando all the company straight cheared.
26
And putting off his armes of colour sable,
He bids the master out to launch his boate,
And in the same an anker strong and cable,
With which he meanes unto this Ile to floate,
Not doubting (if lucke serve) he will be able,
To put the anker in the monsters throate.
And thus alone the noble Knight doth venter,
Into the Ile Ebuda then to enter.
27
Now was the time when as Aurora faire,
Began to shew the world her golden head,
And looke abroad to take the coole fresh aire,
Tythono lying still in jealous bed,
When as Orlando hither did repaire,
By two blind guides, Cupid and Fortune led,
When lo unto the shore his shipboate turning,
He seemd to heare a noise as one were mourning.
28
At which strange sound casting his eye aside,
He might discerne a goodly damsell naked,
With armes abrode unto the rocke fast tide,
That what with cold and what with terror shaked,
Eftsoones the hideous monster he espide,
Whose sight might well have made stout harts have quaked,
Orlandos mind therewith is not amated,
Nor his high courage any whit abated.
29
He gets betweene the monster and his pray,
That pray that he so hotly doth pursue,
And (for before he was resolvd what way
He would attempt the monster to subdue)
Upon his shoulder doth the anker lay,
And when he came within his ugly view,
Even mauger all his malice, might and rancor,
Into his open jawes he beares the ancor.
30
As they that dig in mine of cole or stone,
The same in sundry places underprop,
Lest it should fall when least they thinke thereon,
And so their breath or else their passage stop:
So is this anker fastend in the bone,
Both in the bottome of his mouth and top,
That though he would againe he could not close it,
Nor wider open it for to unlose it.
31
Now having gagd his hideous chaps so sure,
That out and in he can with safetie go,
He enters with his sword the place obscure,
And there bestoweth many a thrust and blow,
And as that citie cannot be secure,
That hath within her wals receivd her so,
No safer could this Orke be now from danger,
That in his entrals hath receivd a stranger.
32
But griped now with pangs of inward paine,
Sometime he plungeth up unto the skie,
Sometime he diveth to the deepe againe,
And makes the troubled sands to mount on hie:
Orlando feels the sea come in amaine,
That forced him at last his swimming trie.
He swims to shore with body strong and able,
And beares upon his neck the ankers cable.
33
And as a savage Bull that unaware
About his hornes hath now a cord fast bound,
Doth strive in vaine to breake the hunters snare,
And skips and leaps, and flings, and runneth round,
So though Orlando with his strength so rare,
Assaid to draw him nearer to the ground,
Yet doth he fetch an hundred frisks and more,
Ere he could draw him up upon the shore.
34
His wounded bowels shed such store of blood,
They call that sea the red sea to this howre,
Sometime he breathed such a sudden flood,
As made the clearest weather seeme to lowre,
The hideous noise fild evry cave and wood,
So that god Proteus doubting his owne powre,
Fled straight fro thence, himselfe in corners hiding,
Not daring longer here to make abiding.
35
And all the gods that dwell in surging waves,
With this same tumult grew in such a feare,
They hid themselves in rocks and hollow caves,
Lest that Orlando should have found them there:
Neptune with triple mace by flight him saves,
His charret drawne with dolphins doth him beare,
Nor yet behind Glaucus or Triton taried,
For feare in these new broiles to have miscaried.
36
Those Ilanders that all this while attended,
And saw the monster drawne to land and tane,
With superstition moved much, condemned
This godly worke for wicked and profane;
As though that Proteus would be new offended,
That had before, and now might worke their bane.
They doubt he wold (thus fools their good haps consters)
Send to their land his flock of ugly monsters.
37
And therefore Proteus anger to appease,
They meane to drowne Orlando if they can,
Whose deed they deemd his godhead did displease:
And evn as fire doth creepe from bran to bran,
Untill the pile of wood it wholy cease,
So doth this fury grow from man to man,
That they concluded all upon the matter,
To throw Orlando bound into the water.
38
One takes a sling, another takes a bowe,
This with a sword is armd, he with a speare,
And some afore, and some behind him go,
Some neare approch, some stand aloofe for feare:
He museth much what his ungratefull fo
Should meane, for benefits such mind to beare:
And inwardly he was displeasd and sory,
To find such wrong where he deserved glory.
39
As little curres that barke at greatest Beare,
Yet cannot cause him once his way to shunne,
No more doth he these curlike creatures feare,
That like a sort of mad men on him runne.
And (for they saw he did no armor weare)
They thought the feat would have bin easly done,
They knew not that his skin from head to foote,
Was such to strike on it, it was no boote.
40
But when that he his Durindana drew,
He layd therewith about him in such sort,
That straight their faintnes and his force they knew,
They found to fight with him it was no sport.
Thrise ten of them at blowes but ten he slew,
Their fellowes fled that saw them cut so short,
Which foes thus foild, Orlando now intended
Tunloose the Ladie whom he had defended.
41
But now this while, behold the Irish band
Arrived neare unto their chiefest citie,
Who had no sooner set their foote on land,
But that forthwith they put apart all pittie,
And slue all sorts that came unto their hand,
The fierce, the faint, the foolish and the wittie,
Thus weret just doome, or were it cruell rage,
They spard of neither sexe nor neither age.
42
Thus thIle of wo is made a wofull Ile,
And for the peoples sake they plague the place,
Orlando sets the Lady free the while,
That there was bound in that unseemly case,
To have bin given unto the monster vile:
And viewing well, he cald to mind her face,
And that it should Olympia be he guessed,
But twas Olympia that had thus bin dressed.
43
Distrest Olympia thus unkindly served,
Whom love and fortune made a double scorne:
For first of him, of whom she best deserved,
She was forsaken quite and left forlorne.
And next by pyrats taken and reserved,
Of monster vile to be in peeces torne.
And in this case the good Orlando found her,
And then with great compassion he unbound her.
44
And thus he said, now tell what strange annoy,
Or evill hap hath hurt thy happy raigne?
Whom late I left in solace and in joy,
Why do I find in danger and in paine?
How is the blisse that thou didst then enjoy,
So changd and turnd to misery againe?
And she in wofull manner thus replied,
When shame her cheeks with crimson first had died.
45
I know not if my chance or else my choice,
If fortune or my folly be in blame.
Shall I lament, or shall I now rejoyce,
That live in wo, and should have dide in shame?
And as she spake, the teares did stop her voice:
But when againe unto her selfe she came,
She told him all the wofull story weeping,
How false Byreno had betraid her sleeping.
46
And how from that same Ile where he betrayd her,
A crew of cursed pyrats did her take,
And to this wicked Iland had convayd her,
For that same foule and ugly monsters sake,
Where now it was Orlandos hap to ayd her:
She walked naked when these words she spake.
Looke how Diana painted is in tables,
Among the rest of Ovids pleasant fables.
47
Of whose sharpe doome the Poet there doth tell,
How she with hornes Actaeon did invest,
Because he saw her naked at the well:
So stands Olympia faire, with face and brest,
And sides, and thighes to be discerned well,
And legs and feet, but yet she hides the rest.
And as they two were talking thus together,
Oberto King of Irish Ile came thither.
48
Who being moved at the strange report,
That one alone the monster should assaile,
And gag him with an anker in such sort,
To make his strength, and life, and all to faile,
Then draw him to the shore as ship to port
Is towd with ropes, without or oares or saile.
This made him go to find Orlando out,
The while his souldiers spoiled all about.
49
Now when the King this worthy Knight did see,
Though all with bloud and water foule distaind,
Yet straight he guest it should Orlando be,
For in his youth in France he had remained,
And knew the Lords and Knights of best degree,
In Charles his court a page of honor trained:
Their old acquaintance causd at this new meeting,
They had a loving and a friendly greeting.
50
And then Orlando told the Irish King,
How and by whom Olympia was abused,
By one whom out of danger great to bring,
She had no paine nor death it selfe refused,
How he himselfe was witnesse of the thing.
While they thus talke, Oberto her perused,
Whose sorrowes past, renewd with present feares,
Did fill her lovely eyes with watry teares.
51
Such colour had her face, as when the Sunne
Doth shine on watry cloud in pleasant spring,
And evn as when the sommer is begunne,
The Nightingales in boughes do sit and sing,
So that blind god, whose force can no man shunne,
Sits in her eyes, and thence his darts doth fling,
And bathes his wings in her cleare cristall streames,
And sunneth them in her rare beauties beames.
52
In these he heates his golden headed dart,
In those he cooleth it, and temperd so,
He levels thence at good Obertos hart,
And to the head he drawth it in his bow.
Thus is he wounded deepe and feeles no smart,
His armor cannot fend so fierce a blow:
For while on her faire eyes and limbs he gaped,
The arrow came that could not be escaped.
53
And sure Olympias beauties were so rare,
As might well move a man the same to note,
Her haire, her eyes, her cheeks most amorous are,
Her nose, her mouth, her shoulders and her throte,
As for her other parts that then were bare,
Which she was wont to cover with her cote,
Were made in such a mould as might have moved
The chast Hipolytus her to have loved.
54
A man would thinke them framd by Phydias arts,
Their colour and proportion good was such,
And unto them her shamefastnesse imparts
A greater grace to that before was much:
I cease to praise those other secret parts,
As not so fit to talke of as to tuch,
In generall all was as white as milke,
As smooth as ivory, and as soft as silke.
55
Had she in valley of Idea beene,
When Pastor Paris hap did so befall,
To be a judge three goddesses betweene,
She should have got, and they forgone the ball.
Had she but once of him bene naked seene,
For Helena he had not card at all,
Nor broke the bonds of sacred hospitalitie,
That bred his country warres and great mortalitie.
56
Had she but then bene in Crotana towne,
When Zeuxes for the goddesse Junos sake,
To paint a picture of most rare renowne,
Did many of the fairest damsels make
To stand before him bare from foote to crowne,
A patterne of their perfect parts to take,
No doubt he would have all the rest refused,
And her alone in steed of all have chused.
57
I doubtlesse deeme Byreno never viewd,
Her naked corps, for certaine if he had,
He could not so all humane sence exclude,
To leave her thus alone in state so bad:
But briefly all this matter to conclude,
It seemd Oberto would have bin full glad,
In this her wo, her misery and need,
To comfort her by either word or deed.
58
And straight he promist that he would attend her,
And set her in her country if he may,
And mauger all her enemies defend her,
And take revenge on him did her betray.
And that he might both men and money lend her,
He would to pawne his realme of Ireland lay,
Nor till she were restord aske no repayment,
And straight he sought about to get her raiment.
59
They need not travell farre to find a gowne,
For why immediatly they found good store,
By sending to the next adjoyning towne,
The which his men of warre had spoild before,
Where many a worthy Ladie of renowne,
That had bene naked tide unto the shore,
And many a tender virgin and unsoiled,
Were of their raiment and their lives despoiled.
60
And yet for all they were so richly gownd,
Oberto could not cloath her as he wold,
No not in Florence (though it doth abound
With rich embroderies of pearle and gold)
Could any peece of precious stuffe be found,
Of worth to serve to keepe her from the cold,
Whose shape was so exact in every part,
Even hard to match by nature or by art.
61
Orlando with this love was well content,
As one that hither came with other end,
For sith he mist Angelica, he ment
His journey backe to France againe to bend.
With them by ship to Ireland first he went,
As in his way, and with the King his friend,
Not hearing, had his love bin here or no,
For all were dead that could have told him so.
62
At both their sutes he scant staid there one day,
His passing love such passions in him bred,
But ere he went he doth Oberto pray
To do for her as much as he had sed,
And parting so from thence he tooke his way,
Evn as his fortune and his fancie led,
But good Oberto need not be desired,
To do as much or more then he required.
63
For few dayes past but that with her he went
To Holland, where he raised such commotion,
That straight Byreno taken was and shent,
Receiving on three trees a just promotion:
And all those countries did forthwith consent,
To sweare them faith and be at their devotion.
Thus of a countesse she is made a Prince,
And lives in joy and solace ever since.
64
Orlando bends his course to Brittish shore,
Whence he not long before to ship did mount,
Where he had left his famous Brilliadore,
A goodly courser and of good account,
No doubt of valiant acts he did good store,
Though what they were I cannot here recount,
For such a minde he carride still unto them,
He cared not to tell them, but to do them.
65
But in what fashion he did passe the rest
Of that unfortunate and fatall yeare,
I say by me it cannot be exprest,
Because thereof no record doth appeare,
But when the spring did ground with green invest,
And sunne in Gemini made weather cleare,
Then did he acts both worthie of reciting,
And to be kept in everlasting writing.
66
From hils to dales, from woods to pastures wide,
From waters fresh unto the salt sea shore,
To seeke his love he up and downe doth ride,
The lesse he finds he seeketh still the more,
At last he heard a voice for helpe that cride,
He drawes his sword and spurs his Brilliadore.
But to refresh the reader now tis reason,
And stay my storie to a better season.
ARGUMENT
THE TWELFTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Orlando doth pursue with great disdaine,
One that did seeme his love by force to carrie:
Rogero led by such another traine,
With him doth in the charmed pallace tarrie:
Orlando parting from the place againe,
He sees indeed her whom he faine would marrie,
Fights with Ferraw, and foiles two Turkish bands,
And findes faire Isabell in outlawes hands.
TWELFTH BOOKE
1
Faire Ceres when she hastned backe againe,
From great Idea homeward to returne,
There where Enceladus with endles paine,
Doth beare mount AEtna that doth ever burne,
When she had sought her daughter long in vaine,
Whose losse so strange did make the mother mourne,
She spoiles for spite her brest, cheeks, eyes and heare,
At last two boughs from Pyne tree she doth teare.
2
In Vulcans forge she sets on fire the brands,
And gives them powre for ever to be light,
And taking one a peece in both her hands,
And drawne in coach by yoaked serpents might,
She searcheth woods and fields and seas and lands,
And brooks and streames and dens devoyd of light,
And hearing here on earth no newes to like her,
At last she went to hell it selfe to seeke her.
3
Were good Orlandos powre to be compared,
As well with Ceres as his loving minde,
He would no paine, no place, nor time have spared,
His deare belovd Angelyca to finde,
To go to rocks and caves he would have dared,
And place to saints, and place to fends assignd,
He onely wanted one of Ceres waggons,
In which she carried was with flying draggons.
4
How he did search all France before he told,
Now Italy to search is his intent,
And Germany and Castill new and old,
And then to Affrica to passe he ment,
And as he thus determined, behold
He heard a voice that seemed to lament,
And drawing nye, to understand what tyding,
On a great horse he saw a horse man ryding.
5
Perforce he bare upon his saddle bow,
A Lady sorrowfull and sore afrayd,
That cryde aloud still making open show,
Of inward griefe, and thus to him she said,
O worthy wight (Lord of Anglante) know
I dye, I dye without you bring me ayd,
And then he thought comming more nie to vew her,
It was Angelyca, and that he knew her.
6
I say not that it was, but that it seemd,
To be Angelyca that thus was caryd,
But he that justly great disgrace it deemd,
Thus in his sight, to have his mistresse haryd,
Whose love above all treasures he esteemd,
To take revenge hereof he nothing taryd,
But put his spurres to Brilliadores sides,
And in great hast to that same horseman rydes.
7
With many bloodie words and cruell threats,
He bids that horseman to come backe againe,
But he at naught his words and speeches sets,
Rejoycing in so rich a gotten gayne,
The when still ground of Orlando gets,
Untill they came into a faire large plaine,
Wherein a house of great estate was built,
The gate hereof in gorgeous sort was gilt.
8
The building all of marble faire was wrought,
Most costly carvd and cunningly contrived,
To this faire house, his pray the foule thiefe brought,
Straight after him Orlando there arrived:
Then he alights and all about he sought,
For him that had him of his joy deprived,
He maketh search in chambers all about,
And galleries and halls to finde them out.
9
Each roome he finds set forth with rich aray,
With beds of silke, and gold of curious art,
But yet he finds not that desired pray,
The want whereof did sore torment his heart.
There might he finde with like affliction stray,
Gradasso, Sacrapant and Brandimart,
And feirce Ferraw possest with strange confusion,
Procured in that place by strong illusion.
10
They all complaine in anger and in rage,
How of this house the master them hath used,
One lost his horse, another lost his page,
Another doubts his mistresse is abused:
Thus are they kept like birds within a cage,
And stand with sense and wits and words confused
And manic with this strange deception carried,
Within this place both weeks & months had tarrid.
11
Orlando when he saw he could not learne,
Where this same theefe his mistresse had convaid,
Though she was carride out at some posterne,
Wherefore within no longer time he staid,
But walkes about the castle to discerne,
If that were true of which he was afraid:
But as he walked up and downe the plaine,
He thought he heard her call him backe againe.
12
And to a window casting up his eye,
He thought he saw her face full of divinity,
And that he heard her plainly thus to crie,
O noble wight of proved magnanimitie,
Helpe now, or never helpe, alas shall I
In mine Orlandos sight leese my virginitie?
Kill me, or let a thousand deaths befall me
Rather then let a villaine so to thrall me.
13
These wofull speeches once or twise repeted,
Causd him returne into the house againe,
And searching once againe he chafte and freted,
(Hope still asswaging somewhat of his paine)
And oft he heard the voice that counterfeted
The speech of his Angelica most plaine.
From side to side he followd still the sound,
But of Angelica no signe he found.
14
Now while Orlando tarrid in this trance,
In hope for to avenge his mistresse harmes,
Rogero (who I told you had this chaunce)
To see his Bradamant in gyants armes,
(Drawne to this place with such another daunce)
Namely by force of some unusuall charmes,
Saw first the gyant in this castle enter,
And after him he boldly doth adventer.
15
But when he came within the castle walls,
And made much narrow search, as in such case,
In garrets, towrs, in parlers and in halls,
And under staires and many a homely place,
Oft casting doubts what hurt his love befalls,
Or lest the theefe were gone in this meane space,
Forthwith he walketh out into the plaine,
And heares a voice recall him backe againe.
16
That voice that lately did Orlando make
Returne in hope Angelica to finde,
Rogero now for Bradamant doth take,
Whose love no lesse possest his carefull minde:
And when the voice unto Gradasso spake,
Or Sacrapant, or Brandimart most kinde,
To every one of these it plainely seemed,
To be her voice whom each one best esteemed.
17
Atlanta had procurd this strange invention,
Thereby to keepe Rogero from mischance,
Because he saw it was the heavens intention,
That he by treason should be kild in France,
Ferraw and those of whom I last made mention,
With all whom vallew highest did advance,
To keepe him companie he here detained,
With good provision while they here remained.
18
And while these knights with strange enchantments bound
Do here abide, behold the Indian queene
Angelica that late her ring had found,
(Whose vertue can her cause to go unseene,
And also frustrate magick still profound)
Now longing home, where long she had not been,
And being now of needfull things provided,
Yet wants she one that her might home have guided.
19
Orlandos company she would have had,
Or Sacrapant, she card not which of twaine,
Not that of eithers love she would be glad,
For them and all the world she did disdaine,
But (for the way was dangerous and bad,
In time of warre to travell France and Spaine)
She wisht for her owne safetie and her ease,
To have the company of one of these.
20
Wherefore a while she travels up and downe,
To seeke for them that long in vaine had sought her,
And passing many woods and many a towne,
Unto this place at last good fortune brought her,
Where whe she saw these knights of great renowne,
Thus seek for her, she scant abstaines from laughter,
To see Atlantas cunning and dissembling,
Her person and her voice so right resembling.
21
Her selfe unseene sees them and all the rest,
Now meanes she sure to take one of them two,
But yet she knowes not which (her doubtfull brest
Did stay as unresolved what to do)
Orlandos valour could defend her best,
But then this doubt is added thereunto,
That when she once so highly had prefard him,
She shall not know againe how to discard him.
22
But Sacrapant although she should him lift
High up to heaven yet maketh she no doubt,
But she will find some sleight and pretie shift,
With her accustomd coynesse him to lout:
To him she goes, resolved of this drift,
And straight the precious ring she taketh out
From of her mouth, which made her go concealed,
With mind to him alone to be revealed.
23
But straight came in Orlando and Ferraw,
That both desired, her to have enjoyd,
Thus all of them at once their goddesse saw,
Not being now by magick art annoyd,
For when the ring on finger she did draw,
She made unwares all their enchantments voyd,
These three were all in complete armor, save
Ferraw no headpeece had, nor none would have.
24
The cause was this, he solemnely had sworne,
Upon his head no helmet should be set,
But that that was by stout Orlando worne,
Which he did erst from Trajans brother get,
Ferraw to weare a helmet had forborne,
Since with the ghost of Argall he had met:
Thus in this sort they came together armed,
By vertue of her ring now all uncharmed.
25
All three at once do now the damsell view,
All three at once on her would straight have seased.
All three her faithfull lovers were she knew,
Yet with all three at once she is displeased,
And from all three she straight her selfe withdrew,
Who (haply) one at once would her have pleased,
From henceforth none of them she thinks to need,
But that the ring shall serve in all their steed.
26
She hastens hence and will no longer stay,
Disdaine and feare together make her swift,
Into a wood she leades them all the way,
But when she saw there was none other shift,
Into her mouth the ring she doth convay,
That ever holpe her at the deadest lift,
And out of all their sights forthwith she vanishd,
And leaves them all with wonder halfe astonishd.
27
Onely one path there was, and that not wide,
In this they followd her with no small hast,
But she first causd her horse to step aside,
And standeth still a while till they were past,
And then at better leisure she doth ride,
A farre more easie pace, and not so fast,
Untill they three continuing still their riding,
Came to a way in sundry parts dividing.
28
And comming where they found no further tracke,
Ferraw, that was before the tother two,
In choler and in fury great turnd backe,
And askt the other what they meant to do,
And (as his manner was to brag and cracke)
Demaunded how they durst presume to wo,
Or follow her, whose propertie he claimed,
Except they would of him be slaine or maimed.
29
Orlando straight replide, thou foolish beast,
Save that I see thou doest an helmet want,
I would ere this have taught thee at the least,
Hereafter with thy betters not to vant:
Ferraw doth thanke him for his care (in jeast)
And said it shewd his wits were very scant,
For as he was he would not be afraid,
To prove against them both that he had said.
30
Sir, said Orlando to the Pagan King,
Lend him your headpeece, and ere we go hence,
I will this beast in better order bring,
Or sharply punish him for his offence.
Nay soft (said Sacrapant) that were a thing,
The which to grant might shew I had no sence,
Lend you him yours, for Ile not go to schoole,
To know as well as you to bob a foole.
31
Tush (quoth Ferraw) fooles to your faces both,
As though if I had bin disposd to weare one,
I would have sufferd (were you leive or loth)
The best and proudest of you both to beare one,
The truth is this, that I by solemne oth
Upon a certaine chance did once forsweare one,
That on my head no helmet should be donne,
Untill I had Orlandos helmet wonne.
32
What (quoth the Earle) then seems it unto thee,
Thy force so much Orlandos doth surmount,
That thou couldst do the same to him, that he
Unto Almonta did in Aspramount?
Rather I thinke, if thou his face should see,
Thou wouldst so farre be wide of thine account,
That thou wouldst tremble over all thy body,
And yeeld thy selfe and armour like a nody.
33
The Spanish vaunter (like to all the nation)
Said he had often with Orlando met,
And had him at advantage in such fashion,
That had he list he might his helmet get,
But thus (quoth he) the time brings alteration,
That now I seeke, I then at naught did set,
To take his helmet from him then I spared,
Because as then for it I little cared.
34
Then straight Orlando movd in rightfull anger,
Made answer thus, thou foole and murren lier,
I cannot now forbeare thee any longer,
I am whom thou to find dost so desire,
When met we two that thou didst part the stronger?
Thou thoughtst me farder, thou shalt feele me nier,
Try now if thou beest able me to foyle,
Or I can thee of all thy armour spoyle.
35
Nor do I seeke to take this ods of thee,
This said, forthwith his helmet he untide,
And hung the same fast by upon a tree,
Then drew his Durindana from his side;
And in like sort you might the Spaniard see,
That was no whit abated of his pride,
How he his sword and target straight prepard,
And lay most manfully unto his ward.
36
And thus these champions do the fight begin
Upon their coursers fierce, themselves more fierce,
And where the armour joynes, and is most thin,
There still they strive with sturdy strokes to pierce:
Search all the world, and two such men therein
Could not be found, for as old books rehearse,
Their skins were such, as they had bin unarmed,
Yet could they not with weapons have bin harmed.
37
Ferraw had in his youth inchantment such,
That but his navell, hard was all the rest,
Unto Orlando there was done as much,
By prayer of some saint (as may be guest)
Save in his feet, which he let no man tuch,
Take it for truth, or take it for a jest,
Thus I have found it wrote, that they indeed
Ware armor more for shew then any need.
38
Thus twixt them two the fight continues still,
Yet not so sharpe in substance as in show;
Ferraw imploying all his art and skill,
Sharpe thrusts upon the tother to bestow:
Orlando that hath ever strength at will,
Layth on the Spaniard many a lustie blow:
Angelica doth stand fast by unseene,
And sees alone the battell them betweene.
39
For why the Pagan Prince was gone the while,
To find her out, when they together fought,
And by their strife, that he might both beguile,
He hopes, and had conceived in his thought:
He rides away, and travels many a mile,
And still his deare beloved mistris sought.
And thus it came to passe that she that day,
Was onely present at so great a fray.
40
Which when she saw continue in such sort,
Nor yet could guesse by ought that she did see,
Which was most like to cut the others short,
She takes away the helmet from the tree,
And thinks by this to make her selfe some sport,
Or they by this might sooner sundred be,
Not meaning in such sort away to set it,
But that the worthy Earle againe may get it.
41
And with the same away from hence she goes,
The while they two with paine and travell tired,
In giving and in taking deadly bloes,
Ferraw (that mist the headpeece first) retired,
And for he did most certainly suppose,
That Sacrapant had tane it undesired,
Good Lord (said he) what meane we here to do?
This other Knight hath cousened us two.
42
And unawares the helmet tane away,
Orlando hearing this, doth looke aside,
And missing it, he doth beleeve straight way,
As did Ferraw, and after him they ride:
They came at last into a parted way,
That in two parts it selfe doth there divide,
Fresh tracke in both of them was to be seene,
This of the Knight, that of the Indian Queene.
43
Orlandos hap was to pursue the Knight,
Ferraw, that was more luckie of the twaine,
Happend upon Angelica to light,
Who to refresh her former taken paine,
Fast by a fountaine did before alight,
And seeing sodainly the knight of Spaine,
Straight like a shadow from his sight she past,
And on the ground the helmet left with hast.
44
But as the sight of her did make him glad,
In hope by this good fortune her to get,
So thus againe to loose her made him sad,
And shewd that she did him at nothing set:
Then curst he as he had bin raging mad,
Blaspheming Trivigant and Mahomet,
And all the Gods adord in Turks profession,
The griefe in him did make so deepe impression.
45
Yet when he had Orlandos helmet spide,
And knew it was by letters writ thereon,
The same for which Trajanos brother dide,
He takes it quickly up and puts it on,
And then in hast he after her doth ride,
That was out of his sight so strangely gone,
He takes the helmet, thinking little shame,
Although he came not truly by the same.
46
But seeing she away from him was fled,
Nor where she was he knew nor could not guesse,
Himselfe from hence to Paris ward he sped,
His hope to find her waxing lesse and lesse:
And yet the sorrow that her losse had bred,
Was part asswagd, the helmet to possesse,
Though afterward when as Orlando knew it,
He sware great othes that he would make him rew it.
47
But how Orlando did againe it get,
And how Ferraw was plagued for that crime,
And how they two betweene two bridges met,
Whereas Ferraw was killed at that time,
My purpose is not to declare as yet,
But to another story turne my rime:
Now I must tell you of that Indian Queene,
By vertue of her ring that goeth unseene.
48
Who parted thence all sad and discontented,
That by her meanes Ferraw his will had got,
That she (with this unlookt for hap prevented)
Left him the helmet, though she meant it not,
And in her heart her act she sore repented,
And with her selfe she said, alas God wot,
I silly foole tooke it with good intention,
Thereby to breake their strife and sharpe contention.
49
Not that thereby this filthy Spaniard might
By helpe of my deceit and doing wrong,
Keepe that by fraud he could not win by might,
Alas to thy true love and service long,
A better recompence then this of right,
From me (my good Orlando) should belong:
And thus in this most kind and dolefull fashion,
She doth continue long her lamentation.
50
Now meaneth she to travell to the East,
Unto her native soile and country ground,
Her journey doth her other griefes digest,
Her ring doth in her journey keepe her sound;
Yet chanced she, ere she forsooke the West,
To travell neare a wood, whereas she found
A fine yong man betweene two dead men lying,
With wound in bleeding brest even then a dying.
51
But here a while I cease of her to treate,
Or Sacrapant, or of the Knight of Spaine,
First I must tell of many a hardy feate,
Before I can returne to them againe:
Orlandos actions I will now repeate,
That still endurd such travell and such paine,
Nor time it selfe, that sorrowes doth appease,
Could grant to this his griefe an end or ease.
52
And first the noble Earle an headpeece bought,
By late ill fortune having lost his owne,
For temper or the strength he never sought,
So it did keepe him but from being knowne.
Now Phoebus charret had the daylight brought,
And hid the starres that late before were showne,
And faire Aurora was new risen when
Orlando met two bands of armed men.
53
One band was led by worthy Manilard,
A man though stout, yet hoary haird for age,
Who with his men did make to Paris ward,
He not for warre, but fit for counsell sage:
Alsyrdo of the other had the guard,
Then in the prime and chiefe floure of his age,
And one that passed all the Turkish warriers,
To fight at tilt, at turney or at barriers.
54
These men with other of the Pagan host,
Had layne the winter past not far fro thence,
When Agramant did see his men were lost,
By vaine assaults unto his great expence,
And therefore now he sweares and maketh bost,
That he will never raise his siege fro thence,
Till they within that now had left the field,
Were forst by famine all their goods to yeeld.
55
And for that cause, now sommer comes againe,
He gets together all the men he may,
With new supplies of Affrike and of Spaine,
And some of France that did accept his pay,
But that in order due they may remaine,
He points them all to meet him in one day,
Who by commandement hither came in clusters,
To make appearance at the pointed musters.
56
Now when Alsyrdo saw Orlando there,
Inflamd with pride and glory of his mind,
He longed straight with him to breake a speare,
And spurs his horse, but quickly he doth find
Himselfe too weake so sturdy blowes to beare,
And wisheth now that he had staid behind,
He falleth from the horses back downe dead,
The fearfull horse without his master fled.
57
Straight there was raisd a mighty cry and shout,
By all the souldiers of Alsyrdos band,
When as they see their captaine (late so stout)
Throwne downe and killed by Orlandos hand:
Then out of ray they compast him about
On evry side in number as the sand,
They that are nie, with blowes do him assaile,
And those aloofe throw darts as thicke as haile.
58
Looke what a noise an herd of savage swine
Do make when as the wolfe a pig hath caught,
That doth in all their hearings cry and whine,
They flocke about as nature hath them taught:
So do these souldiers murmure and repine,
To see their captaine thus to mischiefe brought,
And with great fury they do set upon him,
All with one voice, still crying, on him, on him.
59
I say the nearer fight with sword and speare,
And those aloofe send shafts and many a dart,
But he that never yet admitted feare
To lodge in any harbour of his hart,
Upon his shield a thousand darts doth beare,
And thousands more on every other part,
Yet of them all makes no more care nor keepe,
Then doth a Lion of a flocke of sheepe.
60
For when at once his fatall blade he drew,
That blade so often bathd in Pagans blood,
No steele there was of temper old or new,
Nor folded cloths the edge thereof withstood,
About the field, heads, legs, armes, shoulders flew,
The furrowes all did flow with crimson flood,
Death goeth about the field rejoycing mickle,
To see a sword that so surpast his sickle.
61
This made the Pagan rout so sore agast,
He that could swiftest runne was best apaid,
And as they came, so fled they now as fast,
One brother for another never staid:
No memory of love or friendship past,
Could make one stay to give another aid,
He that could gallop fastest was most glad,
Not asking if the wayes were good or bad.
62
Onely one man there was in all the field,
That had so long in vertues schoole bin bred,
That rather then to turne his backe or yeeld,
He meaneth there to leave his cark as dead:
Old Manylard, who taking up his sheeld,
Even as his valiant heart and courage led,
Sets spurs to horse, and in his rest a lance,
And runs against the Palladine of France.
63
Upon Orlandos shield his speare he brake,
Who never stird for all the manly blow,
But with his naked sword againe he strake,
And made him tumble ore the saddle bow:
Fortune on vertue did some pitie take,
For why, Orlandos sword fell flatling tho,
That though it quite amazd and overthrew him,
Yet by good hap it maimd him not nor slew him.
64
With great confusion all the other fled,
And now of armed men the field was voyd,
Save such as were or seemed to be dead,
So as Orlando now no more annoyd,
Went on his journey as his fancie led,
To seeke her, in whose sight he onely joyd,
Through plains and woods, through sandy ways and miry,
He travels making still of her enquiry.
65
Untill it was his fortune toward night
To come fast by a mountaine, in whose side
Forth of a cave he saw a glims of light,
And towards it he presently doth ride:
Then at the mouth thereof he doth alight,
And to a bush fast by his horse he tide,
He douts, as ever love is full of feare,
That his belovd Angelica was there.
66
Evn as the hunters that desirous are,
Some present pastime for their hounds to see,
In stubble fields do seeke the fearfull hare,
By evry bush, and under evry tree:
So he with like desire and greater care,
Seeks her that sole of sorrow can him free,
He enters boldly in the hollow cave,
And thinks of her some tidings there to have.
67
The entrance straight and narrow was to passe,
Descending steps into a place profound,
Whereas a certain faire yong Ladie was,
Kept by some outlawes prisner under ground,
Her beautie did the common sort surpasse,
So farre as scant her match was to be found,
So as that darke and solitary den,
Might seeme to be a Paradise as then.
68
On her an aged woman there did wait,
The which (as oft with women doth befall)
About some matter of but little waight,
Did happen at that time to chide and brall,
But when they saw a stranger comming, straight
They held their peaces, and were quiet all,
Orlando doth salute them with good grace,
And they do bid him welcome to the place.
69
Then after common words of salutation,
Although at first of him they were afraid,
Yet straight he enterd in examination,
By whom in that same cave they had bin staid
And who they were in so unseemly fashion,
That kept a comely and a noble maid?
And said, he saw it written in her face,
Her nurture and her linage were not base.
70
She told him straight how long she there had beene,
And by what hap she had bin thither brought,
Amid her words the sighs do passe betweene,
The corall and the pearle by nature wrought,
Sweet teares upon her tender cheeks were seene,
That came from fountaine of her bitter thought:
But soft, lest I should do the Reader wrong,
I end this booke, that else would be too long.
ARGUMENT
THE THIRTEENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Orlando beares Zerbynos love to tell,
Her strange misfortune and her hard adventer:
These outlawes that in that vast cave did dwell,
Orlando hangd that had in prison pent her.
Bradamant though Melissa did her tell
Atlantas frauds, yet doth his Pallace enter,
Where she is staid by force of Atlants charmes,
While Agramant musters his men of armes.
THRITEENTH BOOKE
1
Full ventrous were the noble knights of old,
And worthy that their fame should aye endure,
That durst with valiant heart and courage bold
Find out in dens and places all obscure,
Such as in courts we now but seeld behold,
Faire dames, of beauty, mind, and manners pure:
As erst I told you how Orlando found
A brave young Lady hidden under ground.
2
Now in my former matter to proceed,
I say when he had viewd her person well,
And markd her face and haviour with great heed,
He doth request the damsell faire to tell,
Who was the author of so foul a deed,
To force her in so unfit place to dwell:
And she as plaine and briefly as she can,
In this sweet sort her woful speech began.
3
Most worthy knight (she said) although I know,
That I shall buy my speech to you full deare,
(For sure I am, this woman here will show
My words to him that first did place me here)
Truth I will tell, though truth increase my woe,
And make him look on me with angry cheare:
Despaire hath ever danger all contemnd,
What should she feare that is evn now condemnd?
4
I am that Isabel that somtime was
A daughter deare unto the king of Spaine,
Well did I say I was, for now alas,
I am the child of anguish and of paine:
Love, onely love this great change brought to passe,
Love, only love of thee I may complaine,
That flattring alwaies in thy first beginnings,
Yeeldst certaine losse in stead of hoped winnings:
5
Then in good state I spent my happy daies,
Noble and young, honest and rich, and faire,
Now base, despised, poore, and wanting praise:
Drownd in a dungeon of most deep despaire,
Thus love throwes down whom fortune high doth raise,
And marrs the sport in which he is a plaier:
He that in art of love did shew his skill,
Saith, love and majestie agrees but ill.
6
But that I plainly may declare my mind,
Thus it fell out, my father twelve moneths since,
To make a famous triumph had assignd,
Unto the which came many a Lord and Prince:
Now whether liking did my eys so blind,
Or that his vertue did it selfe convince:
Zerbin (me thought) the king of Scotlands son
In this same triumph honour chief had won.
7
The passing feats of armes I saw him do,
In which he was compared with the best,
His person and his beauty joynd thereto,
In which he far surpassed all the rest,
Did cause that he no sooner did me wo,
But I as quickly granted his request:
Interpreters nor other means none wanted,
To make the seeds to grow that love had planted.
8
When as these feasts and solemne shewes were ended,
My Zerbin back againe to Scotland hasted,
Wherewith how grievously I was offended,
Well may you guesse, if ever love you tasted:
But he that cannot be too much commended,
Whose love to me no lesse in absence lasted,
With purpose and with promise firm to marry me,
Studid all means away from hence to carry me.
9
Twere vaine he thought to ask me of my sire,
(Zerbin a Christen, I a Sarazine)
Our country law contrarid that desire,
To which our loves so wholly did incline:
This feat doth some new stratagem require,
More heedfull, secret, circumspect and fine:
When love hath knit two hearts in perfit unity,
They seldome faile to finde their opportunity.
10
An house of great estate in Bayon towne,
My father had with gardens sweet and faire,
In which with large descents still going down
Unto a river comes the garden staire,
Here (if ill fortune on us do not frown)
He means when I shall walk to take the aire,
Soon to surprise me walking in an ally,
And so convey me to his armed gally.
11
But sith with him the case did then so stand,
Not to be present at this enterprise,
He sent me letters written with his hand,
By Oderike of Byskie stout and wise,
Expert in service both of sea and land,
And wils me do as he should me advise,
Whose faith he nothing doubteth to be found,
As one to him by benefits much bound.
12
This firm and fast, and sure obliged friend,
Of proved courage, value and of skill,
Against the time appointed he doth send:
And I that for their comming looked still,
Against the time appointed did descend,
To give him scope to work his masters will,
And he accordingly came unespid,
With armed men under the garden side.
13
I seeing them, my selfe most fearfull faine,
They seeing me soon of their purpose sped,
Those that resistance made, forthwith were slaine,
And some afraid and faint, like cowards fled,
The rest with me as prisners do remaine;
Then straight we were unto the gally led,
And gone so farre, we could not be recovered,
Before my father had the fact discovered.
14
Of this departure I my selfe was glad,
In hope ere long my Zerbin to have found,
But lo a sudden tempest made us sad,
And neare to Rochell almost had us drownd
The master of the ship no cunning had,
To keep the keel from striking on the ground:
It booted not against the waves to strive,
Upon sharp rocks the tempest doth us drive.
15
In vaine it was to pull down all our sailes,
And on the foreboord close to couch the mast,
No paine against the raging sea prevailes,
On land we look each minute to be cast:
Divine help oft doth come, when humane failes,
And when in reason all reliefe is past:
For doubtlesse I do deem by power divine,
We were preserved in this dangrous time.
16
The Byskin that the danger well doth note,
Doth meane a desprate remedy to trie,
He straightway launcheth out the little bote,
He and two more go down therein, and I,
This done, he cuts the rope and lets her flote,
Threatning with naked sword that he should die,
That durst presume to give so bold adventer,
Against our wils into the boat to enter.
17
The rope now cut, away the boat was carried
By force of waves unto the shallow shore,
And by great fortune none of us miscarried,
So great a plunge I never scapd before,
But they (poore soules) that in the gally tarried,
Were drownd, the vessell quite in peeces tore,
Where though my losse of stuffe and jewels grievd me,
My hope to see my Zerbin still relievd me.
18
Now being come to land (in lucklesse houre)
And trusting onely Oderikes direction,
Love (that doth ever love to shew his power,
In tempring or distempring our affection)
My good to ill, my sweet doth turn to sower,
My hope to hurt, my health into infection:
He in whose trust Zerbin so much relieth,
Freezeth in faith, and in new fancie frieth.
19
Now whether first at sea this humour grew,
Or els he moved was with new occasion,
To have me here alone with so small crew,
As from his will I could not make evasion,
He bids all faith and honesty adieu,
And yeelds himselfe unto this foul perswasion;
And that he may his pleasure surely warrant,
He sends the servants of a sleevelesse arrant.
20
Two men there were that had so lucky lot,
With us into the shipboat to descend,
One hight Almonio, by birth a Scot,
A valiant man, and Zerbins trusty friend,
Odrike tels him, that it beseemed not,
So few upon a Princesse to attend,
And that the daughter of the King of Spaine
Should go on foot, and with so small a traine.
21
Wherefore he wisheth him to go before
To Rochell, there a palfrey to provide,
And hire some men, a dozen or a score,
Me to my lodging mannerly to guide:
Almonio went, then was there left no more,
But Coreb, one of wit and courage trid,
In whom the Byskin put the more affiance,
Because that he was one of his alliance.
22
Yet long he seemd in doubtfull minde to hover,
Faine (if he could) he would have rid him thence,
At last he thinks so fast a friend and lover
Will with his friends iniquity dispence:
Wherefore he doth to him his minde discover,
In hope that he would further his offence,
And do as friends in our dayes have a fashion,
Advance their pleasure more then reputation.
23
But he whose honest minde could not suppose,
That Oderike had had so little grace,
The fact not only threatens to disclose,
But cals him false and traitor to his face:
From bitter words unto more bitter blowes,
They came and fought together in the place;
And I in this prospect no whit delighting,
Fled to the wood while they two were a fighting.
24
Between them two the combat was not long,
But lo the worser cause the better sped,
Whether he were more skilfull or more strong,
Odrike doth lay Corebo there for dead:
That done, he runs the woods and fern among,
And followes fast the way that I had fled,
I think that he god Cupids wings did borrow,
He made such hast to hasten on my sorrow.
25
Feare made me swift, for I was sore afraid,
Love made him swifter run to overtake me,
Then sore against my will my course he staid,
Then sundrily both foul and faire he spake me,
Somtime he promised, somtime he praid,
Somtime he threatned he by force would make me:
With suit, with gifts with threats he oft did prove me,
With suit, with gifts, with threats he nought did move me.
26
But when he could not with his words prevaile,
He doth resolve no further time to stay,
With open force he then did me assaile,
As doth a hungry Beare cease on his pray,
And I defended me with tooth and naile,
And cries, and skreeks, and all the wayes I may,
Nor was I in mine own defence afeard,
To scratch his eyes, and pull away his beard.
27
I know not if it were my skreetch and crie,
That might have well bin heard a league and more,
Or if it were their use that dwell thereby,
To come to seek some shipwracks on the shore,
But straight upon the hill we might descry,
Come toward us of company good store,
Which makes my Byskie man away to run,
And to surcease his enterprise begun.
28
Thus this unlookd for crew preservd me then,
And hindred him of his unjust desire:
But I was savd, as is the flounder, when
He leapeth from the dish into the fire.
For though these barbarous and savage men
To touch my person did not once aspire;
No vertuous thought did breed this moderation,
But hope of gaine and greedy inclination.
29
The Leader of this miserable band
Did think his market will be raised much,
In selling me, when men shall understand,
He sels a maid whom none did ever touch,
And now I heare a merchant is in hand,
Of him to buy me, if his luck be such;
From whom into the East I shall be sent,
Where to the Souldan they will me present.
30
And in this sort her wofull tale she told,
And mingled sighs with tears in rufull fashion,
Expressed with such dolefull words as would
Have movd a stony heart to take compassion:
It easd in part her mind, thus to unfold
The bitter cause of her unpleasant passion.
Now while Orlando to this tale attended,
The crew of caitives to the cave descended.
31
A barbarous and foul misshapen crew,
Armed, one with a spit, one with a prong,
Mouthes, eyes and face most ugly were to view,
One had no nose, anothers was too long:
But when their leader somwhat nearer drew,
And saw Orlando standing there among,
Turning to his companion he said,
Lo here a bird for whom no net we laid.
32
Then to the Earle he said, I am right glad
To find one so well armed in my cave,
For long for such an armour longd I had,
And surely now this I suppose to have:
How think you, when my person shall be clad
With this your coat, shall not I then be brave?
Wherefore good sir, think not your welcome scant,
That come so fitly to supply my want.
33
Orlando turning with a sower smile,
Answerd, his armour was of price too high,
And that he greatly did himselfe beguile,
That thought of him his armour there to buy:
And as they nearer came, he stoopt the while,
And took a brand that in the fire did lie,
And straight he threw it at the caitives head,
And laid him there along the floor for dead.
34
A short thick plank stood on a scrubby post,
That servd them for a boord to drink and eat,
This like a coight at them Orlando tost,
And (for the same full heavy was and great)
It fell down there among them to their cost,
They never saw before so strange a feat:
By which scarce one of them escaped harm,
In head, in leg, in brest, in side or arm.
35
So shall you see a country man that takes
In time of spring a brickbat or a stone,
And throwes the same upon a knot of snakes,
That lie together clusterd all in one,
How great a spoile the stone among them makes,
And those that scape, how quickly they be gone:
So did Orlando with these peasants play,
That glad were they that scapd to run away.
36
Those that could scape the heavy tables fall,
Unto their feet commended their defence,
Which were (as Turpin writes) but seven in all,
Which seven were glad to run away from thence:
But yet their flying brought them help but small,
Orlando means to punish their offence,
Their feet, nor yet their fence could them so guard,
But that he brought them to the hanging ward.
37
Now when the foresaid aged woman saw,
In how bad sort these friends of hers were servd,
She was affeard, for well she knew by law,
That no lesse punishment she had deservd.
Forthwith from thence she stale away for aw,
And up and down the desart wood she swervd,
Untill at last a warriour stout her met,
But who it was I may not tell as yet.
38
The tender damsell doth Orlando pray,
Her chastity and honour to protect,
Who made her go with him, and from that day
Had unto her a fatherly respect:
Now as they went, a prisner by the way
They saw, whose name I may not now detect.
Now should I speak of Bradamant by right,
Whom erst I left in such a dolefull plight.
39
The valourous Lady looking long in vaine,
When her Rogero would to her return,
Lay in Marsilia to the Pagans paine,
Where evry day she did them some shrewd turn;
For some of them in Provence did remaine,
And Languedock where they did spoile and burn,
Till with her value she did them rebuke,
Supplying place of captaine and of duke.
40
Now on a day as she sate still and mused,
The time of his appointment long expird,
Doubting lest she by him might be abusd,
Or that her company he not desird;
And often when she blamd, she straight excusd:
Thus while with carefull thought her self she tird,
Melissa whom she thought not to be neare her,
Came suddenly of purpose for to cheare her.
41
With pleasant countenance Melissa sage,
Much like to those that carie welcome newes,
Wils her, her causlesse sorrow to asswage,
And good Rogeros absence doth excuse,
Swearing that she durst lay her life to gage,
He would not absent be, if he might chuse,
And that he did now in his promise hault,
Was not by his but by anothers fault.
42
Wherefore (quoth she) get you to horseback straight
If you would set your faithfull lover free,
And I my selfe intend on you to wait,
Till you his prison with your eye shall see,
Whereas Atlanta with a strange deceit
Detaineth men, of base and high degree,
And showes by strange illusion distrest,
Each one the party whom he loveth best.
43
Each one doth deeme he sees in great distresse,
His love, his friend, his fellow or his page,
According as mens reasons more or lesse,
Are weak or strong such passion to asswage:
Thus do they follow this their foolish guesse,
Untill they come like birds into a cage,
Searching the pallace with a pensive heart,
The great desire not suffring them to part.
44
Now then (said she) when you shall once draw nigh,
Where this same Necromancer strange doth dwell,
He will your comming and the cause descry,
And to delude you (mark me what I tell)
He straight will offer there unto your eye
(By help of some inhabitants of hell)
Rogeros person, all in wofull plight,
As though he had been conquered in fight.
45
And if you follow, thinking him to aid,
Then will he stay you as he doth the rest,
But kill him therefore, and be not afraid,
For so you shall your friend deliver best:
So shall your foe Atlanto be betraid
In his own trap when as he looketh left,
And feare not when he commeth by to strike him,
Though he your deare resemble, and look like him.
46
I know full well how hard twill be to try,
And how your heart will faile, and hand will tremble
When you shall go about to make one dy,
That shall Rogeros shape so right resemble:
But in this case you may not trust your ey,
But all your sprites and forces all assemble:
For this assure you, if you let him go,
You work your own and your Rogeros wo.
47
The Proverb saith, one that is warnd is armd,
The which old saw, doth prove by due construction,
That they that after warning had are harmd,
Did ill regard or follow good instruction.
Now Bradamant rides to the place so charmd,
And vowd that old Magicians destruction,
And that they may the tedious way beguile,
They spend the time in pleasant talk the while.
48
And oft Melissa doth to her repeat
The names of those that should be her posterity,
That should in force and deeds of armes be great,
But greater in Religion and sincerity,
Atchieving many a strange and worthy feat,
And use both head and hand with great dexterity,
In ruling just, and bountifull in giving,
Caesars in fight, and Saints in godly living.
49
Now when Melissa sage such things did show,
The noble Lady modestly replid,
Sith God (quoth she) doth give you skill to know,
The things that shall in future times betide,
And means on me (unworthy) to bestow
An issue such as few shall have beside,
Tell me, among so many men of name,
Shall there no woman be of worthy fame?
50
Yes many a one (said she) both chast and wise,
Mothers to such as beare imperiall crownes,
Pillars and stayes of royall families,
Owners of realmes, of countries and of townes,
Out of thy blessed offspring must arise,
Such as shall be evn in their sober gownes,
For chastity and modesty as glorious,
As shall their husbands be in warre victorious.
51
Nor can I well, or do I now intend,
To take upon me all their names to tell,
For then my speech would never have an end,
I find so many that deserve so well,
Onely I mean a word or two to spend,
Of one or two that do the rest excell:
Had you but talkd hereof in Merlins cave,
You should have seen the shapes that they shall have.
52
Shall I begin with her whose vertue rare
Shall with her husband live in happy strife,
Whether his valiant actions may compare,
Or be preferd before her honest life?
He fights abroad against king Charles at Tare,
She staid at home a chast and sober wife:
Penelope in spending chast her dayes,
As worthy as Ulisses was of praise.
53
Then next dame Beatrice the wife somtime
Of Lodwicke Sforze, surnamed eke the More:
Wise and discreet, and known without all crime,
Of fortunes gifts, and vertues having store:
Her husband livd most happy all her time,
And in such state as few have livd before:
But after fell from being Duke of Millen,
To be a captive fetterd like a villen.
54
To passe the famous house I should be sorie,
Of Aragon, and that most worthy queen,
Whose match in neither greek nor latine storie,
Or any writer els hath ever been:
And full to perfect her most worthy glory,
Three worthy children shall of her be seen:
Of whom the heavens have pointed her the mother,
Isbell by name, Alfonso and his brother.
55
As silver is to tin, as gold to brasse,
As roses are to flowers and herbs more base,
As diamonds and rubyes are to glasse,
As cedars are to fallowes: in like case
Shall famous Leonora others passe,
In vertue, beauty, modesty and grace:
But above all, in this she shall excell,
In bringing up her children passing well.
56
For as the vessell ever beares a tast
Of that same juyce wherewith it first was fild,
And as in fruitfull ground the seed growes fast,
That first is sowne when as the same is tild:
So look what lore in youthful yeares is placd,
By that they grow the worse or better wild,
When as they come to manly age and stature,
Sith education is another nature.
57
Then next her neece, a faire and famous dame,
That hight Renata I may not forget,
Daughter to Lews the xij king of that name,
Whom of the Britten Dutches he did get:
Whose vertue great shall merit lasting fame,
While fier shall be warm or water wet,
While wind shall blow, and earth stand firm & sound,
And heavnly sphears shall run their courses round.
58
I passe all those that passe all these some deale,
Whose soules aspiring to an higher praise,
Despising pomp and ease, and worldly weale,
In sacred rites shall spend their blessed dayes:
Whose hearts and holy love and godly zeale,
To heavnly joyes from earthly thoughts shall raise,
That to good works, to prayer and pure divinitie,
Shall consecrate their lives and their virginitie.
59
Thus doth Melyssa unto her discourse,
Of those should come hereafter of her seed,
And while they talked oft by entercourse,
They in their journey onward do proceed,
And oftentimes Melyssa hath recourse,
To will her of Atlanta take great heed,
And least she should with faint and foolish kindnes
Be led unwares in errour and in blindnes.
60
Now when they neare approched to the place,
Then Bradamant departed from her guide,
And after she had rode a little space,
She saw one brought with hands together tid,
Exceeding like Rogero in the face,
In voice, in stature, haire and all beside:
Bound fast with chaines betweene two gyants led,
That threatned him ere long he should be dead.
61
But when the damsell saw within her view,
The lamentable state and hard condition,
Of him whose face she certaine thought she knew,
She changeth straight her trust into suspicion,
Doubting Melyssa of some malice new,
Or hidden hate had givn her such commission,
To make Rogero for a greater spite,
Be slaine by her in whom he doth delight.
62
Is not this he (thus to her self she spake)
Whom still mine heart and now mine eyes do see?
If my Rogero I can so mistake,
I never shall have knowledge which is he:
I either dream and am not now awake,
Or els no doubt it can none other be,
Melyssa? what, may not Melyssa lye?
Shall I believe her tale, and not mine eye?
63
Now while that thus she thought and thus she said,
And in this unwise thought did thus persever,
She thought she heard him speak and ask for aid,
Saying (my love) assist me now or never,
What shall I in thy sight be so betraid?
Dost thou forsake me? then farewell for ever:
These unkind words her heart so greatly daunted,
She followes him into the house inchanted.
64
No sooner was she enterd in the gate,
But that the common error her possest,
Wandring about the house betimes and late,
Nor night nor day she taketh any rest;
The strange inchantment brought her in that state,
That though she saw the man that lovd her best,
And spake with him, and met him every houre,
To know the tone the tother had no power.
65
But let not now the reader be displeasd,
Although I leave her in this charmed place,
I mean ere long her travell shall be easd,
And she shall see and know Rogeros face,
Evn as the tast with diverse meats is pleasd,
So think I by this story in like case;
The friendly reader shall be lesse annoyd,
If with one matter long he be not cloyd.
66
With sundry threds a man had need to weave,
To make so large a web as I intend,
Wherefore all other matters I must leave,
Of Agramant a little time to spend:
Who sorely at the flower de luce did heave,
And all his might to mar the same did bend,
Sending for men to Affricke and to Spaine,
Those to supply that in the field were slaine.
67
Thus all on war his heart was wholly fixt,
His new supplies with sundry captains led
Were come, with men of sundry nations mixt,
With whom that no disorder may be bred,
A day for viewes and musters was prefixt,
That evry one might know his guide and head:
Then fell they to their mustring and their viewing,
As shall be shewd you in the book ensuing.
ARGUMENT
THE FOURTEENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Agramant mustring of his men, doth misse
Two bands that by Orlando late were slaine:
Mandricard vowes to be revengd of this,
But by the way he haps to entertaine
Dame Doralice, whose beauty was his blisse.
An Angell brings Renaldo and his traine
Unseene, there where the Pagan did encampe,
And sendeth discord to the Turkish campe.
FOURTEENTH BOOKE
1
Among the fierce assaults, and cruell blowes,
That France hath felt from Affrick and from Spaine,
In which so many men fed Wolves and Crowes,
That were on both sides in the battell slaine:
Although the French were foiled by their foes,
That long they came not to the field againe,
Yet was this foile sore to the Pagans cost,
For diverse Lords and Princes that they lost.
2
So bloudy was the victory they gate,
That scant this joy did countervaile that wo,
And if we may compare things done of late,
(Renownd Alfons) to things done long ago,
Ravennas fall by fortune or by fate,
In which your vertue great did flourish so,
To win the field so bloudy and so hard,
With this of theirs may justly be compard.
3
For when the souldiers of the Spanish band
Whom then the Pope retained in his pay,
Had almost got the victory in hand,
The Frenchmen ready now to run away,
Thou camst to succour with that noble band
Of valiant youths, that merited that day
The honour of the gilded spurre and hilt,
In recompence of bloud so bravely spilt.
4
So didst thou bruise the Akornes rich of gold,
So didst thou break the yellow staffe and red,
So didst thou then the Flower de luce uphold,
When as the captaine was in battell dead,
For which the Lawrell crown they ware of old,
By just desert belongeth to thy head;
And Civill crown, no lesse in honour precious,
For saving unto Rome her own Fabricius.
5
Colonna namd a collum true indeed,
Unto the state of Rome and Romane name,
Whom you by value took, and savd by meed,
By which more honour true and worthy fame,
Unto your self you did procure and breed:
Then in the overcomming all that came,
From Aragon, from Castill and Navar,
For all their speares and new devised car.
6
Now though we all our lives and safeties ow,
To you that this great conquest did atchieve,
Yet our side did receive so great a blow,
As scarce that joy this sorrow did relieve:
And that the dames of France most plainly show,
Whom this so bloudy triumph still doth grieve,
Witnesse their widowes in their mourning gownes,
And watry eyes in villages and townes.
7
King Lews of France had need in time prepare,
For captains new to these unruly bands,
That wickedly without all feare or care,
Of lawes of God, of nature, or of lands,
No sort, nor sex, nor age, nor order spare,
From force of their unchast and bloudy hands.
Christs body in the Sacrament they tare it,
To beare away the silver plate that bare it.
8
Wretched Ravenna better had it been,
That thou the French shouldst not at all resist,
Thou mightst by Brescy have been warnd I ween,
Now thou a warning art for such as list
To shun like losse, by thy mishaps foreseen,
Not stubbornly in folly to persist;
So Riminy and Faens were preservd,
By marking in what sort thou hadst been servd.
9
As now king Lews (I say) had need to send
New captains to supply their rooms were dead,
So then the Pagan Princes did intend
To see their men from sundry countries led,
And all disorders and defects to mend,
To point them captains that do lack a head;
First then Marsilio all his souldiers viewth,
And Agramant next after him insewth.
10
The chief of those are of Marsilios traine,
Are first the Catalins, men of great land,
And of the best and noblest blood of Spaine:
The next that do to them in order stand,
Are of Navar, whose King was lately slaine
At Burdels by Renaldos valiant hand,
Marsilio sore laments the sorie case,
And pointeth Isolir supply his place.
11
Bulligant governeth those of Lion,
Grandonius for thAlgarbys doth provide,
Marsilios brother called Falsiron,
Doth those of lesser Castile rule and guide:
Those of Mallaga do attend upon
Madrasso, so doth Civill all beside,
There where as Betis water so abounds,
As all about it makes them fruitfull grounds.
12
Tessyra, Baricond and Stordilan,
Unto the field do bring their forces in,
Granado this, Majorick he hath tane,
The first to rule in Lisbon doth begin,
Where Larbin late was brought unto his bane,
Tessyra unto Larbyn next of kin,
Those of Gallicia Serpentine doth guide,
Since valiant Maricold in battell did.
13
Those of Toledo and of Galatrave,
Whom Synagon did lead not long ago,
Now Matalist their government must have,
Because that he was slaine by Christen so:
Then Pisardin a man in battell brave,
With all the band of Salamance doth go.
With many other souldiers of Pagenza,
Of Avila, Zamorra and Palenza.
14
Those of the court and of Marsilios traine,
With those of Saragose, Ferraw doth guide,
The chiefest flour, and the chief host of Spaine,
Well armd, well horsd, well furnished beside,
With whom two kings that late had lost their raigne,
Morgant and Malsatise did there abide,
And in the state of private men remaind,
And were by him most friendly entertaind.
15
The name of many a Duke, and Lord, and Knight,
For brevity I purpose to omit,
Such as were stout and hardy men in fight,
Such as were wise and politike in wit,
With thEarle of Sagunt Archidant that hight,
Langiran, Ammirant, and Malagit:
There was great Fulliron, Marsilios bastard,
That in that fight did shew himself no dastard.
16
After the Spanish hoast was viewd and past,
Before king Agramant, the next that came,
Was one that all the rest in stature past,
The governour and king of great Orane,
Then came a band whose leader small time past,
At Burdels field was brought unto his bane,
Lamenting that the king of Garamant
Was conquerd by the Lady Bradamant.
17
Then came the third, and that a headless crew,
Whose captaine Argust was in battell slaine,
To this the second and the fourth, anew
King Agramant doth leaders fresh ordaine.
But few there were that for these roomes did sew,
So few sufficient men there did remaine:
Buraldo and Argonio for the best,
And Ormida he chose among the rest.
18
Then came Brunello with a chearlesse face,
And look for shame still fixed on the ground,
For late he fell in Agramants disgrace,
Who doubted that his faith had not been sound,
Ere since he went unto thinchanted place,
Where to a tree dame Bradamant him bound,
Because he lost his ring, whose losse so grievd him,
That though he told him true, he not believd him.
19
But Isolir the brother of Ferraw,
That was the first that found him and untid him,
Avouchd to Agramant the thing he saw,
How that by force some enemy had tid him,
So as the King his anger did withdraw,
Although he never after well could bide him,
But swore the next offence that he committed,
An halter should unto his neck be fitted.
20
With those of Esperie came Soridano,
And Doribon did come with those of Set,
With those of Nasomanie Prusiano,
King Agricalt Amonios charge did get,
Malabusers came with them of Fisano,
The rest doth Finadure in order set,
Ballastro those that followd erst Tardocco,
Those of Canaria and of Morocco.
21
From Mulga and Arsilla others came,
The first their former captaine still doth hold,
Unto the next the King a new doth name,
One Corineus a trusty man and bold,
Then Balivesse a man of evill fame,
Clarindo next of whom great deeds are told,
Sobrino next a man of elder age,
In all the camp was none more wise and sage.
22
Those of Getulia came with Rimedont,
With Maribaldo those of Bolga went,
And those of Cosca came with Balnifront,
Their former Lord his life in battell spent:
Then came the king of Algier Rodomont,
That lately into Turkie had been sent,
To bring some new supplies of horse and men,
And back againe was new returnd as then.
23
In all the camp was not a man more stout,
In all the camp was not a man more strong,
Nor one of whom the French stood more in doubt,
Was there the Turkish army all among,
In Agramants nor in Marsilios rout,
Nor all the followers did to them belong.
Beside he was (which made them dread him chief)
The greatest enemy to our belief.
24
Then Puliano came, a gallant king,
And Agramantes cousen Dardanell,
Whether some Owle did at their window sing,
Or other lucklesse bird, I cannot tell,
As oft we see it is an usuall thing,
That some presage ones mischief shall foretell;
But sure it was prefixt in heavn on high,
What time and hour next day they both should die.
25
Now all their bands were musterd saving two,
Those of Noritia and of Tremisen,
King Agramant doth marvell what they do,
He knowes not where to heare of them nor when:
Now as he was dispatching hereunto
Some messenger, behold one of the men
That servd the king of Tremisen, in hast
Came and discoverd all that had been past.
26
Sir king (quoth he) by fortune and ill chance,
The noble kings Alsird and Manilard,
Happend to meet a cruell knight of France,
While with their bands they traveld hitherward,
He overthrew them both, (oh hard mischance)
And kild and spoild, and drave away their guard,
And sure (quoth he) I think his force is such,
To all your camp he would have done as much.
27
Among the rest that to this tale gave eare,
There was a Prince that late from Affricke came,
To whom king Agramant great love did beare,
And Mandricardo was the Princes name,
His heart was stout, and far from any feare,
His body strong and able to the same:
And that which greatest glory did him yeeld,
He had in Sorie conquerd Hectors field.
28
Now that the messenger his tale had done,
Which made the hearers hearts for sorrow cold,
This valiant Prince king Agricanes son,
Straight was resolvd with heart and courage bold,
That to win praise no paine did ever shun:
Although his purpose secret he did hold,
To be revenged on this bloudy knight,
That had so many slaine and put to flight.
29
He askd the messenger what clothes he ware,
And in what colourd garments he was clad?
Black (quoth the messenger) his raiments are,
No plume nor bravery his helmet had:
And true it was, Orlandos inward care
That made his heart so sorrowfull and sad,
Causd that his armour and his open shoes
Had like resemblance of his inward woes.
30
Marsilio had before a day or twaine,
Givn unto Mandricard a gallant steed;
His colour bay, but black his taile and maine,
Of Frizland was the dam that did him breed,
The Sier was a villan brave of Spaine:
On this brave beast this brave man mounts with speed.
Swearing he will not to the camp turn back,
Till he had found the champion all in black.
31
He meets the silly people in the way,
Halting, or maimd, or weeping for their friends,
Their wofull looks their fearfull hearts bewray,
(Weeping in such a losse but small amends)
But when he came where the dead bodies lay,
In viewing of their wounds some time he spends,
As witnesses of his strong hand that gave them,
Him he envies, and pities them that have them.
32
Evn as a Wolfe by pinching famine led,
That in the field a carren beast doth find,
On which before the dogs and ravns have fed,
And nothing left but hornes and bones behind,
Stands still, and gazeth on the carkasse dead:
So at this sight the Pagan Prince repind,
And curseth oft, and cals himself a beast,
For comming tardy to so rich a feast.
33
But when the mourning knight not here he found,
From thence he traveld many a weary mile,
Untill he found a meadow compast round,
With running streames that almost made an Ile,
Save one small entrance left of solid ground,
Which guarded was with armed men that while,
Of whom the Pagan asketh why they stand
To guard the place with weapons in their hand.
34
Their captaine viewing well his brave attire,
Doth think he was a man of great regard,
And said king Stordilano did then hire,
Into these parts his daughter deare to guard,
Espousd to king of Sarza by her Sire,
Who shortly for the mariage prepard:
And here (quoth he) we do this passage keep,
That none may trouble her while she doth sleep.
35
To morrow to the camp we mind to go,
Where she unto her father shall be brought,
Who means on Rodomont her to bestow,
By whom this noble match is greatly sought.
Now when the captaine had him answerd so,
This Prince that setteth all the world at nought,
Why then (quoth he) this maid belike is faire,
I pray thee cause her hither to repaire.
36
My hast is great, but were it greater far,
Yet would I stay to see a prettie maid:
Alas you misse your mark your aime doth arr,
(Gentle sir foole) to him the captaine said:
Thus first they gan with bitter words to jar,
And then from blowes but little time they staid,
For straight the Prince did set his speare in rest,
And smote therewith the captaine through the brest.
37
And straightwayes he recovered his speare,
And at the next that came therewith doth run,
For why none other weapon he did weare,
Since he the Trojan Hectors armor won,
At what time he most solemnly did sweare,
To win the sword worn by Trajanos son,
Cald Durindan, a blade of temper rare,
That Hector erst, and now Orlando bare.
38
Great was the force of this Tartarian knight,
That with his speare and weapon none beside,
Durst with so many joynd together fight:
Yet sets he spurs to horse, and stoutly crid,
Where is a man that dare withstand my might,
Who dares forbid me where I list to ride?
And with that speare himselfe he so bestird,
That small prevaild against him bill or sword.
39
But when his speare in peeces burst he saw,
The trunchen huge he takes in both his hands,
His blowes were such, not bloud but life to draw,
All dead or fled, not one his force withstands:
As Ebrew Samson with the Asses jaw,
Did heap on heaps the proud Philisten bands,
So Mandricard smote oft with so great force,
As one stroke kild both horsman and his horse.
40
Now though they took this thing in high disdaine,
To be thus conquerd with a broken stick,
Yet when they learned had unto their paine,
It was in vaine against the wall to kick,
Though unrevenged lie their fellowes slaine,
They leave the dead, rather then loose the quick:
But he so eager was to kill and slay,
That scant he sufferd one to scape away.
41
And as the reeds in marishes and lakes,
Drid with the Sun, or stubble in the field,
When as by hap the fire among it takes,
May not it selfe against that fury shield:
Evn so this crew but small resistance makes,
And evn of force is drivn at last to yeeld,
And leave her undefended to their shame,
For whose defence they from Granata came.
42
Now when the passage open did appeare,
He hastens in the Lady faire to see,
Whom he doth finde in sad and mourning cheare,
And leaning of her head against a tree,
All down her cheeks ran streames of cristall cleare,
She makes such mone, as greater could not be,
And in her countenance was plainly shown
Great grief for others harms, feare of her own.
43
Her feare increast when as he nearer drew,
With visage stern and all with bloud distaind,
The cries were great of her and of her crew,
That to their gods of their ill haps complaind:
For why, beside the guard whom late he slew,
She had (that privately with her remaind)
Laundrers and nurses, playfellowes and teachers,
With learnd Physitions, and heathnish Preachers.
44
Now when the Pagan Prince saw that faire face
Whose fairer was not to be found in Spaine,
He thinks if weeping give her such a grace,
What will she prove when she shall smile againe?
He deemeth Paradise not like this place,
And of his victory he seeks this gaine,
To have his prisner suffer him to wo her,
And yeeld himself a prisner unto her.
45
Howbet he maketh her against her minde,
Upon her ambling nag with him to ride,
Her masters, maids, and servants left behinde,
And promisd them he will for her provide,
He will be servitor, and nurse, and hinde,
And playfellow, and governour, and guide,
Adieu my friends (quoth he) I you enlarge,
For of your Mistris I will take the charge.
46
The wofull folk all mourning part away,
With scalding sighs, cold hearts, and watry eyes,
And one unto another thus they say,
How deep revenge will her stout spouse devise,
How will he rage to leese so faire a pray?
Oh that he had been at this enterprise,
No doubt but he would quickly wreak this slaughter,
And bring againe king Stordilanos daughter.
47
Of this faire prey the Prince was well apaid,
Which fortune gate him joyned to his might,
And now it seemd his hast was well alaid,
That late he made to meet the mourning knight,
Before he rode in post, but now he staid,
Bethinking where to rest himself that night,
To finde a place was now his whole desire,
Where he might quench his lately kindled fire.
48
And first to comfort and asswage the paine,
Of Lady Doralice (so was her name)
He frames a tale, and most thereof doth faine,
And sweares that he allured by her fame,
Had purposely forsook his home and raigne,
And for her love into these quarters came,
Not that he ought to France and Spaine that duty,
But only to the beams of her rare beauty.
49
If love deserveth love (quoth he) then I
Deserve your liking, that have lovd you long;
If stock you do esteem, my stock is high,
Sith I am sonne to Agrican the strong:
If state may stand in stead, who can denie,
To God alone our homage doth belong?
If value in your choise be of behoof,
I think this day thereof I have showd proof.
50
These words and such as love had then him taught,
Who lent him eloquence to serve his turne,
So sweetly in her tender fancie wrought,
That in a little while she ceast to mourne,
And first her feare asswagd, and then her thought,
A pleasing looke doth to her eye returne,
By which the Prince (in love no novice) guest,
That she ere long would grant him his request.
51
Now doth the night approch, and Phoebus face
In Ocean sea begins it selfe to hide,
The which did cause them somwhat mend their pace
And on their way with greater speed to ride:
And now they traveld had but little space,
When first a smoke and then a light they spide,
Then came they where they heard the bandogs bark
When as the aire was now obscure and dark.
52
A few poore cotages where heardmen dwell,
They find, and there together they alight,
The houses poore, but such as very well
Might serve them to repose them for a night,
Their fare was meane, fit hunger to expell,
To which the heardmen friendly them invite,
As curtesie oft times in simple bowres
Is found as great as in the stately towres.
53
But after supper what did passe betweene
Dame Doralyce and Agricanes haire,
May not be told, because it was not seene,
But they may guesse, that have with Ladies faire
By night alone in place convenient beene,
Where to disturbe them no man did repaire,
I doubt he did not so his passion bridle,
To let so faire a dame lie by him idle.
54
But sure I am when day light did appeare,
They both arose well pleasd and well content,
And thankt the heardmen for their friendly cheare,
And so from thence they both together went,
Untill they came unto a river cleare,
Before the forenoone of the day was spent,
And riding downe along the river side,
Two horsemen with a damsell they espide.
55
But let them go, for why my high conceat
Forbiddeth me long in one path to tread,
And cals me back of Agramant to treat,
Who being newly troubled in his head,
To heare there were from England succors great,
Under the conduct of Renaldo led,
To counsell cald the Princes sage and wise,
Some remedie for mischiefs to devise.
56
They all conclude the next ensuing day,
With scaling ladders on the wals to mount,
Lest dangers new be bred by long delay,
And succors fresh hinder their first account:
Thus Agramant, thus doth Marsilio say,
Sobrina sage, and cruell Rodomont,
Who to destroy Paris alone doth threate,
And to pull downe the sacred Romane seate.
57
And to this end they straight provide in hast,
Innumerable ladders apt to scale,
With timber towres upon great wheeles so plast,
As that they may approch the citie wall,
From whence they may broade bridges safely cast,
And passe without all jeopardie to fall,
And throw their balls compact of firy matter,
Then have they rams, the walls to bruse and batter.
58
But Charles, the day that went before that day,
The Painims meant to do their worst and best,
Did cause the Priests and Friers masse to say,
Did cause the people all to be confest,
And humbly prostrate unto God to pray,
To save and pittie them that were opprest,
And then they all receivd in Christen union,
The blessed Sacrament, that high communion.
59
Himselfe with Lords and Barons of great fame,
(An humble feare of God in him so wrought)
In person publikly performes the same,
And by example others duties tought,
And calling on our Saviours blessed name,
O Lord (said he) though I my selfe be nought,
Let not my sinne, my wickednesse and ill,
Move thee thy faithfull peoples blood to spill.
60
And if it be thy sacred will (O God)
To punish us for our so great transgression,
And make us feele thy hand and heavy rod,
At least defer this plague and just oppression,
That by thy foes we be not overtrod,
We that of thy true faith do make profession,
Lest they blaspheme thy name (we overthrowne)
And say thou couldest not defend thine owne.
61
So shall our fall make them thy law despise,
So shall their wicked number still increase,
So shall the power of Babylon arise,
So shall thy Sacraments and Gospell cease,
Looke on this people Lord with gracious eyes,
Turne foiles and warres to victories and peace,
That when these dogs and runnegates be daunted,
Thy tombe and temple may be daily haunted.
62
Alas our merits are of none effect,
To pay a portion of our grievous debt,
Except thy grace our weaknesse so protect,
That our misdeeds out of thy sight be set,
Lord heale our soules with grievous vice infect,
Forgive our faults, our errors all forget,
And though our sinnes the sands in number passe,
Yet let thy mercies greatnesse them surpasse.
63
Thus praid the Prince most sorrowfull and sad,
With humblenesse of heart and great contrition,
And to this prayre he then a vow doth ad,
Well suting to his state and high condition.
Nor small effect these vowes and prayers had,
For presently without all intermission,
His Angell good up to our Saviour mounted,
And there his vowes and prayers all recounted.
64
And thousand prayrs alike at that same time,
By messengers alike to God were brought,
When lo the goodnesse, and the powre divine,
That never shall, nor never vaine was sought,
His gracious eare doth to their prayre incline,
Those whom he made, & who he deare had bought:
Then to the Angell Michael straight he beckned,
Who not a little of his calling reckned.
65
And thus he said, go thither straight in post,
Where now in Picardie the Christens land,
And so to Paris guide that English host,
Let not their foes their comming understand,
In this attempt shall Silence helpe you most,
Will him this enterprise to take in hand,
This done, then see you find dame Discord out,
And will her hast unto the Pagan rout.
66
And charge her there according to her skill,
Among the best to sow such foule dissention,
That they may one the other wound and kill,
And fill their camp with brauls and with contention:
Let some men like their entertainment ill,
And grudge because they have no bigger pension,
And let them all so vary out of measure,
That they may do their Prince but little pleasure.
67
The blessed Angell not a word replies,
But doth his makers holy will obay,
Forthwith evn in a moment downe he flies,
And where he goes the clouds do fleet away:
But by the way he thinks and doth devise,
Of evry place where Silence find he may,
Though he an Angell were he could not tell,
Where this same enemy of speech doth dwell.
68
At last he fully doth himselfe perswade,
To find him in some houses of devotion,
That first for life monasticall were made,
Where godly men, despisers of promotion,
Dwell farre from all this worldly wicked trade,
With minds abhorring flesh and fleshly motion,
Where idle words should counted be a shame,
And where on evry wall they write his name.
69
Wherefore into an Abbey he doth go,
And makes no question Silence there to find,
And Peace and Charitie, and Love also,
And lowly thoughts, and well contented mind:
But soone he was aware it was not so,
All contrary their humors were inclind,
For Silence in that Abbey doth not host,
His name was onely writ upon a post.
70
Nor Quietnesse, nor Humblenesse, nor Peace,
Nor Charitie, nor godly love was here,
They were somtimes, but now those times do cease,
Now Covetise, and Ease, and Belly cheare,
Pride, Envie, Sloth, and Anger, so increase,
That Silence banisht is and comes not neare.
With wonder great the Angell them doth vew,
And findeth Discord in this cursed crew.
71
Her whom the heavnly King did will him find,
Next after Silence, her he findeth furst,
To seeke her out in hell he had assignd,
Among the spirits damned and accurst,
It sore did grieve his pure unspotted mind,
Where he expected best, to find them worst,
It seemd to him a thing uncouth and strange,
In sacred place to find so great a change.
72
He knew her by her weed of sundry hew,
All parcht with infinite unequall lists,
Her skin in sundry places naked vew
At divers rents and cuts, he may that lists:
Her haire was gray, and red, and blacke and blew,
And hard, and soft, in laces some she twists,
Some hangeth downe, upright some standeth staring,
As if each haire with other had bene squaring.
73
Her lap was full of writs and of citations,
Of processes, of actions and arrests,
Of bils, of answers, and of replications,
In courts of Delegates and of Requests,
To grieve the simple sort with great vexations:
She had resorting to her as her guests,
Attending on her circuits and her journeys,
Scrivners and Clarks, and Lawyers and Atturneys.
74
The Angell calleth her, and bids her go,
Unto the Turks as fast as she can hie,
Among their Kings such seeds of strife to sow,
As one of them may cause the tother die.
Then he demaundeth her if she do know,
Within what place Silence doth use to lie,
He thought that she that traveld much about,
In stirring strife might hap to find him out.
75
I cannot call to mind (quoth she) as yet,
That I have talkt with Silence any time,
I heare them talke of him, and praise his wit,
And secretnesse to cover any crime;
But my companion Fraud can serve you fit,
For she hath kept him companie sometime,
And which was Fraud she pointeth with her finger,
Then hence she hies and doth no longer linger.
76
Fraud shewd in comely clothes a lovely looke,
An humble cast of eye, a sober pace,
And so sweet speech, a man might her have tooke,
For him that said, haile Marie full of grace,
But all the rest deformedly did looke,
Full of all filthinesse, and foule disgrace,
Hid under those large garments that she ware,
Close under which a poisond knife she bare.
77
The Angell asketh her if she do know
The place where Silence makes his habitation.
Forsooth (quoth Fraud) he dwelled long ago
With the wise sages of the Greekish nation.
Archytas and Pythagoras (I trow)
That chiefe to vertue had their inclination,
And afterward he spent these latter yeers
With Carmelit and with Saint Bennet friers.
78
But since these old Philosophers did faile,
And these new saints their saintlike life did change,
He sought new places for his most availe,
And secret and uncertaine he doth range:
Sometime with theeves that true men do assaile,
Sometime with lovers that delight in change,
Sometime with traitors he doth bide, and furder,
I saw him late with one that did a murder.
79
With clippers and with coyners he doth stay,
Sometime in secret dens and caves obscure,
And oft he changeth places day by day,
For long he cannot in a place endure.
But I can tell you one most ready way,
Where you to find him out shall be most sure,
Go where as Sleepe doth dwell, and out of doubt,
At midnight you shall find him thereabout.
80
Though Fraud by custome use to lie and faine,
Yet was this tale so evidently trew,
The Angell now no longer doth remaine,
But with his golden wings away he flew
To Arabie, where in a country plaine,
Far from all villages and cities vew,
There lieth a vale with woods so overgrowne,
As scarce at noone the day light there is showne.
81
Amid this darke thicke wood, there is a cave,
Whose entrance is with Ivie overspread,
They have no light within, nor none they crave,
Here Sleepe doth couch his ever drowsie head,
And Sloth lies by, that seems the gout to have,
And Idlenesse, not so well taught as fed,
They point Forgetfulnesse the gate to keepe,
That none come in nor out to hinder Sleepe.
82
She knowes no names of men, nor none will learne,
Their messages she list not understand,
She knowes no businesse doth her concerne,
Silence is sentinell unto this band,
And unto those he comming doth discerne,
To come no neare he beckens with his hand,
He treadeth soft, his shoes are made of felt,
His garment short, and girded with a belt.
83
To him the Angell goth, and in his eare
He tels him thus, Jehovah bids you guide
Renaldo, with the succors he doth beare,
To Paris walls, so as they be not spide,
Nor let the Pagans once suspect or feare
Their comming, nor for it at all provide,
And let them heare no incling of these foes.
Untill they find their force and feele their bloes.
84
No answer Silence made, but with his head
He made a signe, as who should say he would,
And with the Angell straight himselfe he sped,
In greater hast then can be thought or told,
To Picardie, from whence the Angell led,
That present day the bands of souldiers bold,
To Paris walls, an hundred miles asunder,
Yet no man was aware it was a wonder.
85
And Silence still surveyeth all the rout,
Before, beside, behind, with great regard,
And with a cloud doth compasse them about,
No man of them was seene, no noise was heard,
Then walketh he among the Pagans scout,
And unto them that kept their watch and ward,
And brought them somewhat (what I do not find)
That made them for the time both deafe and blind.
86
Now while Renaldo came with so great hast,
As well it seemd an Angell did him guide,
And as he went, with so great silence past,
As by his foes his comming was not spide:
King Agramant had now his footmen plast
By Paris walls, fast by the ditches side,
He meanes the citie to assaile that day,
On evry side by all the meanes he may.
87
He that would take upon him to declare,
Of Agramantas host the certaine number,
That to destroy this Citie did prepare,
Shall seeme himselfe as frutelesly to cumber,
As if he told what flowres in Hyble are,
What fish in sea, what water drops in Humber,
What starres in skie at midnight when it covers
The unchast acts of close and secret lovers.
88
The larum bell in evry place doth ring,
About the towne with strange disorderd sound,
In Churches Mattens they do say and sing,
Some kneeling down, some groveling in the ground,
If gold were unto God so gratefull thing,
As fond men think, no doubt there would be found,
Enough in this extremity, that would
Make all the saints new images of gold.
89
There might you see godly old men and just,
Lamenting that their lives so long did last,
And call them happie that were laid in dust,
And buried many yeares and ages past;
But gallant youths, devoid of all mistrust,
Not with these perils any whit agast,
Whom enemies nor engines none appals,
Go to defend right manfully the walls.
90
Bold Barons, Earles and Dukes of great degree,
With souldiers, forreiners, and of the towne,
Did come to Charles, and praid him to agree,
To let them out, and let the drawbridge downe:
Glad was King Charles their forward minds to see,
To fight for Christs religion and his crowne,
But yet as then he doth not thinke it best,
In this one point to grant them their request.
91
He rather thinks it better them to place,
The forces of the fierce assault to breake,
With distant bands a great or little space,
According as the wall was strong or weake:
Himselfe with chearfull vigor in his face,
Unto them all most curteously doth speake,
These he doth comfort, them he doth encourage,
And fill the stout with hope, the faint with courage.
92
Faire Paris lieth in a pleasant plaine,
Evn in the navell, rather in the hart
Of France, the river cuts the same in twaine,
And makes an Iland of the better part,
The rest that doth in greatnesse more containe,
A ditch and wall doth from the plaine depart,
King Agramant assaults the Westerne side,
As having Westward gotten all beside.
93
Marsilio with the warlike bands of Spaine,
He points to keepe the field in armed ranks,
Sobrino sage and those with him remaine,
Are placed upon Sequans fruitfull banks.
Himselfe with an innumerable traine,
With ladders, bridges, fagots, barres and planks,
Doth thinke to fill the ditch and make it levell,
And at the walles do keepe unruly revell.
94
What should I speake of Rodomont most fell,
Blaspheming God, not onely scorning men,
That knew to use a glittering blade so well,
As I so well know not to use my pen:
His deeds alone would aske a day to tell,
That in few houres he did performe as then:
As for the rest they came like swarmes of flies,
And fild the aire with shouts and hideous cries.
95
And they no lesse provided are within,
With rampers, bulwarks, and with double dikes,
And where their foes to climbe do once begin,
They push them down with bils, with staves & pikes;
If one be kild, another steppeth in,
Ho man his place for feare of hurt mislikes,
Some throw down bricks, some stones, some scalding water,
And grieve them much with all, most with the later.
96
Some throw among them newly flaked lime,
That burneth most when most it seems to quench,
With pots of brimstone, pitch and turpentine,
Annoying them with heate, and smoke, and stench,
The rest are still employd, and leese no time,
With wreathed stakes to fortifie, the trench:
Thus all within were busie, all without,
On both sides fortune standing still in doubt.
97
The while the king of Sarza brought about
His owne and men of divers other lands,
Himselfe to shew his might and courage stout,
That made him counted valiant of his hands,
From Cupids campe was not excluded out,
But rather soly subject to such bands,
A Lion geuls he gives in loftie banner,
A Ladie bridling him in lowly manner.
98
So by the beast he meant his owne fierce mind,
And by the dame his mistris faire was ment,
The bridle was to shew how love could bind
His loftie heart, and bow it to her bent.
He little knew, that shewd himselfe so kind,
How of his purchase others tooke the rent:
He knew not Mandricard did pleade possession,
Of her to whom he makes this kind profession.
99
Straight to the wals are thousand ladders plast,
With double ranks that two may climbe at once,
And up the souldiers get on them in hast,
One shoulders up another for the nonce:
He that goes slow, and he that climbes too fast,
Are each in perill of a broken sconce.
Their enemies assailing still the hier,
Their captains those that linger or retier.
100
Thus evry one do clammer up the wall,
For value some, and other some for feare,
And some are slaine, and some are made to fall,
Repenting late that ever they came there:
Fierce Rodomont alone (contemning all)
No paine, no place for perill doth forbeare,
But rusheth on, more despratly then stoutly,
Blaspheming God while others pray devoutly.
101
A paire of curats passing hard he ware,
Made of an ugly Dragons scaly skin,
This armour his great auncestor first bare,
He that to build Babel did first begin:
(A towre whose height shold with the clouds copare)
And thought from God the rule of heavn to win:
And to the same effect likewise he made,
Of passing proofe an helmet, shield and blade.
102
Thus Rodomont that came of Nimrods kind,
As proud and irreligious as was he,
Regardeth not a passage safe to find,
Or where the wall might weakest guarded be,
But with a heart to mischiefe all inclind,
Where he the same defended best doth see,
(Protected with his shield) he makes no bones,
To go through fire and water, darts and stones.
103
When once upon the battlement he was,
Where all the wall was broade and largely paved,
How did he slay the Christens then alas,
How fierce he unto them himselfe behaved?
His blade doth pierce their plates of steele and bras,
All were not priests whose crownes that day were shaved,
He kild alone so many as their blood
Did cause the ditch to fill with crimson flood.
104
Beside the baser sort, these men of name,
At this same first conflict by him were slaine,
Orgetto Duke, that late from Flanders came,
Arnold and Hugo, two of Charles his traine,
And Lews that governd Provence with great fame,
Walter and Denis, Hawnce of Satalline,
Some were thrust through, some had (past all releefe)
Their helmets and their heads clovn to the teeth.
105
And some by force from off the wall he cast,
Among the which was one Moschino hight,
That by his will would never water tast,
But still in wine did put his whole delight:
But lo his lucke was to be drownd at last,
Within this dirtie ditch for further spite,
And he that never water could abide
In all his life, now here in water dide.
106
Thus while that Rodomont did kill and slay,
All that he found upon the utmost wall,
His band of men the while had found the way,
To passe the ditch and so the wall to scale.
But now within another dike there lay,
The sight whereof their courage did appall,
For why the Christens sent such store of shot,
As this same place did seeme to them too hot.
107
The dike was drie, the bottome evn and plaine,
Both sides were steep, but steepest next the towne,
At this the souldiers curtesie do straine,
Which of them first shall venter to go downe,
Within the citizens had made a traine,
With labour great and cost of many a crowne,
That when the ditch with armed men was filled,
With heat and smother they should all be killed.
108
It cubits had in bredth thrise ten and more,
And in the bottome there were closely plast,
Barrels of pitch, brimstone, and oyle good store,
All matter quick to kindle, long to last.
The captaine led them all the way before,
And thousand souldiers followd them as fast,
But Rodomont as though he had had wings,
Quite ore the dike like to a grehound springs.
109
And being placed on the inner side,
Armd and unarmed men to him are like,
No steele there was his forces could abide,
Death followth evrie blow that he doth strike:
Which when a while to their great cost they tride,
They do of force abandon quite the dike,
He follows slaying without all remorse,
So sharpe his sword, so furious is his force.
110
But when the souldiers thought the banke to mount,
With scaling ladders, as they did the wall,
They found themselves deceivd of their account,
For straight the fier works were kindled all,
Whose sudden flames the clouds themselves surmount
Which sight the Pagans greatly did appall;
And so increase their terror and their wonder,
It made a noise like to continuall thunder.
111
The Christens do rejoyce at this reliefe,
To see their practise had succeeded well:
The Pagans plagud, with heat, and smother chiefe,
In great dispaire do rore alowd and yell:
Thus twixt the noise of fier and cries of griefe,
They make an harmony most meete for hell.
And here I meane to leave them in the fire,
For to repose my selfe I now desire.
ARGUMENT
THE FIFTEENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Faire Paris is assaild on evrie part,
By those of Affricke, and by those of Spaine:
From Logestill Astolfo doth depart,
And takes Calligorant in his owne traine,
Then slew Orillo, that by Magicke art
Revivd, when by the brothers he was slaine:
Stout Sansonet Astolfo kind doth use,
But Gryphin of his mistres beares ill newes.
FIFTEENTH BOOKE
1
To winne the field against our armed foes,
Is counted honourable any waies,
Although it be with policie or blowes,
Yet bloody conquests staine the Captaines praise,
But chiefest honour doth belong to those,
Whom Fortune to such height of hap doth raise,
To have their foe supprest and overthrowne,
With little losse and damage of their owne.
2
Such was the victorie that you then gaind,
O stout Hyppolito you conquerd so,
When the Venetian Navie had obtaind,
With armed vessels all the streame of Poe,
Your policie and vallue them constraind,
With losse inestimable thence to go:
Their marriners and souldiers all destroying,
Our marriners and souldiers not annoying.
3
The Pagan Rodomont did want this skill,
That forst ten thousand men the trench to enter,
By his commandment sore against their will,
Upon so perillous a place to venter,
Where straight the smother doth their bodies kill,
And send their sinfull soules beneath the center,
Himselfe in safetie sees them there a dying,
Still swearing, cursing, heavn it selfe defying.
4
Now Agramant an hot assault and fearce,
Gave where he thought the same was lest expected
He strives the wals to batter, break and pearce
With engines strong, and rams thereto erected:
Those Kings whose names I did before rehearse,
Brought men some stout, & some with fear infected,
And such as rather wish to stand aloofe,
Then weare a corslet of the surest proofe.
5
But Agramant herein was much deceaved,
For where he thought them weake and unprepard,
He found that manfully he was receaved,
And that the King himselfe the place did guard,
With thousands more readie to be bereaved
Of life and limbe, and such as nought regard,
Before that they would take so great disgrace,
As in their masters sight to leese their place.
6
But here I cease untill another time,
To tell of these assaults the hard successe,
Of damage like to both sides: now my rime
Unto the English Duke I must addresse,
Astolfo sonne of Oton whom sometime
Alcynas witchcraft held in great distresse,
Who like another Cyrce men transformed,
To trees, to beasts, and foules of shapes deformed.
7
You heard before how all her strange deceits,
Melyssa sage did with the ring discover,
And how she gave them also good receits,
As made them all their former shapes recover,
How after having scaped all their sleights,
They did no longer in such fancies hover,
But to be surely able to resist her,
They fled unto her vertuous elder sister.
8
Where when they had with comfort great remained,
Desirous to their countries to retire,
They asked leave of her, and leave obtained,
Of her that never hinders just desire:
But ere they went she frendly them constrained,
With precious gifts to be endowed by her,
Such gifts as were of precious price indeed,
And all their lives should stand them all in steed.
9
But chiefly to this English Duke she gave,
Of secret skill a little written booke,
Containing many a precept wise and grave,
The which of her most thankfully he tooke;
These teach a man from charmes himselfe to save,
That in the same advisedly doth looke,
And that to find them out he may be able,
The booke had in the end a perfit table.
10
Beside this booke on him she doth bestow,
Another gift of as great price and more,
A horne in which if he do once but blow,
The noise thereof shall trouble men so sore,
That all both stout and faint shall flie therefro,
So strange a noise was never heard before;
When to the Duke these rare gifts were imparted
He humblie tooke his leave and thence departed.
11
And least Alcyna should by force attempt,
To bring him backe or worke him some disease,
Andronica was with a navie sent,
To wafte him safe till he were past those seas,
And vertuous Sophrosina with him went,
To see him passe with safety and with ease,
So good a conduct and so sure a guide,
As was not found in all the world beside.
12
And thus she saild along that Indian shore,
And sees and leeseth sight of sundry Iles,
Those called fortunate and others more,
That distant are, some few, some many miles,
And (for he never heard of them before)
He askt his guide some questions other whiles,
As whether from those Indian seas perchance,
A ship may saile to England, Spaine, and France.
13
She answerd thus; to put you out of doubt,
First know the earth it selfe is like an Iland,
Invironed with waters round about,
That compasse in on evry side their drie land,
And though to this day no man hath found out,
Nor thinks there can be any way but by land,
Because they judge the lands length there is such,
That it the other Hemispher doth tuch.
14
Yet I foresee, ere many ages passe,
New marriners and masters new shall rise,
That shall find out that erst so hidden was,
And shall discover where the passage lies,
And all the men that went before surpasse,
To find new lands, new starres, new seas, new skies,
And passe about the earth as doth the Sunne,
To search what with Antipodes is done.
15
Behold I see the signe of holy crosse,
A signe within these quarters seene but seeld,
I see where ten a thousand put to losse,
And to thimperiall banner all do yeeld,
I see in spite of evry thwart and crosse,
The house of Aragon still wins the feeld,
I see that fortune is disposd to lift
Up unto heavn the name of Charles the fift.
16
It pleaseth God to keepe the waies unknowne,
Unto these parts as they have bene and are,
Untill seven hundred yeares be overblowne,
What time he meanes to raise an Empror rare,
That shall both find and make them all his owne,
And one that shall most worthily compare,
In warre for courage, and in peace for justice,
With Trajan, with Aurelius or Augustus.
17
I see the will of heavn doth so incline,
The house of Austria and of Arragon,
Shall linke together in a happie line,
And be by match united both in one:
I see a braunch grow by the banke of Ryne
Out of this house, as like there hath bene none,
Whose match (thus much to say I dare be bold)
May not be found in writers new or old.
18
By him againe Astrea shall be brought,
And be restored from her long exile,
And vertues that have long bene set at nought,
Shall raigne and banish fraud deceit and guile:
For which great works by him so nobly wrought,
God meanes to grant him all this earthly Ile,
And under this wise Prince his deare annointed,
One shepheard and one flocke he hath appointed.
19
Which that it may the better be effected,
He gives them Captaines both by sea and land,
That shall win places never yet detected
And none shall dare their forces to withstand;
Cortese first, by whom shall be erected,
The Emprors banner in the Indian sand,
Who by his valiant hand and wise direction,
Shall win and keepe those Indies in subjection.
20
Loe, with the noble Marques of Pescare,
Prosper Colonna prosperous in fight,
Loe him that may with both of them compare,
Or be preferred if you do him right,
I meane the Marques Vast, whose vallew rare,
In tender youthfull yeares shall shine most bright,
Like to a horse that running swiftest pace,
Doth last set out, and first doth win the race.
21
In him shall faith and courage be so mixt,
That when his years shall seeme but young & tender
As passing not the twenty yeare and sixt,
Yet shall his fame and forces not be slender;
On him shall eyes and hearts of men be fixt,
To him shall townes and forts, and castles render,
As to a Captaine with such worth endewed,
As he alone the world might have subdewed.
22
What should I speake of famous Andrew DOrie,
That to the pyrats so much terror breeds,
As Pompey so much praisd in Latin storie?
This Andrew either matches or exceeds:
What nobler name can be, what greater glorie,
Then to roote out such hurtfull cursed weeds?
So as men may with saftie and with ease,
From Italy to Nylus passe the seas.
23
By his assistance, furtherance and his aide,
In Italy Caesar a crowne obtaines,
For which good service though he be well paid,
Yet for himselfe thereby he nothing gaines:
The paine is his (o noble mind well staid)
The profit to his country sole remaines:
And whereas some to rule their country sought,
By him his countries freedome shall be wrought.
24
This love by him unto his country showne,
In honor true shall more his name advance,
Then both the Caesars victories well knowne,
In England, Spaine, in Italy and France:
For though their enemies were overthrowne,
By valour oft, and oftentimes by chance,
Yet this did blot their praise and make it lesse,
That both their countries freedome did oppresse.
25
Wherefore let them and others all beside,
That tyrannize their countries be ashamed,
And hanging downe their heads, their faces hide,
When they shall heare this noble Andrew named,
By whose rare temperate and happie guide,
His countries peace and freedome shall be framed:
And thus Andronica the Duke foretold,
What men in future ages come there shold.
26
The while with prosperous winds the vessels drived,
Came first within the view of Persian shore,
And then from thence their way they so contrived,
They past the gulfe (so called long before)
And there to land so happily arrived,
Misdoubting of Alcynas might no more,
He thanks these guides that all the way defend him,
And humbly to their Ladie recommend him.
27
More woods then one, more fields then one he past,
More then one valley, more then one high hill:
He meeteth theeves by night, by dayes as fast,
That lie in wait poore travellers to kill:
Of beasts, of serpents huge he was agast,
That with their terror those wild deserts fill,
But when he blew his horne they fled away,
No man nor beast durst in the hearing stay.
28
He travels through the happie Arabie,
So called for the store of spices sweet,
There where the bird that burnes and doth not die,
To dwell of all the world hath thought most meet:
Thence went he to the sea, that once was drie,
Which Jacobs sons went through upon their feet,
Proud Pharao following them unto his cost,
Himselfe and all his charets drownd and lost.
29
Fast by the banks of Trajans streame he rides;
There where as Nylus doth receive the same,
An horse of passing swiftnesse he bestrides,
That was ingendred twixt the wind and flame,
Not such a beast in all the world besides,
And Rabycano is this horses name:
Now as along the rivers banke he past,
He saw a boate make toward him in hast.
30
A simple hermit did the vessell steare,
Whose beard with age was overgrowne and gray,
And when he came so nie that he might heare,
These words to him he fatherly doth say,
My sonne if you do hold your safetie deare,
Except you meane to die this present day,
Proceed no farther in the way you ride,
But ferrie over to the other side.
31
For if you do that fatall way proceed,
You shall within a mile a giant meet,
Whose stature other men doth farre exceed,
For why his height is counted fourteene feet,
He makes a sport of evry cruell deed,
The flesh of man unto his tast is sweet,
He eateth some alive, and some he slayeth,
He quarters some, and other some he flayeth.
32
Amid this crueltie he hath great sport,
To use the service of a certaine net,
Which in the common way in secret sort,
With dust and gravell coverd he doth set,
And then when strangers do that way resort,
First if he may, behind them he doth get:
And then with hideous outcries he them scares,
Untill they fall into his net unwares.
33
But having caught them once in such a cage,
Of birth or merit he hath no respect,
Of wealth nor sex, of country nor of age,
No priviledge from him can them protect,
Their carkases his hunger must asswage,
Their sculs like monuments he doth erect,
In posts and windowes hanging them on pins,
His chambers all are hanged with their skins.
34
Take then (my sonne) take then this other way,
Where with more ease and safetie you may go.
Thanks (gentle Frier) the English Duke doth say,
Yet can I not your counsell follow tho,
Though danger bids go safest way one may,
Yet what saith honor? honor saith not so,
Let none retire with shame, thus honor seath,
The worst that can befall one is but death.
35
But contrary, if I may him intrap,
As he to do to other doth devise,
And take himselfe in his prepared trap,
The good is great that hereof may arise.
Well, quoth the hermit, God grant blessed hap,
And send his Angell Michael from the skies,
That may deliver him into thy hand,
Or give thee strength his forces to withstand.
36
On goes the Duke blest by the simple Frier,
Much trusting in his sword, more in his sound:
And being now approcht a little nier,
The cruell giants gracelesse house he found,
Environd all with marish ground and mier,
His chambers all within were furnisht round
With skins and skuls of many a wofull hed,
Of such as evill chance had thither led.
37
As hunters that by forrest wild do dwell,
Naile by on post the heads and pawes of Beares,
And of their dangers do delight to tell,
And call to mind their hardly scaped feares:
So looke who did in strength the rest excell,
The giant kept some speciall limbs of theirs,
The rest in ditches carelesly he throwes,
To rot and be devourd by dogs or crowes.
38
Calygorant (so is this giants name)
Stands looking at his gate with watchfull eie,
Rejoycing much when any stranger came,
And namely now the Duke he doth espie,
Not doubting but by him to do the same,
He had to others done, and make him die;
But first he seekes behind the Duke to get,
And thinks hereby to drive him to the net.
39
When as the Duke the Giant fierce espide,
He staid his horse and would not forward go,
For feare lest in the net he might be tide,
Of which the hermit had forwarnd him tho:
Then bloweth he his horne of vertue tride,
That in the hearers terror breeds and wo,
Which so possest his senses altogether,
As straight he fled, and saw not where nor whether.
40
It seemed with his heart he lost his eies,
And still he fled, and cares not how nor where,
Right to the place where that most strange net lies,
Which he to take the Duke had placed there,
The net his armes and all his members ties,
Which then Astolfo saw (now out of feare)
He lights and drawes his sword, intending then
To venge the death of thousand guiltlesse men.
41
But finding him so sure and strongly bound,
He thought it were a base ungentle part,
To slay a prisner whom in bands he found,
So as he could not stir, nor no way start:
God Vulcan wrought this net in caves profound,
Of flaming AEtna, with such skill and art,
That though the wires did seem but smal and weak,
Yet could no force the same consume nor breake.
42
I say this curious net then Vulcane wrought,
When certaine jealous thoughts his heart inflamed,
His spouse therwith in Mars his armes he caught,
And openly then made them both ashamed,
At which prospect though many gods then laught,
Yet many wisht in like sort to be shamed:
Slie Mercury did after steale this net,
His lovely Cloris therewithall to get.
43
Faire Cloris who flies out before the morne,
And sprinkleth aire with smell of fragrant flowres,
That in her lovely lap about are borne,
From whence do fall the pleasant Aprill showres:
But Mercury, sith she his love did scorne,
Lay with his net in waite not many houres,
Till at the last by Nylus banks he caught her,
And there to daunce la volta then he taught her.
44
The net in Anubs temple he did leave,
Where many yeares in safetie it did bide,
Untill Calygorant not asking leave,
And caring not what should thereof betide,
Of this great relique did the Church bereave,
With all the plate and ornaments beside:
And to this wicked use the net employed,
By which the passengers were sore annoyed.
45
Now of this net Astolfo tooke a wire,
And (like a theefe) behind him tide his hands,
Who now was meeke as any could desire,
And like a lambe by him most gently stands:
At least the waight thereof himselfe might tire,
First having bound his prisner sure in bands,
He makes him carry that upon his backe.
And usde him like a mule to beare a packe.
46
And thus he parteth thence triumphing so,
And led the giant prisner in a string,
And all about the country him doth show,
(A sight that to them all great joy did bring)
To Memphis Pyramids he then doth go,
Most famous for the tombe of many a King,
More hie in height then fiftie times Pauls steeple,
Then saw he Cayr so huge and full of peeple.
47
But not so peopled as they now report,
That thousands in the streets by night do lie
For want of roome, yet builded in such sort,
That evry house is made three stories hie,
Where runnegates do dwell, that make a sport,
Their faith and their salvation to denie:
Of which the Sowdan for his owne behoofe,
Keepes fifteene thousand lodging in one roofe.
48
Thence went Astolfo to the banks of Nyle,
To Damyat a citie thereabout,
And here he heard within a dozen myle
Orillo dwelt, a hardy theefe and stout,
That robd poore men, and kild them other while,
As travellers of him stood sore in doubt,
And (that which him with greater wonder filled)
The common voice was he could not be killed.
49
Full many a thrust, full many a cruell blow,
Of many men in fight he had endured,
And unto many men great care and wo,
And death it selfe he often had procured:
But his owne body was enchanted so,
As evry wound he had forthwith was cured,
I thinke some Fayry was his dame, or rather
I thinke some Incubus had bene his father.
50
The worthy Knight this wicked creature sought,
Untill at last he came unto the place,
Where then Orillo with two champions fought,
The combat having held no little space,
Yet at his hands they both had gained nought,
Though both of them gave sundry blowes apace,
Their names were these that held this mongrell tack,
Griffin the white and Aquilant the black.
51
The Necromancer fought with vantage great,
He rode upon a cruell hideous beast,
A Crocodile that flesh of men doth eat,
And birds and beasts, and doth them all digest,
Yet had the brethren throwne him from his seat,
And further had the Crocodile distrest:
But him to wound and kill in vaine they strived,
For still his wounds did heale, and he revived.
52
Sometime they cleft his head by force in twaine,
As butchers cleave a bullocks with an axe,
But straight he joyneth both the parts againe,
As if they had bene made of melting waxe.
Who so hath seene the Alcumists most vaine,
That work with Mercurie their cunning knacks,
Which quite disperst, rejoyneth evry member,
Would soone by this be made that to remember.
53
Fierce Aquilant among so many bloes,
With one, his head from off his shoulders strake,
About he seekes and gropeth as he goes,
And in the dust to find his head doth rake,
And finding it, he takes it by the nose,
Or by the locks, nor more ado doth make,
But sets it on as if it were but glewed,
And fights as if his forces were renewed.
54
Stout Griffin at a blow cuts off his arme,
And takes it up and flings it in the brooke,
But he like one that had receivd no harme,
Doth dive the same within the streame to looke,
Which found, he joynes (I know not with what charme)
Unto the place it late before forsooke:
Two dames stood by in white and blacke attire,
The combat being fought at their desire.
55
These were the courteous dames that with great care
Had brought them up evn from their swathing bads,
For these two brothers did by fortune rare
In their first childhood chance into their hands:
These two to Oliver, Gysmonda bare,
Though straight they were convaid to forren lands,
Where these two Ladies kept them as their owne,
I need not tell at large a tale so knowne.
56
Now was the time that neare approcht the night,
That makes each thing with shadow shew obscure,
So that not want of force, but want of light,
Did cause the combat could no longer dure:
The Ladies clad in garments blacke and bright,
That (as I said) this conflict did procure,
On this condition did them all dismisse,
That to returne next day they do not misse.
57
But when that English Duke both saw and knew,
The valiant youths Griffin and Aquilant,
Not onely by their armes he saw in vew,
But by their blowes, of which they were not scant,
He doth acquaintance old with them renew,
And they no point of courtesie do want,
For straightway by the Ladies he was led,
To take with them a supper and a bed.
58
Then in a garden sweet they did provide
Great store of daintie meats and costly wine,
Fast by a coole and pleasant fountaines side,
As best agreeth with the sommer time,
The while the giant with strong chaines they tide
Unto the body of an auncient Pine,
Lest he might hap to trouble and molest them,
While they determind to refresh and rest them.
59
The boord with rich and costly fare was filled,
And yet their smallest pleasure was their meat,
The Knights in languages and learning skilled,
Talke of Orillo and the wonder great,
To see one wounded so, and yet not killed,
It seemd to them a dreame and strange conceat,
And evn the wisest and most learnd did wonder,
How he rejoynd his members cut in sunder.
60
Astolfo onely in his booke had read,
(That booke that taught all charmes to overthrow)
How this Orillo never could be dead,
While in his head one fatall haire did grow,
But having puld this haire from off his head,
He should be subject unto evry blow,
Thus said the booke, but precept there was none,
Among so many haires to find that one.
61
Astolfo joyfull of this good instruction,
Not doubting but by this to make him die,
First makes some circumstance of introduction,
And prayes the brothers give him leave to trie,
If he could bring Orillo to destruction,
And they this friendly sute do not denie,
Not doubting he alone would strive in vaine,
With him that late resisted had them twaine.
62
Now had the Sunne removd the nights darke vaile,
When as Orillo turned to the field,
And then the English Duke did him assaile,
Both fought on horseback, both with spear & shield.
Evn then Orillo felt his heart to faile,
(A hap to him that hapned had but feeld)
Evn then some strange presage did him offend,
That shewd his dayes drew shortly to their end.
63
Their speares now broke their naked swords they drew,
Astolfo layes on blowes on him a maine,
About the field Orillos members flew,
But he together gathers them againe,
And straight his fight and forces doth renew,
The English Duke dismembring him in vaine,
Untill at length one blow so luckie sped,
That by his shoulders he cut off his hed.
64
And having headed him so evn and just,
Straight with his head on horsebacke he doth mount
And rides away, Orillo in the dust
Doth grope to find the same as he was wont,
But missing it and full of new mistrust,
To overtake him yet he makes account,
He rides, and would have cride ho tarrie tarrie,
But in his hand the Duke his tongue doth carrie.
65
But though his head were lost, he finds his heeles,
To spurre and pricke he never doth forbeare,
The headlesse body never stirs nor reeles,
But sits as sure as if the head were there:
The while the skull Astolfo puls and peeles,
Among such store to find thinchanted haire,
For in the haires no difference was in sight,
To know if he did take the wrong or right.
66
But sith to make sure worke he thought it best,
He makes his sword serve for a barbers knife,
To shave the skull therewith he doth not rest,
Untill he finisht had the bloudy strife:
He cuts that haire by chance among the rest,
That haire that held Orillo in his life,
The face looks pale, devoid of lively heate,
The body backward fals out of the seate.
67
This done, the Duke brought in his hand the head,
Returning to the company againe,
And shewd them where he left the carkas dead,
Which when they saw with certain signes and plaine
A kind of envious joy in them it bred,
For glad they were their enemie was slaine,
But inwardly they were displeasd and sorie,
That this same Duke had got from them the glorie.
68
The women also were not well content,
That he had slaine Orillo in the fight,
Because it hindred had their first intent,
Which was to stay these youths al means they might,
In hope thereby some mischiefes to prevent,
Which they foresaw should unto them alight:
Straight all that country was with rumor filled,
How thEnglish Duke Orillo fierce had killed.
69
For as in all those cities they do use,
The keeper of the next adjoyning fort,
Sent by a Dove a letter of the newes,
From Damiat unto the nearest port,
By which device most rare they cannot chuse
But heare and send with speed each true report:
And thus in evry country and in towne,
They do extoll this English Dukes renowne.
70
The worthy Duke the brothers doth perswade,
From thence their courses into France to bend,
To do the dutie for which man was made,
Gods honour and their countries to defend,
Which now the Turks and Painims did invade,
And neare had brought the same to wofull end:
Which counsell from so great a Prince proceeding
They follow straight with forwardnesse exceeding.
71
The women now with teares in watry eies,
Bid them farewell, and so they parted thence:
And for they heard the holy citie lies
Not passing sixe or sevn dayes journey thence,
To take it in their way they do devise,
To see the place, where for humane offence,
True God, true man descending from above,
Did die for us unworthy of such love.
72
And sith the way betweene was large and wide,
And void of fruits for sustenance of man,
They do good store of bread and wine provide,
With needfull things, as for the time they can,
And on the giants shoulders them they tide,
Who like a sumpter horse them after ran,
And on this sort with most devout intent,
Like pilgrims to Jerusalem they went.
73
Sixe dayes they traveld in their weary way,
Nor seeing man, nor beast, nor bird alive,
The seventh immediat after breake of day,
In that most blessed city they arrive:
Then visit they the tombe where Jesus lay,
When with his death he did us dead revive,
And brought hell, sinne and death into subjection,
With suffring, dying, and his resurrection.
74
Now while the tombe with great heed they behold,
Bare head and feet in shew of meek submission,
And with more inward joy then can be told,
Yet joyned with a deepe and sad contrition,
That strake their hearts in awe and made them cold,
With true remorse devoid of superstition,
And with themselves they still continued musing,
Each one himselfe in such like words accusing.
75
Why then, where thou deare Lord didst for our sake,
With water and with blood the ground distaine,
Shall not mine eyes some small amends to make,
Shed teares in memory of so great paine?
Oh drowsie heart that dost not now awake,
Oh frozen heart that meltest not in raine,
Oh stony heart that dost not now relent,
Lament thee now, or else for ay lament.
76
Thus with an humble and repentant sprite,
They tarride at the tombe no little space,
When lo the priest appeared in their sight,
Whose office was to keepe the holy place,
Who seeing them so lowly and contrite,
He doth impart to them this speciall grace,
(Sith to amendment they were now resolved)
Them of their sinnes forepassed he absolved.
77
This done, they went about and viewd the towne,
Held in those happy dayes by Christen hands,
Who striving now to keepe each other downe,
With causlesse warres do trouble sea and lands,
Or leesing or neglecting that renowne,
In which Gods honour and their safetie stands:
But letting this great enemy increase,
By their seeld making, never keeping peace.
78
A gallant knight whom Sansonet they call,
This city governd under Charles the great,
Who then intended to repaire the wall,
And make the town a strong and stately seat:
Astolfo gave to him the Giant tall,
For strength and stature fit for such a feat,
To serve his present purpose for the nonce,
Unto the wals to carie heavy stones.
79
And Sansonet doth eke on him bestow
A curious belt and hangers for a blade,
And spurs of gold, in substance rich and show,
That for that knight were thought to have bin made
That slue the Dragon with a deadly blow,
Which did the Lady chast and faire invade:
Thus gifts both givn and tane on either part,
Each from the other friendly doth depart.
80
Now going from Jerusalem, behold
They met a Greekish pilgrim by the way,
That such ill newes to good Griffino told,
As made him out of temper all the day:
It was his evill fortune, deare to hold,
And give his heart unto her for a prey,
That had a pleasing hue, and faire smooth skin,
But false, unchast, and trecherous within.
81
Her name was Origilla, whom of late
He left at Constans of an ague sick;
And hoping now to find her in good state,
He heares she hath him servd a sluttish trick,
As namely she had got a newfound mate,
Not caring if that he were dead or quick:
She thought that for her yong yeares twas no reason
To lie alone in that sweet pleasant season.
82
This newes his mind doth gripe, his heart doth bite,
He mournes by day, by night he takes no rest,
That breeds him paine, that others breeds delight,
And this torments him more than all the rest,
He shames, and shuns to have it come to light,
What was his griefe that did him so molest.
And this to keep it close the rather made him,
Because from her his brother did disswade him.
83
But all in vaine, for he was wholly bent
To follow her, although he knew her nought,
Yet to himselfe he keepeth his intent,
That secretly his going may be wrought:
He vowes to make thadulterer repent,
Who now to Antiochia her had brought:
But in another book I will expresse,
Of his departure what was the successe.
ARGUMENT
THE SIXTEENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Stout Griffin finds his subtill mistresse straying,
With vile Martano, but is pacifid:
The Turks and Christians all their force displaying,
Do fight, on both sides many thousands did:
Both man and house by sword and fire decaying,
Do make a wofull sight on either side:
Without the towne the Christians plague the Turks,
Within fierce Rodomont much mischiefe works.
SIXTEENTH BOOKE
1
Great paines in love full many men have found,
Of which my self have provd so great a part,
As by my skill some good may hap redound,
To such as are lesse skilfull in this art:
Wherefore what I affirme with judgement sound,
To breed just cause of lesse or greater smart,
Believe what I set downe for your behoofe,
Probatum est, I know tis true by proofe.
2
I do affirm, and have, and ever shall,
That he that binds himselfe in worthy bands,
Although his mistresse shew him grace but small,
Although he find no favour at her hands,
Sharp words, coy looks, smal thanks, hope none at all,
Though more and more aloofe from him she stands,
Yet so his heart and thoughts be highly placd,
He must not mourn, no though he die disgracd.
3
Let him lament, let him mourn, pine, and die,
Whom wanton wandring eyes, whom flaring haire
Have made a slave, when under them doth lie
A heart corrupt, a tongue that false will sweare,
Like wounded Deere in vaine he seekes to flie,
And in his thigh the shaft about doth beare;
And this above the rest torments him chiefe,
He is ashamd and dares not shew his griefe.
4
Such was the hap, such was the wofull state
Of Griffin now possest with foolish love,
He knew her mind and manners worthy hate,
Yet could not he this fancy fond remove:
His reason faine his passion would abate,
But appetite is placed her above:
That be she ner so false, ingrate or nought,
Yet needs of him she must be lovd and sought.
5
Away he steales from hence in secret sort,
Nor to his brother once adieu doth say,
For feare lest that his brother would dehort
Him from her love, as oft he did assay:
And that his journey may be cut more short,
He coasts the country for the nearest way,
He travels all the day and half the night,
Untill Damasco came within his sight.
6
Fast by this town this trull he overtooke,
That lovingly with her new love did ride,
And all old friends and lovers all forsooke,
He was her Champion, he her onely guide:
A man might boldly sweare it on a book,
He were a husband fit for such a bride,
He false, unconstant, trecherous, so was she:
She had a modest look, and so had he.
7
He rode all armd upon a stamping steed,
With gilded barb that cost full manya crown;
She ware no lesse magnificent a weed,
A rich embroidered purple velvet gown;
Thus to Damasco ward they do proceed,
Where late there was proclaimed in the towne,
A solemne feast that should endure some dayes,
For justs, for tilt, for turneyes, and for playes.
8
Now when the queen good Griffin had espid,
(For whom she knew her squire would be too weak)
Though sore appald, as scant she could it hide,
Lest he his wrath on both at once should wreak,
Yet as the time permits she doth provide,
Consulting with her guide before she speak:
And when they had agreed how to deceive him,
With open armes she runneth to receive him.
9
And framing then her speech with great regard,
To answer fit unto her gestures kind,
Deare sir (quoth she) is this the due reward,
My loyall love to you deserves to find?
That from your sight I should a yeare be bard,
Your sight that wholly can content my mind?
You left me grieved with a burning fever,
But burning more in love of you for ever.
10
Where I your comming lookd for long in vaine,
Each houre a day, each moneth did seem a yeare,
And of your absence long I did complaine,
Enquiring oft, if I of you could heare:
Alas how full is carefull love of paine?
So sad mine heart, so heavy was my cheare,
As being in despaire which way to mend it,
I loathd my life, and did desire to end it.
11
But lo how fortune when I looked least,
Hath now provided me of double aid,
And sent my brother, this most welcome guest,
With whom I have without dishonour staid,
And now your selfe whose presence makes me blest,
For had your comming longer been delaid,
So was my heart and soule to you inclind,
That sure for grief I should have did and pind.
12
Thus flattring words wherewith her tongue abounds,
Holp her in so good sort her tale to frame,
That now on him the greater fault redounds,
As glad he was to scuse himselfe from blame,
And her strong reasons sounded on weak grounds,
Do cleare both her, and him that with her came,
And makes him deemd a kinsman and a brother,
That did his best to make this maid a mother.
13
So that he did not onely not reprove
Her that so trechrously had him betraid,
So that he did not wreak as did behove,
Thadulterer that false with her had plaid;
But thinks it well if he the blame remove,
Which to his charge so probably she laid:
And as for him (love makes him see so blindly)
He calls him kinsman, and salutes him kindly.
14
Thus Griffin of his love no whit abates,
But keeps her company as with his own,
Untill they came within Damasco gates,
Where none of them were seen before or known.
The town was full of Lords and great estates,
The rumor of the feast so far was blown,
Which that they might have more securely haunted,
The king to all that came safe conduct graunted.
15
But here I cease to talk of Origill,
And of her mate with her as fitly met,
As knavish jack could be for whorish gill,
Unchast and false, as ever water wet:
To flatter and dissemble passing skill,
And all was fish that came into her net:
Now here I leave good Griffin in her armes,
And turne me to the Turkish men of armes.
16
I left where Agramant assaulted hard,
A gate which he had hoped to have found,
But weak and feeble, naked, unprepard,
And easie to be beaten to the ground:
I told you how king Charles the place did guard,
Invirond with selected souldiers round:
As namely Guydons strong, and Angilero,
With Oton stout Ovolyo Berlingero.
17
Thus either band in sight of either king,
Doth fight in hope of great reward and praise,
And thinks such honour back that day to bring,
As should themselves and all their ofspring raise.
But such great store of darts the Christens sling,
As still the Turks are foiled many wayes,
They die, and by their deaths do others reach,
How hurtfull tis to rove beyond their reach.
18
But Rodomont whose men consumd with fire,
Do fill their masters mind with double rage,
Yet to avenge their deaths doth so desire,
As nought but blood his thirst of blood can swage:
He spares not in the passion of his ire,
Nor men nor women, order, sex nor age,
Away do run the silly people crying,
And leave their children, friends, and wives a dying.
19
They happy were whose feet did serve them best,
The fury of this cruell Turke to shun,
For some were killed in the flight, the rest
Unto the Churches or strong houses run,
And lock the gates against so fierce a guest,
That in the streets had so great mischiefe done:
And of them all that had been slaine in chase,
Not one of them was wounded in the face.
20
But as the Tyger kils the fearfull Doe,
That but by flight cannot it self defend,
Or as the Wolves do spoile the sheep: evn so
This cruell Turke their guiltlesse blood doth spend:
They neither know to strike nor ward a blow,
To hurt their foe nor yet to help their friend:
Thus past the Pagan to S. Michels bridge,
And none there was his passage to abridge.
21
He kils alike the sinner and the good,
The reverend father and the harmlesse child,
He spils alike the yong and aged blood,
With widowes, wives, and virgins undefild;
And though that all did yeeld, and none withstood,
Yet mercy from his mind was so exild,
He shewd to such as things can truly value,
Great signes of cruelty, but none of value.
22
Nor doth the cruell rage and fury cease,
With seeing of so many people slaine,
But rather still it growes and doth increase,
Against those other that alive remaine:
Nor grants he to the Churches any peace,
But evn as though the walls could suffer paine,
He maketh furious warres against the walls,
And flings against them store of fiery balls.
23
Their houses all were built in Paris then,
Of timber (and I judge this present houre
Of brick and stone there are not six of ten)
Which made the Pagan then to bend his power,
To burn the houses, having kild the men:
And though that fire do of it self devoure,
Yet he doth help the fire and overthrew them,
And those that lurkd within he spoild and slue them.
24
Had Agramant had like successe without,
As had within this wicked Rodomount,
The wals of Paris had not kept him out,
On which so oft he did assay to mount:
But now this while the Angell brought about
Renaldo stout the flower of Clarimount,
Both with the English and the Scots supplies,
As secretly as Silence could devise.
25
And that they might them more unwares assaile,
They cast a bridge a league above the towne,
And passe the river to their best availe,
And so in battell order comming downe,
Not doubting if their footing do not faile,
To get that day great glory and renowne:
And still among the ranks Renaldo rides,
And for things needfull evermore provides.
26
Two thousand horse in good Duke Edmonds guide,
And thrice two thousand archers he doth send,
To get to Paris on the tother side,
To help within the city to defend:
(The cariages and other lets beside,
To leave behind a while he doth intend)
These succours greatly help the town within,
And at Saint Dennis gate they let them in.
27
Renaldo takes the conduct of the rest,
Appointing each his office and his place,
As in his skill and judgement seemeth best,
Sevring each band from others with a space:
And seeing evry one was prone and prest,
As was to be required in such case,
He calleth all the Lords and Leaders chiefe,
And usd to them this pithy speech and briefe.
28
My Lords (quoth he) I need not to repeat
Your weighty businesse unto you at large,
I onely say, you have just cause and great,
To give God thanks your duties to discharge,
That here hath sent you, where with little sweat,
But giving on your foes one valiant charge,
You may obtaine true fame and glory more,
Than all your ancestors obtaind before.
29
God, onely God that gives and guides good chance,
Hath offerd unto you this good occasion,
Your names and glories highly to advance,
Which is in noble minds a strong perswasion:
Behold the kings of England and of France,
Endangerd greatly by the Turks invasion,
Shut up in trenches and in wals with shame,
You may set free to your immortall fame.
30
The very law of nature and humanity
Wils noble hearts to help the weak distresd;
But more the lawes of state and Christianity,
Without your help now like to be oppresd,
And right Religion turnd to Turkish vanity,
Of which what harms will grow, may soon be guest,
Our temples faire with their foule idols fild,
Our virgins (chast by vow) deflourd and kild.
31
No mean, no stay, no end will be of slaughter,
Of rapes and rapines wicked and unjust;
No man shall keep his sister, wife, or daughter,
From out the reach of their unruly lust:
But now if you these sorrowes turn to laughter,
And raise your honour troden in the dust,
They must owe you the freedomes and the lives
Of them, their friends, their children, and their wives.
32
In ancient times a lawrell Civick crown
To him that savd one citizen they gave,
If then they had such honour and renown,
How many crownes shall you deserve to have,
If (not a townsman, but) a noble town,
And thousand innocents therein you save?
In you it lies them to preserve and cherish,
That (but for you) in wo should pine and perish.
33
Which if they should (as God forbid they should)
By these vile Saracens be overrun,
Then were the Romane Empire bought and sold,
The holy Church were spoild and quite undone:
In you it is these huge harms to withhold,
By you alone must this exploit be done,
Tread then this path of praise so large and ample,
Ile lead the way, follow but mine example.
34
This speech by him pronouncd with so good spright,
With voice so audible, with comely grace,
Incensed them with such desire to fight,
That tedious seemd to them each little space.
And as we see in riding men delight
To spurre a horse, although he run apace:
So stird Renaldo with this exhortation
Those of the English and the Scottish nation.
35
And having thus confirmd their forward hearts,
And promisd largely in his masters name,
Great recompence to evry mans deserts,
Unto the river walls he closely came,
His army he divides in sundry parts,
Lest breach of order bring them out of frame,
And with the Irish band he first indents,
To spoile their lodgings, and to rob their tents.
36
The rest he thus in prudent sort divides,
The wayard Zerbin hath in government,
The Duke of Lancaster the battell guides,
The Duke of Clarence with the rereward went,
Renaldo with some chosen men besides,
Gives first the charge by generall consent:
Then on a sodaine they do raise a shout,
And fild our side with courage, theirs with doubt.
37
Renaldo riding out afore the rest,
(With mind to do as much as he had said)
Puts spurs to horse and sets his speare in rest,
His onely sight the Pagans greatly fraid,
With fainting hearts, pale looks, and panting brest,
They shew most certaine signes of minds dismaid,
Yet stout king Puliano shewes no token
Of heart astonished or courage broken.
38
But trusting to his strength, and void of feare,
And ranging out in sight of all his band,
He met him man to man and speare to speare,
He met him horse to horse, and hand to hand:
But straight it plainly was discerned there,
Sleight without force in little steed doth stand:
This kind of fight was of a rougher sort,
Then running of a course at tilt in sport.
39
Thus was king Pulian overthrown and tane,
To no small terrour of the Pagan host,
Next came the king (that giant) of Oran,
That of his goodly stature much doth bost,
But soon Renaldo brought him to his bane,
His horse, his weapon, and his life he lost:
The horse was glad to find himselfe inlargd,
And of his heavy burden so dischargd.
40
Nor was Renaldo of his sword more spare,
Then of his speare before himselfe he showd,
His blade Fusberta pierced to the bare,
When he his thrusts or deadly blowes bestowd:
No shields, no coats of so good temper are,
Nor cloth in hundred folds together sowd,
That this same fatall blade of his withstood,
But that at evry blow it fetcht the blood.
41
Nor did Zerbino merit common praise,
That of his value shewd that day good proof,
He met the stoutest Turks at all assaies,
On horse, on foot, at hand, and farre aloof,
Attempting and performing sundry waies,
That might be for their harm and his behoof:
And all his band in fight was fierce and hot,
As is the nature of the valiant Scot.
42
And thus their fiery heat and courage bold,
Well shewd by blowes they to the Pagans gave,
Did make their stomacks faint, their courage cold,
And glad in thend by flight themselves to save:
For Sobrin one in yeares and judgement old,
(Though no lesse stout the those lesse age that have)
Doth now a little with his band retire,
To shun the fury of the Scottish fire.
43
The worthy Dukes of Albanie and Mar,
Ensud in valiant sort the good successe,
And with the same prevailed had so far,
As they had brought the Turks to great distresse,
Till Isolir the new king of Navar,
Came with his band their fury to represse;
And on that side the battell did restore,
Almost now lost, at least declind before.
44
Then grew the fight on both sides firm and stable,
Both sides defend, both sides alike invade,
They cast on both sides darts innumerable,
And make therewith a dark unpleasing shade:
An endlesse work it were to write the rable,
The Christens kild with bow, with bill, with blade,
Somtime the sway goeth hither, somtime thither,
Like waters drivn with doubtfull tides and weather.
45
When one is slaine, his room another fils,
When one is hurt, another takes his place,
And he that now another smites and kils,
Fals dead himself within a little space;
Great heaps of bodies dead make little hils,
The earth it selfe doth look with bloudy face,
The green wherewith it erst was overspread,
Is turnd to sanguine and vermilion red.
46
My pen would faile, and skill would be too scant,
To tell the famous acts that Zerbin wrought,
How his new brother noble Ariodant,
A fresh supply against the Pagans brought,
And how still one supplying tothers want,
Against the Turks with mutuall forces fought;
Then namely when the Prince was almost slaine,
By bastards two of Aragen in Spaine.
47
Chelindo one, the other Mosco hight,
These two at once on Zerbin bent their force,
In hope that if their hands could hit aright,
To wound him sore, or at the least unhorse,
They wound him not, yet forcd him to alight,
For under him so sore they hurt his horse,
To serve his Lord he was no longer able,
But made the field his everlasting stable.
48
This foile and fall his courage more do whet,
To lose the service of his trusty steed,
But from the saddle quickly he doth get,
His losse his wrath, his wrath revenge doth breed:
He means not long to tarry in their debt,
That to his horse did this unworthy deed:
And first he gave to Mosco such a thrust,
As made him tumble senslesse in the dust.
49
But when Chelindo saw his brother dead,
Revenge and feare in him together strave,
His inward care provokd him to have fled,
Himselfe from danger imminent to save,
But straight revenge another humour bred,
Expelling feare, and makes him bold and brave,
He spurs his horse in hope to overrun him,
But Zerbin slightly steps aside to shun him.
50
And such a blow he lent him as he past,
Upon his shoulders from the reredemaine,
That horse and man unto the ground were cast,
Whence neither of them rose alive againe:
And now the Spanish band came in so fast,
As noble Zerbin had almost been slaine;
But Ariodante then himselfe bestird,
And makes an open lane by dint of sword.
51
The while the Duke of Clarence doth assaile
Their rere that was by Baricondo led,
The English archers shoot as thick as haile,
Which to their horsemen great annoyance bred:
On evry side the Christens do prevaile,
On evry side the fearfull Pagans fled,
Great store were slaine, and many prisners taken,
Their battell now declined sore and shaken.
52
And had been lost, had not Ferraw by chance
Come to their aid as yong Olimpio fell,
Slaine by a knight of Scotland or of France;
A cruell knight, whose name I cannot tell:
Ferraw was sore aggrievd at this mischance,
He knew this youth and lovd him passing well,
Because his skill in musick was so choice,
Both for sweet stroke, and for his pleasing voice.
53
Had not the humour of ambition vaine
With crotchets new his foolish fancy fild,
He might have better staid at home in Spaine,
Than come abroad to be in battell kild:
But thus we see they get but losse and paine,
That deale in that in which they be not skild;
I wish musitions meddle with their songs,
And pray the souldiers to revenge their wrongs.
54
Ferraw that saw ten thousand slaine before,
Without or fetching sigh or shedding teare:
With this his minions death was grievd so sore,
As scarce he could evn then to weep forbeare,
But he that kild him shall abuy therefore,
By Macon and Lanfusa he doth sweare,
And straight performd it to the knights great paine,
For with his polax out he dasht his braine.
55
Nor so content, he runs among the presse,
And in his rage so many Scots he slew,
That their late forwardnesse he did represse,
And causd that they in hast themselves withdrew:
Then to the tents was sent the king of Fesse,
To make resistance to the Irish crew,
That spoild their lodgings having robd the best,
And went about to set on fire the rest.
56
Then when the stout king Agramant espid,
The danger great he and his men were in,
And how these new supplies on evry side,
Made his retire, and ground of them did win:
To save his own in time he doth provide,
And lets alone the wals, and them within,
Himselfe with Lords and other Princes store
Came where Ferraw was entred late before.
57
And in such strength they do their forces link,
And with such fury they restore the fight,
That now the Scots began to faile and shrink,
Save that Renaldo came evn then in sight,
And crid, O worthy Scots, and do you think
To save your selves by so unworthy flight?
Will you so leese the honour late you wonne?
Care you no more to save your masters sonne?
58
Do you no more regard your reputation,
By you in sundry bloudy battels got,
To leave the flower and jewell of your nation,
Amid his foes as if you lovd him not?
Ye shame your selves and all your generation,
If you distaine you with so foule a blot,
Turn, turn I say, and take some heart of grace,
And meet and smite these Panims in the face.
59
They that before were sore with feare possest,
Were now so heartned, that with honest shame,
Each one doth seem his safety to detest,
Each one his mind with anger doth inflame,
And where they left their captaine halfe distrest,
With this so forward guide as fast they came:
So Zerbin rescud was from Turkish forces,
And mounted straight one of the empty horses.
60
Renaldo that did ever take delight
To set on those that were most strong and stout,
When once king Agramant was come in sight,
Him from the rest forthwith he singles out:
But when between them was begun the fight,
They sundred were by those that stood about,
I meane the Turks, who their chief Prince defended,
Who els perhap his raigne evn then had ended.
61
Now while without the wals the battell so,
On either side with fury was renewd,
Fierce Rodomont within did work such wo,
More rufull sight with eye was never viewd;
To wrack profane the holy temples go,
He setteth fire on all, and to conclude,
He did alone so spoile the goodly citie,
As might have movd a stony heart to pitie.
62
And (while king Charles that was farre off from thence,
Did entertaine the newcome English host,
The which Renaldo sent for their defence)
Behold there came a messenger in post,
That lookd like one bestraught of wit and sence,
His voice with hast and feare was welnigh lost,
And when his broken words were plainly heard,
Ah well away (he cries) we all are mard.
63
Some fiend of hell (for sure a fiend of hell
It is that doth our city so destroy)
Is sent from Belzebub with us to dwell,
To work our utter ruine and annoy:
This day we must bid all good dayes farewell,
This day must be the last day of our joy,
Lo yonder how our sacred temples smoke,
Nor one in their defence dares strike a stroke.
64
Look how a man would be amazd to heare
A noise confusd of backward ringing bels,
And after find, when he approcheth neare,
New set on on fire his house wherein he dwels;
In such amazement and in such a feare
Was Charles to heare the tale this poore man tels,
And as he thither nearer came and nearer,
He sees the buildings clearer burn and clearer.
65
Of hardy Squires he culs a gallant crew,
And means to drive away this wicked wight,
If man it be, or sprite with humane hue,
That doth unto the town this fowle despight:
Now came he where he plaine might see in view
Men murdred, houses burnd, a wofull sight.
But now although perhap my story please you,
To pawse a little may refresh and ease you.
ARGUMENT
THE SEVENTEENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Fierce Rodomont leave Paris is constraind,
Martano at Damasco tilts most vily,
Stout Griffin thinks his running thereby staind,
And goes from thence, the while Martano slily
Doth steale his coat and horse, and so obtaind
Great gifts, and of the king is graced highly:
But Griffin taken in Martanos clothing,
Receives disgrace, each one his presence lothing.
SEVENTEENTH BOOKE
1
The most just God, when once mans sins do grow
Beyond the bounds of pardon and of grace,
Because that men his judgements just may know,
No lesse then love, to rule on earth doth place,
Vile monsters, such as tyrannize us so,
With wrong the right, with lust they lawes deface:
For this same cause were Sylla sent and Marius,
The Nerons both, and filthy minded Varius.
2
For this Domician held in Rome the raigne,
And Antoninus of that name the last,
And Massimin a base unworthy swaine,
To plague mankind in Princely throne was placd:
For this in Thebes did cruell Creon raigne,
With other tyrants more in ages past,
For this of late hath Italie been wonne,
By men of Lumbardie, of Goth, and Hunne.
3
What should I of unjust Attyla speak?
Of Esselin, and of an hundred more?
Whom God doth send his anger just to wreak,
On us that still neglect his sacred lore.
The times forepast long since, the present eke,
Of such examples yeelds us wofull store,
How we unthankfull and unfruitfull sheep
Are givn to hungry ravning Wolves to keep.
4
Such Wolves as would not onely by their wils,
Seaze all our goods and substance as their pray,
But also send beyond the Alps high hils,
For other wolves more hungerstervd than they:
The bones of men that Thrasimeno fils,
The fights of Treb and Cannas are but play,
If with our bloudy slaughters they compare,
Of Adda, Mela, Ronco, and of Tare.
5
No doubt but God in heavnly throne that sits,
And thence our deeds and thoughts doth plainly see,
Us to be spoild and conquerd thus permits,
By those that are perhaps as ill as we:
But if to please him we would bend our wits,
Then from these foes he soone would set us free,
And we shall see their punishment ere long,
That us oppresse by villany and wrong.
6
But now to turn from whence I did digresse,
I told you how when Charles the newes had heard,
Of houses burnd, and men in great distresse,
By him that doth nor God nor man regard:
Unto their aid he doth himself addresse,
And chuse some speciall men to be his guard,
And meeting such as fled their course he staid,
And these or such like words to them he said.
7
O simple fooles, what mean you hence to run?
Turn back for shame, turn back, and do not flie,
You chuse the greater ill the lesse to shun,
To live with shame, and may with honour die;
What city have you left when this is won?
What hope is left a fortune new to trie?
Shall one vile Pagan boast another day,
That he alone hath drivn you all away?
8
This said, he came unto the pallace gate,
Where now the Pagan Prince triumphant stood,
Most like a Serpent fierce that hath of late,
His old skin cast and left it in the wood,
Rejoycing now of his renewed state,
Of his fresh strength, of young and lusty bloud,
He shewes his forked tongue and comes apace,
And evry beast that sees him gives him place.
9
Thus scornfull and thus proud the Pagan stands,
With threats to spoile the Pallace and deface,
And not a man that once his force withstands,
Untill king Charles appeared in the place;
Who looking on his old victorious hands,
Said thus; and is now alterd so the case,
That these my hands that wonted were to win,
To yeeld and to be faint should now begin?
10
Why should the strength, the vigour and the might,
That I was wont in you to feel now faile?
Shall this same Panim dog evn in my sight,
My people slay, my dwelling house assaile?
No, first on me a thousand deaths alight,
No death can make a princely heart to quaile;
And with that word with couched speare in rest,
He runs and smites the Pagan on the breast.
11
And straight the other of the chosen crew,
On evry side the Pagan do beset,
But how he scapd, and what did then ensew,
Another time ile tell, but not as yet:
For first some matters past I must renew,
And namely Griffin I may not forget,
And crafty Origilla with the tother,
That was her bedfellow and not her brother.
12
These three unto Damasco came together,
The fairst and richest town of all the East,
What time great lords and knights repaired thither,
Allured by the fame of such a feast.
I told you from the holy city hither,
Was five or six dayes journey at the least:
But all the townes about both small and great,
Are not like this for state and fruitfull seat.
13
For first, beside the cleare and temprate aire,
Not noid with sommers heat nor winters cold,
There are great store of buildings large and faire,
Of carved stone most stately to behold,
The streets all pavd where is their most repaire,
And all the ground is of so fruitfull mold,
That all the yeare their spring doth seem to last,
And brings them store of fruits of dainty tast.
14
Above the City lies a little hill,
That shades the morning sun in early houres,
Of waters sweet (which here we use to still)
They make such store with spice and juyce of flowrs,
As for the quantity might drive a mill,
Their gardens have faire walks and shady bowrs:
But (that which chief maintaineth all the sweets)
Two christall streams do run amid the streets.
15
Such was the native beauty of the town:
But now because they look for great resort,
Of Princes and of Lords of great renown,
They deck their city in another sort:
Each Lady putteth on her richest gown,
Each house with Arras hangd in stately port:
The noble youths do stand upon comparison,
Whose horse doth best, who wears the best caparison.
16
Thus Griffin and his mates come to this place,
And first they view these showes with great delight,
And after they had rode a little space,
A courteous squire perswades them to alight,
And prayeth them to do his house that grace,
To eat and take their lodgings there that night:
They thank him for his kind and friendly offer,
And straight accept the courtsie he doth profer.
17
They had set down before them costly meat,
Of sundry wines there was no little store,
Of precious fruits the plenty was so great,
As they had seldom seen the like before:
The while their host doth unto them repeat,
The cause of all this feasting, and wherefore
The king appointed all these solemne sports,
To draw together knights of sundry sorts.
18
But Griffin (though he came not for this end,
For praise and bravery at tilt to run,
But came to find his fleeting female friend)
Yet was his courage such he would not shun,
In these brave sports some little time to spend,
Where of well doing honour might be won.
He promisd straight (though little were his leisure)
Before he go, to see and shew some pleasure.
19
And first he asketh farther of the feast,
If it were new ordaind, or els of old?
His host replieth thus (my worthy guest)
I shall in briefe to you this thing unfold:
Our Prince the greatest Prince in all the East,
Hath newly pointed this great feast to hold;
This is the first, but all of his retinue
Mind each fourth month this custome to continue.
20
In token of great gladnesse and great joy,
By all the city is the feast begun,
In token of the danger and annoy
That Norandin (our king) did lately shun,
Lockd up foure months, where he could not enjoy
The use of earth, of water, aire, nor sun:
Yet at the foure months end by hap he scapd
The death with yawning mouth that on him gapd
21
(But plaine to shew you whence did come the seed,
Of which this danger seemed first to grow)
Love did to Norandin this danger breed,
The king of Cypres daughter pleasd him so,
Because her beauty did the rest exceed,
To see her, needs (in person) he would go:
He saw he likd, he wood, he won, he married her,
And homward then by ship he would have caried her
22
But lo a wind and tempest rose so sore,
As three dayes space they looked to be drownd,
And made them land upon an unknown shore,
Where straight we pitcht our tents upon the ground,
And (for of trees and grasse there was good store)
The King in hope some venson to have found,
Into the next adjoyning wood doth go,
Two pages beare his quiver and his bow.
23
His meaning was some stag or buck to kill,
We wait his comming in the tent at ease,
When suddenly such noise our eares doth fill,
As wind in woods, and waves do make in seas,
And aye more nigh us it approched, till
We plaine might see unto our sore disease,
A monster huge that ran along the sand,
Destroying all that in the way did stand.
24
This Orke (for so men do the monster call)
Directed straight his course upon our tent,
His eyes were out, how ere it did befall,
But yet he was so quick and sharp of sent,
As all his blindnesse holp not us at all,
He hunteth like a spaniell by the vent,
His sent is such as none can hope to shun him,
His pace is such as no man can outrun him.
25
Thus whether they prepard to fight or fly,
Or whether feare both fight and flight did let,
He takes them as his prisners by and by,
Of forty, ten scarce to the ship could get,
Among the other prisners tane was I,
Whilst I our Queene in safety would have set,
But all in vaine to flie, it did not boot,
He was so quick of sent, and swift of foot.
26
As shepheards hang a wallet at their wast,
So at his girdle hangs a mighty sack,
In which the better sort of us he placd,
The rest he bound together in a pack,
And to his cave that was most huge and vast,
He beares us (hopelesse ever to come back)
A comely matron in this den he had,
Maids faire and foule, some poore, some richly clad.
27
Beside this female family of his,
He hath a cave wherein he keeps his flock,
That cave in length and largenesse passeth this,
Made all by hand out of the stony rock:
And (for mans flesh his chiefest dainty is)
Into the cave he safely doth us lock,
The while he leads abroad his goats and sheep,
Which in the fields adjoyning he doth keep.
28
The king not knowing this, returned back,
The silence that he found some feare did breed:
But when he found his wife and men were lack,
He then to sea did hast him with great speed:
He sees plaine signes of hast, of spoile, of wrack,
Yet knowes he not the author of this deed,
Untill he had his ship by hap recoverd,
Then by his men the fact was plaine discoverd.
29
When he had heard at last the wofull newes,
How greatly was his heart surprisd with griefe?
What gods, what fortune did he not accuse
For all his losses, but Lucyna chiefe?
But dangers all and death he first will chuse,
Ere he then leave his love without reliefe,
He either will her libertie procure,
Or els he will like chance with her endure.
30
He leaves his ship, and goes by land apace,
There where the monster had his love convaid,
And often wailes her hard and wofull case,
Desiring and despairing of her aid.
Now came he in the kenning of the place,
And stands twixt halfe amazd and halfe afraid:
At last he enters (love expelling feare)
When by good hap the monster was not there.
31
His wife was there, who with compassion movd,
Admonishd him to make but little stay,
But hasten thence, if so his life he lovd,
Lest that her husband find him in the way:
Yet from his purpose this him not removd,
But to the sober matron he doth say,
In vaine you seek to drive me hence by terror,
Desire hath hither brought me, and not error.
32
By my ill hap while I abroad was riding,
The Orko bare away my dearest wife,
I hither come of her to heare some tiding,
Or having lost my love to leese my life,
I care not I, if she in life be biding,
If she be dead, my death shall end this strife,
Love in this point so resolute hath made me,
You should but leese your labour to disswade me.
33
The gentle matron in this sort replies,
Know this, thy wife in safety doth remaine,
But hard it is to compasse or devise,
Which way to get her from his hand againe,
His want of sight, his passing sent supplies,
To strive with him by force it were but vaine,
He spoileth men, but women do not die,
Save onely such as strive away to flie.
34
But those he finds his company to shun,
With hatred great he doth for aye pursue,
Some he doth hang all naked in the sun,
And day by day their torments doth renue;
And some immediately to death are done,
Both yong and old, both foule or faire of hew,
So that to seek to set Lucyna free,
May harm her much, and little profit thee.
35
Wherefore my sonne depart the while thou may,
(The matron saith) Lucyna shall not die,
For hither shortly he will her convay,
Where she shall fare no worse than these and I,
Depart? (quoth he) nay here I mind to stay,
And fall what shall, I will my fortune trie,
And if my hap be such I cannot free her,
At least I meane before I die to see her.
36
The matrons mind with much compassion moved,
To see his loving and most constant mind,
That from his purpose would not be removed,
To bring him aid and comfort was inclind:
And then she told him how it him behoved,
If so to see his wife he had assignd,
To use some such device as she would tell him,
That when the Ork should come he might not smell him.
37
She had that hanged in the houses roofe,
The hairie skins of many a bearded goate,
And knowing best what was for his behoofe,
Of one of them she makes him make a coate,
And with goates suet for a further proofe,
To noint his body from the foote to throate:
And in this sort his shape and favour hiding,
He commeth to the place where we were biding.
38
Now night drew neare, his horne the Orke doth blow,
And all his heards came backe unto his fold,
And Norandin among the goates doth go,
And enters in, love maketh him so bold,
The Orko shuts the doore, and leaves us so,
Shut up as safe as in a towre or hold,
Then doth the King at large unto his lover,
His comming and the meanes thereof discover.
39
Lucina doth not onely not rejoyce,
To see her husband come thus strangely clad,
But with most lamentable mournfull voyce,
She blamd him that such perill ventred had,
And sweares that if she might have had her choyce,
She would alone have felt this fortune bad,
And that before it somewhat easd her paine,
To thinke that he in safetie did remaine.
40
Thus said Lucina faire with watred eies,
As seeming now more dolefull then before;
But Norandino in this sort replies,
Thinkst thou my deare I loved thee no more?
Yes sure, and will evn now a meane devise
Both thee and these to freedome to restore,
And to deliver from this servile slavery,
By helpe of this same skin and grease unsavery.
41
And straight he taught us as himselfe had tride,
Each one to kill a goate and take the skin,
And outwardly to weare the hairy hide,
And to be nointed with the grease within.
Thus evry one doth for himselfe provide,
Before the sunne did yet to shine begin,
Then came the Orke and movd away the stone,
And out the bearded goates came one and one.
42
The smelling Orko at the doore doth stand,
We past like goates and make no noise nor speech,
Yet oft he groped with his hideous hand,
But poore Lucina could not chuse but skreech;
Or that he hapt to touch her with his wand,
Or else too roughly pawd her by the breech,
So back he puts her straight, and locks her up,
And sweares that she should drinke a sory cup.
43
Himselfe drives out his flocke (as wont he was)
And we like goates among the goates do keepe,
And when as they were feeding on the grasse,
The monstrous heardman laid him downe to sleepe.
Thus we escapt, but our good King alas,
(That mist his love) doth nought but waile and weep
And save that still he hopt of her reliefe,
He would no doubt have dide of very griefe.
44
At night he turneth back with like desire,
As he before had come to set her free,
And he conceales himselfe with like attire,
From him that wants his instrument to see.
The Orke inflamd with cruell rage and ire,
And finds himselfe deceived thus to be,
This recompence he points her for her paines,
Upon that hill to hang each day in chaines.
45
A cruell doome, but who could it resist?
Away went we, each for himselfe afraid,
But Norandino ever doth persist
In his first purpose of procuring aid,
Lamenting that so narrowly he mist
To bring her out, among the goates he staid,
And like a goate (forgetting his estate)
He goth out early, and returneth late.
46
She sees him go and come, but all in vaine,
She maketh signes to him to have him part,
He constantly resolveth to remaine,
The love of her possesseth so his hart,
Despising danger and enduring paine,
He hopeth hopelesse still to ease her smart,
At foure months end (good fortune so prepard)
Gradasso thither came and Mandricard.
47
And (for her father was their loving frend)
They gave this bold attempt to set her free,
And to her father straight they do her send,
Who was full glad and joyfull her to see,
And that her dangers had this happie end:
But Norandino was more glad then he;
Who with the goats no longer now did stay,
But while the Orko slept he stale away.
48
And now for joy of this great perill past,
In which he stayd so wofull and forlorne,
And that the memorie thereof may last,
To those that shall be, and are yet unborne,
(For never Prince before such wo did tast,
Nor stayd so long in misery and scorne,
And it shall be just sixteene weeks to morow,
That he remained in this wo and sorow.)
49
Therfore I say the King prepares this sport,
With very great magnificence and bost,
Inviting hither men of evry sort,
Such as in chivalrie excell the most,
That far and neare may carie the report,
Of these great triumphs unto evry cost.
This tale the courteous host did tell his guest,
Of him that first ordaind the sumptuous feast.
50
In this and such like talke they spend the night,
And then they sleepe upon their beds of downe,
But when that once it shined cleare and light,
The trumpets sounded over all the towne,
And Griffin straight puts on his armor bright,
Aspiring after fame and high renowne;
His leud companion likewise doth the same,
To shew a hope as well as he of fame.
51
All armed thus they came unto the field,
And view the warlike troupes as they did passe,
Where some had painted on their crest and shield,
Or some device that there described was,
What hope or doubt his love to him did yeeld,
They all were Christens then, but now alas,
They all are Turks unto the endlesse shame,
Of those that may and do not mend the same.
52
For where they should employ their sword and lance,
Against the Infidels our publike foes,
Gods Word and true Religion to advance,
They to poore Christens worke perpetuall woes:
To you I write, ye Kings of Spaine and France,
Let these alone, and turne your force on those:
And unto you also I write as much,
Ye nations fierce, Zwizzers I meane and Dutch.
53
Lo, tone of Christen Kings usurps a name,
Another Catholike will needs be called:
Why do not both your deeds declare the same?
Why are Christs people slaine by you and thralled?
Get backe againe Jerusalem for shame,
That now the Turke hath tane from you and walled
Constantinople get that famous towne,
That erst belonged to thImperiall crowne.
54
Dost not thou Spaine confront with Affrike shore,
That more then Italy hath thee offended?
Yet to her hurt thou leavest that before,
Against the Infidels thou hadst intended:
O Italy a slave for evermore,
In such sort mard, as never can be mended,
A slave to slaves, and made of sinne a sinke,
And sotted sleepe like men orecome with drinke.
55
Ye Swizzers fierce, if feare of famine drive you,
To come to Lombardie to seeke some food,
Are not the Turks as neare? why should it grieve you
To spill your foes, and spare your brothers blood?
They have the gold and riches to relieve you,
Enrich your selves with lawfull gotten good,
So shall all Europe be to you beholding,
For driving them from these parts, and withholding.
56
Thou Lion stout that holdst of heavn the kayes,
(A waightie charge) see that from drowsie sleepe
Thou wake our realme, and bring her joyfull dayes,
And from these forren wolves it safely keepe,
God doth thee to this height of honor raise,
That thou mayst feed and well defend thy sheepe,
That with a roring voice and mighty arme,
Thou mayst withold thy flock from evry harme.
57
But whither roves my rudely rolling pen,
That waxe so sawcie to reprove such peeres?
I said before that in Damasco then
They Christend were (as in records appeares)
So that the armor of their horse and men
Was like to ours (though changd of later yeares)
And Ladies fild their galleries and towrs,
To see the justs as they did here in ours.
58
Each strives in shew his fellow to exceed,
And to be gallant in his mistris sight,
To see each one manage his stately steed,
Was to the standers by a great delight:
Some praise unto themselves, some shame do breed,
By shewing horses doings wrong or right,
The chiefest prize that should be of this tilt,
An armor was rich, set with stone and gilt.
59
By hap a merchant of Armenia found
This armour, and to Norandin it sold,
Who, had he knowne how good it was and sound,
Would not have left it sure for any gold,
(The circumstance I cannot now expound,
I meane ere long it shall to you be told)
Now must I tell of Griffin that came in,
Just when the sport and tilting did begin.
60
Eight valiant Knights the chalenge did sustaine,
Against all commers that would runne that day,
These eight were of the Princes private traine,
Of noble blood, and noble evry way,
They fight in sport, but some in sport were slaine,
For why as hotly they did fight in play,
As deadly foes do fight in battell ray,
Save that the King may when he list them stay.
61
Now Griffins fellow was Martano named,
Who (though he were a coward and a beast)
Like bold blind Bayard he was not ashamed,
To enter like a Knight among the rest,
His countenance likewise in shew he framed,
As though he were as forward as the best,
And thus he stood and viewd a bitter fight,
Between a Baron and another Knight.
62
Lord of Seleucia the tone they call,
And one of eight that did maintaine the just,
The Knight Ombruno hight of person tall,
Who in his vizer tooke so great a thrust,
That from his horse astonied he did fall,
And with his lively blood distaind the dust:
This sight amazd Martano in such sort,
He was afraid to leese his life in sport.
63
Soone after this so fierce conflict was done,
Another challenger straight steppeth out,
With whom Martano was requird to runne,
But he (whose heart was ever full of doubt)
With fond excuses sought the same to shunne,
And shewd himselfe a faint and dastard lout,
Till Griffin egd him on, and blamd his feare,
As men do set a mastive on a Beare.
64
Then tooke he heart of grace, and on did ride,
And makes a little florish with his speare,
But in the middle way he stept aside,
For feare the blow would be too big to beare:
Yet one that would seeke this disgrace to hide,
Might in this point impute it not to feare,
But rather that his horse not good and redie,
Did shun the tilt, and raune not evn nor stedie.
65
But after with his sword he dealt so ill,
Demosthenes him could not have defended,
He shewd both want of courage and of skill,
So as the lookers on were all offended,
And straight with hissing and with voices shrill,
The conflict cowardly begun was ended:
In his behalfe was Griffin sore ashamed,
His heart thereto with double heate inflamed.
66
For now he sees how much on him it stands,
With double value to wipe out the blot,
And shew himselfe the more stout of his hands,
Sith his companion shewd himselfe a sot,
His fame or shame must flie to forren lands,
And if he now should faile one little jot,
The same wold seem a foule and huge transgression,
His mate had fild their minds with such impression.
67
The first he met Lord of Sidona hight,
And towards him he runs with massie speare,
And gave a blow that did so heavie light,
As to the ground it did him backward beare:
Then came of Laodice another Knight,
On him the staffe in peeces three did teare,
Yet was the counterbuffe thereof so great,
The Knight had much ado to keepe his seate.
68
But when they came with naked swords to trie,
Which should the honor and the prise obtaine,
So Griffin did with deadly strokes him plie,
At last he left him stonid on the plaine.
Straightway two valiant brothers standing by,
That at Griffino tooke no small disdaine,
The tone Corimbo, tother Tirse hight,
These two forthwith do challenge him to fight.
69
Successively them both he overthrew,
And now men thought that he the prise would win,
But Salintern that saw them downe in vew,
To envie good Griffino doth begin,
This man the stoutst of all the courtly crew,
Doth take a speare in hand, and enters in,
And to the combat Griffin straight defies,
And scornes to have a stranger win the prize.
70
But Griffin chose one staffe among the rest,
The biggest and the strongest of a score,
And with the same he pierceth backe and brest,
That downe he fell and never stirred more;
The King that loved and esteemd him best,
Laments his death, and maketh mone therefore,
But yet the common sort were faine and glad,
That knew his mind and manners were but bad.
71
Next after him two others he doth meet,
Ermofilo the captaine of his guard,
And Carmond Admirall of all his fleet,
With these a while he had a conflict hard,
The first unhorst was left upon his feet,
The other with a blow was almost mard.
Thus of eight challengers remaind but one,
The rest were quite subdude by him alone.
72
This one was he of whom at first I spake,
Lord of Seleucia a valiant man,
This one to Griffin did resistance make,
And long it was ere ought of him he wan,
But one blow on his head so fierce he strake,
As he likewise to stagger now began,
Had not the King made them to have bene parted,
Sure Griffin had him kild ere he had parted.
73
Thus all those eight, that all the world defide,
By one alone were vanquished and slaine,
So as the King was forced to provide,
An order new for those that do remaine;
(By parting runners some on either side)
For yet was spent not past an houre or twaine,
Lest this his triumph should have end too soone,
He makes them spend therein the afternoone.
74
But Griffin full of wrath and discontent,
Backe to his host with his companion came,
The praise he wan did him not so content,
As he was grievd at his companions shame:
Wherefore to leave the towne they do consent,
While men were busie looking on the game,
And to a little towne fast by he goes,
And meanes himselfe a while for to repose.
75
The travell sore he had before endured,
So great a wearinesse in him had bred,
And such desire of sleepe withall procured,
As straight he gat him to his naked bed.
The while Martano to all fraud inured,
And using aid of her mischievous head,
(As he did soundly sleepe) devisd the while
A stratageme most strange, him to beguile.
76
They do conclude to take Griffinos steed,
And cote, and evry warlike implement,
And that Martano in Griffinos steed,
Himselfe to Norandino shall present.
This they devisd, this they performd in deed,
And boldly backe againe Martano went,
In Griffin armor stoutly stepping in,
As did the Asse that ware the Lions skin.
77
He rusheth in among the thickest presse,
An houre before the setting of the sunne,
The King and all the rest straightway do guesse,
That this was he that had such honor wonne:
And straight great honour they to him addresse,
And cause the like by others to be done,
And his base name, not worthy to be named,
About the towne with honor was proclaimed.
78
Fast by the King he rideth cheeke by cheeke,
And in his praise they songs and verses make,
In Hebrew tongue, in Latin and in Greeke.
And now this while did Griffin hap to wake,
And seeing that his armour was to seeke,
He first begins some small mistrust to take,
Yet hardly could it sinke into his reason,
That she had givn consent to such a treason.
79
In feare and doubt no little time he hovered,
But when his host the truth had plaine declard,
And that he saw the falshood plaine discovered,
By which she had in follies bands him snard,
Then truth shewd plain, that love before had covered,
And to revenge this wrong he straight prepard,
But wanting other furniture (perforce)
He tooke Martanos armor and his horse.
80
And backe unto Damasco he doth ride,
Arriving there within an houre of night,
And entring at the gate upon the side,
The pallace of the king stood plaine in sight,
Where then the King a blanket did provide,
For many a Duke and Lord, and valiant Knight,
And Griffin boldly sate among the rest,
Forgetting that he ware the scorned crest.
81
And taken for the man whose coate he ware,
His presence did the better sort offend,
Of which when vile Martano was aware,
That of the table sate at thupper end,
And sees that to disgrace him they forbare,
And thinke him his companion and his frend:
His friendship and acquaintance he renounced,
And this hard doom of him he straight pronounced.
82
O King (quoth he) it seems that for my sake,
You graciously forbeare to do him shame,
That of his basenesse shamefull proofe did make
This day, and now againe confirmes the same:
But you the matter and the man mistake,
I know not him, his nation, nor his name,
By chance I met him onely on the way,
I never saw him I, till yesterday.
83
Wherefore might I herein your grace advise,
You should a sample make him for the rest,
That here presents unto your princely eies,
Himselfe unworthy, and unwelcome guest,
Let him tormented be in cruell wise,
(This is my doome) let him be hangd at least,
And unrevenged let him not be borne,
That Knighthood should receive so great a scorne.
84
Thus much the vile and base Martano seth,
And Origilla soothd it with as much,
And wisht an halter stop the villains breth.
Nay (quoth the King) the sinne is nothing such,
As is in law or reason worthy death,
His life or yet his liberty to tuch:
This, for examples sake I thinke it meet,
To do him some disgrace in open street.
85
And straight he rounds a Sergeant in his eare,
And secretly appoints him what to do,
Who came forthwith unto the table where
Griffino sate, and made no more ado,
But leadeth him, that no such thing did feare,
A secret prison and a sure unto,
And for that night he clapt him up in fetters,
Where theeves do use to lie and evill debters.
86
Next day Martano that did greatly dread,
Lest this his foule device would come to light,
If Griffin should be heard his cause to pleade,
Therefore as soone as Phoebus shined bright,
(Pretending businesse) away he sped,
And leaves Griffino in this wofull plight:
But ere he goes, the King to him imparts
No small rewards for his, not his desarts.
87
But let him go his wayes, and do not doubt,
That this unknowne and unrevengd shall be:
Straight was Griffin from the jayle put out,
And carted so as all men might him see,
Tide hand and foot, and people all about,
Of which the most were but of meane degree,
Also the armor whence this error came
Was hald about unto his farder shame.
88
With many filthy words they him revile,
From filthy tongues, that hard it is to stop,
And shewd him round about the towne the while,
At evry crosse, and house, and stall and shop:
Then thinking him for ever to exile,
They led him of that hill unto the top,
And there his bonds they loose with great disgrace,
And then they will him packe him thence apace.
89
With scornfull sound of bason, pot and pan,
They thought to drive him thence like Bees in swarmes,
But when he was untide, then he began
To make them know their error to their harmes,
Then he did lay about, and play the man,
Now having use of both his warlike armes,
But in what sort he them dismayd and scared,
Within another booke shall be declared.
ARGUMENT
THE EIGHTEENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Now Griffins knowne and felt: Algyre doth threaten
The Tartar Prince: Charles fighteth and prevailes:
Martano like a coward is well beaten,
Marfisas force Damasco warriers quailes:
From thence with tempest tost, and weather beaten,
Both she and Griffin and Astolfo sailes:
Medor and Cloridan with care and paine,
Seeke for the carkas of their master slaine.
EIGHTEENTH BOOKE
1
Most worthie Prince your vertues high and rare,
With tongue and penne I praise, and ever shall,
Although my words and verse inferiour are,
In number and in worth to match them all:
But all above this one I do compare,
And far prefer, and pure divinest call,
That giving gracious care to those are greeved,
Yet evry tale is not by you beleeved.
2
Oft have I heard your highnesse hath refused,
Although the same most earnestly were sought
To heare the guiltlesse absent man accused,
(And when a great complaint to you was brought)
You have the matter and the man excused:
Suspending still your judgement and your thought,
And keeping till the truth were truly tride,
Ever one eare for the contrarie side.
3
Had Norandino had so great a grace,
As not to credite tales so lightly told,
He had not offerd Griffin this disgrace,
No though thereby he might have gained gold:
But so doth rashnes vertue oft deface,
As here was proved that was said of old;
The silly people beare the scourge and blame,
Oft when their Princes do deserve the same.
4
For Griffin (as in part I told before)
When as his hands and feete were once untide,
Did deale about of blowes and thrusts such store,
As well was he could for himselfe provide,
His wrath was such as none he then forbore,
The old, the young, the strong, the feeble dide:
And they that laught before to see him carted,
Now for their labor whinde as much and smarted.
5
The people faint and mazed fled away,
From him whom late they did deride and scorne,
He followd them and kild them by the way,
Dastards more meet to die, then to be borne.
But in this chase a while I let him stay,
Triumphing now that lately was forlorne:
Of Rodomont now somewhat must be spoken,
On whom at once I said eight speares were broken.
6
Eight speares at once upon the scaly skin,
Did light, and divers darts were throwne aloofe,
For speares and darts he passeth not a pin,
Such was his strength, so sure his armors proofe:
But when he saw that more and more came in,
To part from thence he thinks his best behoofe,
For why on evry side they do assaile him,
That needs at length his breath and strength must faile him.
7
Evn as the Lions whelps that see a Bull,
Are at the first of his great strength affraid,
But when they see their sire to teare or pull
His throte and sides, they runne their sire to aid,
And flie upon his face and horned scull,
Till prostrate on the ground they have him laid:
So now when Charles himselfe was in the place,
Each one tooke armes, each one took hart of grace.
8
Who so hath seene a huge well baited Beare,
With many dogs, men standing close about,
When he by hap the stake or cord doth teare,
And rusheth in among the thickest rout,
How suddenly they runne away with feare,
And make a lane to let the Beare go out:
He might (I say) compare by such a sight,
The manner of this Pagans fight and flight.
9
He rusheth out, and with his two hand blade,
He florisheth about in so fierce sort,
That soone a way for him to passe was made,
To hinder him his way it was no sport,
And those that by the way did him invade,
Except they shifted better, were cut short:
Thus in despite of Charles and all his realme,
He came unto the banks of Sequans streame.
10
And standing from the banke a little distance,
That few or none behind could him enclose,
An howers space and more he made resistance,
Against King Charles, whose powre stil greater groes
Till in the end in hope of no assistance,
Displeasd, but not disgrast away he goes:
He takes the river fretting in his minde,
That he had left a man alive behinde.
11
And so he swelld in anger and in pride,
That he had thought to turne him backe againe,
And to have mounted on the other side,
And all that should withstand him to have slaine:
But lo a messenger he then espide,
That made him from that rash attempt refraine,
But who did send him, and what word he bare,
I meane to you another time declare.
12
But first what Discord did I meane to show,
Who as you heard was by the Angell sent
Among the Pagans, seeds of strife to sow,
And as she was commanded thither went:
Yet leaving Fraud behind the coales to blow,
Least all the fire of strife should quite be spent,
And to augment his strength, as much as may be,
He carrid Pride with him out of the Abby.
13
Pride leaves Hypocrisie to keepe his place,
And thus these jarring friends togither go,
And when they traveld had a little space,
They found by hap dame Jelousie also,
That met a dwarfe that run a trudging pace,
Evn as she wanderd idlely to and fro:
And learning unto whom this page was sent,
To go with him she quickly did consent.
14
You call to mind (for sure you cannot chuse,
But call to mind so late a written storie)
How Mandricardo Doralice did use,
And kept with joy whom he did win with glorie:
She secretly sent notice of this newes,
(Though afterward her selfe perhap was sorie)
To Rodomont, and sharply him incited,
To venge her rape as I before recited.
15
The messenger arrived then by hap,
When from the streame the Pagan did ascend,
And told him all the tale of her mishap,
And how another did possesse his frend:
Cold jelousie straight enterd in his lap,
And Pride with Discord do the matter mend,
Alledging if he put up this disgrace,
Then let him nere looke Ladie in the face.
16
Like as a Tyger that her young hath lost,
Supprisd by hunters hand and borne away,
Doth follow on the foote through evry cost,
No dikes nor waters wide can make her stay:
So Rodomont with love (and anger most)
Enflamed, could endure no more delay,
And though he want his horse, that did not boote,
To cause him stay, he rather goes on foote.
17
He meanes what ever horseman next he spide,
To take his horse of frend or else of foe,
At this is Discord pleasd, and said to Pride,
That she was glad their busnes cotned so:
I will (quoth she) a horse for him provide,
An horse shall cost him deare enough I trow;
But what of him and of that horse befel,
Another time not now I meane to tell.
18
This while the most renowned Christen King,
That had expulst the Pagan from the towne,
His valiant men of armes about doth bring,
And on the sodaine lets the draw bridge downe,
And with a fresh assault their foes so sting,
While fortune smild on him, on them did frowne,
That they had runne away like men dismaid,
Had not Ferraw couragiously them staid.
19
My mates in armes (quoth he) brethren and frends,
Provd valiant heretofore, now hold your place:
More happie far is he his life that spends,
In honour, then that keeps it in disgrace;
Loe me your generall that here entends,
No way to staine the blood of Spanish race;
The patterne follow that I shew you furst,
And then I care not, let them do their worst.
20
Thus in that part Ferraw the fight renewd,
And draws with him the chosen Spanish band,
That oft in Christen blood their hands imbrewd,
And none almost but they did now withstand:
But destinie can never be eschewd,
As may by their successe be rightly scand;
Behold Renaldo comes, and as he came,
It seemd he carrid lightning fierce or flame.
21
Not long before Almontes valiant sonne,
Hight Dardanell, had slaine a Christian Knight,
And proud of that his glorie lately wonne,
And of this good successe he had in fight,
About the field he carelessely did runne,
Untill he hapt to see a wofull sight,
He saw Alfeo yeelding up the ghost,
A youth whom he esteemd and loved most.
22
Lurcanio was the man that did the deed,
And Dardanell to venge it doth intend,
Lurcanio followd on and tooke no heed,
The other all on him his force doth bend,
And with a waightie speare, him and his steed,
Unto the earth together he doth send,
And pierst his thigh, and put him in such paine,
As scant he able was to rise againe.
23
But Ariodant (that deare his brother loved)
And sees him in such paine and danger lie,
Was therewithall in wrath so greatly moved,
He meaneth to avenge his hurt, or die:
But though that he attempted oft and proved,
Yet could he not to Dardanell come nie,
For still of other men, the throng and number,
Did him in this attempt molest and cumber.
24
No doubt the heavns had Dardanell ordained,
To perish by a more victorious hand;
Renaldos blade must with his blood be stained,
And was, as after you shall understand:
By him this praise and glory must be gained,
The fame whereof must fill both sea and land:
But let these westerne warres a while remaine,
And of Griffino talke we now againe.
25
Who taught those of Damasco to their harmes,
What wrong they did to cart him in such sort,
They fill the towne with uprores and alarmes,
Mens mouthes and eares were full of this report:
The King brings forth five hundred men in armes,
And sends five more to fortifie the fort:
For why this tumult brought him in perswasion,
That sure some host of men did make invasion.
26
But when he saw no men, no host, no band,
No troupes of horse the citie to invade,
Onely one man (well knowne) that there did stand,
And of his people such a slaughter made,
(Movd with remorce) he stretcheth out his hand
Naked, in shew of peace, as is the trade,
And openly his rashnesse he lamented,
That such a Knight to harme he had consented.
27
And Griffin when to find he now begunne,
The King was of so good an inclination,
And that the wrong to him before was done,
Not of his owne, but others instigation:
To make a friendly concord doth not shunne,
Because hereby he lost no reputation:
And there he tarid at the Kings request,
To cure his wounds and take a little rest.
28
This while his brother Aquilant the blacke,
That with Astolfo still in Jewrie staid,
And sees his brother now so long did lacke,
Was in his mind all sad and ill apaid:
They heard no newes of him, they found no tracke,
Though wait about in evry place was laid,
Untill the Greekish pilgrim they had met,
By whom of him some inkling they did get.
29
He told them how a certaine wanton dame,
Hight Origilla, with a ruffian knave,
That kept her openly without all shame,
Yet going in apparell fine and brave,
These two (the pilgrim said) together came,
From Antioch (as forth in speech they gave)
And to Damasco then they meant to go,
But what became of them he did not know.
30
And further unto Aquilant he told,
How he Griffino met this other day,
And did to him the matter all unfold,
And how forthwith Griffino went his way,
With chase enough, and swearing that he would
Kill this same vile adultrer if he may:
No sooner had his speech the pilgrim ended,
In post to follow, Aquilant intended.
31
In post he followd to Damasco ward,
And when he traveld had a day or twaine,
(Behold that God that ever doth reward
The good with blessings and the bad with paine)
That gracelesse couple that before you heard,
Betraid Griffino with that divellish traine,
Into the hands of Aquilant did give,
While they in pleasure most securely live.
32
I say that Aquilant by Gods permission,
Doth meet the vile Martano on the way,
His horse, his coate, and outward apparition,
So like unto Griffino evry way,
That Aquilant at first without suspition,
Went to embrace him, and began to say,
Brother well met, I joy of your welfare,
Your absence bred in me much feare and care.
33
But when he saw the tother not replide,
But shrunke away like one that were afraid,
Ah traitor villain; yeeld thy selfe, he cride,
Thou hast my brother spoiled and betraid,
Tell me (thou wretch) doth he in life abide?
To whom in humble sort Martano said,
(With fainting hart, with quaking voice & trembling
Yet in the midst of all his feare dissembling.)
34
Oh pardon sir, your brother is alive,
And like to live, and hath no hurt, nor shall,
The truth is this, I being loth to strive
With him, because I found him stout and tall,
Did with no ill intent this drift contrive,
To save my selfe and do him hurt but small,
For this same womans sake that is my sister,
With open force not daring to assist her.
35
It grieved me to see how he by lust
Did her abuse whom nature made me love,
And for I thought it was both meet and just,
Her from this wicked custome to remove,
And sith I did his valew great mistrust,
I thought it best by pollicie to prove:
I stale his horse and coate while he was sleeping,
And so convaid her quite out of his keeping.
36
Well might Martano beare away the bell,
Or else a whetstone challenge for his dew,
That on the sodaine such a tale could tell,
And not a word of all his tale was trew,
But yet in shew it all agreed well,
Save one which Aquilant most certaine knew,
Was false, and he in vaine did seeke to smother,
He was her bedfellow, and not her brother.
37
With hand and tongue at once he doth replie,
And in one instant he both strake and spake,
I know (quoth he) vile villaine thou dost lie,
And on the face so fiercely him he strake,
He makes two teeth into his throate to flie;
Then with great violence he doth him take,
And him and her he binds in bitter bands,
Like captives carrid into forren lands.
38
And thus in hast unto Damasco riding,
He swears that he these bands would not unbind,
Till of his brother he do heare some tiding,
Whom in Damasco after he did find;
Who now with cunning Phisicke and good guiding,
Was almost heald in body and in mind,
And when he saw his unexpected brother,
They both saluted and embracd each other.
39
And after they had made in speech some sport,
About full many a foolish accident,
(For Aquilant had heard a large report
Of Griffins carting, and his punishment)
At last he asketh Griffin in what sort
They should this couple worthily torment;
To hang and draw, and burne their privie parts,
Was not too much for their too foule desarts.
40
The King and all his Councell thought it good,
Because their fault was such so open knowne,
That they should publikely dispill their blood,
And their desarts might publikely be showne:
But yet that motion Griffin straight withstood,
Pretending private causes of his owne,
Onely he wisht Martano should be stript,
And at a cart drawne through the street and whipt.
41
And as for her, although she had deserved
A punishment as great as he, or more,
Yet was the sentence of her doome reserved
Untill Lucina came, and not before:
So that by Griffins meane she was preserved,
So great a sway love in his fancie bore:
Here Aquilant by Griffin was procured,
To bide with him untill his wounds were cured.
42
Now Norandin that all his powre still bends,
To honor Griffin all the meanes he may,
And with great courtesie to make amends,
For that disgrace he did him thother day;
To make another triumph he intends,
Set forth with pompe and state, and rich array:
And that the same may flie to forraine nations,
He notifies it straight by proclamations.
43
At foure weekes end the triumph should begin,
The same whereof about so farre was blowne,
Without the land of Jewrie and within,
At last unto Astolfo it was knowne,
Who asking Sansonets advice herein,
Whose wisedome he preferd before his owne,
At last for company they both agree,
To go together these same justs to see.
44
Now as they went upon their way, behold
They met a gallant and a stately dame,
With whom this Duke acquainted was of old,
Marfisa was this noble Ladies name:
She traveld like a Knight, her heart was bold,
Her body passing strong unto the same,
And when she knew both why and where they went,
To go with them she quickly did consent.
45
And thus these three their journey so contrive,
As just against the day and solemne feast,
Together at Damasco they arrive,
Each one well mounted on a stately beast,
The King that specially did care and strive,
To honor Griffin more then all the rest,
By all the meanes and wayes he could devise,
Augmented much the valew of the prise.
46
And where it was, as I before declard,
A single armor rich and finely wrought,
Now Norandino at this time prepard,
To set it out with things not lightly bought,
To this he adds a horse most richly barbd,
By riders skill to great perfection brought,
Wel shapt, wel markt, strong limbd, & passing swift,
The beast alone, fit for a Princes gift.
47
All this he did, because great hope he saw,
That Griffin once againe the prise would win,
But then was verifide the old said saw,
Much falls betweene the Challice and the chin:
For when Marfisa (void of feare or aw)
Without had viewd this armor and within,
And finds it had bene hers by marks well knowne,
She seizeth straight upon it as her owne.
48
The King that ill so great disgrace could brooke,
Did shew himselfe therewith much discontent,
And with a princely frowne and angry looke,
His silence threatned that she should repent,
And in so great despite the thing he tooke,
That straight some sergeants unto her he sent,
With souldiers, some on foote and some on horse,
Deceivd much in her sex, more in her force.
49
For never did a child take more delight,
With gawdie flowres in time of spring to play,
Nor never did yong Ladie brave and bright,
Like dauncing better on a solemne day,
Then did Marfisa in the sound and sight
Of glittring blades and speares delight to stay:
And this did cause her take therein more pleasure,
Because her strength was great beyond all measure.
50
Those few that were to apprehend her sent,
And punish her for this unlawfull deed,
Were causd their comming quickly to repent,
And others by their harmes tooke better heed:
The armed Knights most diversly were bent,
Some standing still to mark what this would breed,
Some to the sergeants thought to bring reliefe,
Of whom were Griffin and his brother chiefe.
51
The English Duke doth deeme it were a shame,
To leave Marfisa in this dangerous case,
Sith chiefly for his company she came,
And Sansonet doth deeme it like disgrace,
Wherefore they meane how ere the matter frame,
Not leave her unassisted in the place,
Astolfo had a charmed speare all gilt,
With which he used oft to runne at tilt.
52
The vertue of this charmed speare was such,
Besides the gilding bright and faire of hew,
That whom so ere the head thereof did tuch,
Straight him from off his horse it overthrew,
Griffino first although disdaining much,
He quite unhorst, nor who it was he knew:
Then Aquilant that to revenge it ment,
Unto the ground in manner like was sent.
53
Thus did these warriers three themselves behave,
But chiefe Marfisa, who would never rest,
But would in spite of all, the armor have,
Nor once vouchsafe to aske it or request;
She doth the King and all his nobles brave,
And when the best of them had done his best,
On evry side she beat the people downe,
And from them all made way out of the towne.
54
Sansonet and Astolfo did the like,
King Norandinos men of armes pursew,
The foolish people crie stop, kill and strike,
But none comes neare, but stand aloofe to vew:
A narrow bridge there was, this place they pike,
And to defend it against all the crew,
Till Griffin came, having his horse recovered,
And by some markes the English Duke discovered.
55
And straight his brother Aquilante came,
And of Astolfo both acquaintance take,
And then in civill termes they somewhat blame
Her litle count she of the King did make,
Astolfo friendly told to them her name,
And in defence of her some words he spake,
The rest that came marvell to what it tends,
To heare them talke together now like friends.
56
But when that Norandinos souldiers hard
Her name, so dreaded over all the East,
They surely thought that they should all be mard,
And that the citie would be tane at least,
Therefore they pray the King to have regard.
But now Marfisa (moved by request
Of those two brothers) friendly doth consent,
Herselfe before the Prince for to present.
57
And thus without much reverence she spake,
Sir King, I marvell what your highnesse ment,
A prise and gift of such a thing to make,
As is not yours without I give consent:
The Armes this armor hath plaine proofe do make,
Namely a crowne into three peeces rent:
Once I put off this armor in a way,
To chase a theefe that stale from me a pray.
58
Then said the King, faire dame the truth is so,
Of one Armenian merchant I them bought,
I make no question be they yours or no,
Nor needs for proofe more witnesse to be brought,
For though they were not, I would them bestow
On you, if so the same by you were sought:
As for Griffino unto whom I gave them,
He shall be pleasd I hope, and not to have them.
59
I will him recompence some other way,
And give him gifts of as great worth or more;
Thanks to your highnesse Griffin straight doth say,
Preserve me in your grace, I aske no more:
But when Marfisa saw that evry way
They honord her, she changd her mind before,
To shew magnificence she usd this drift,
That he must take this armor as her gift.
60
And thus good friends all turned back againe,
And then with double joy the feast they hold,
In which chiefe praise did Sansonet obtaine,
The other foure did then themselves withhold,
Wishing the praise should unto him remaine,
And then with greater cheare then can be told,
By Norandino they were nobly feasted,
And there themselves they well reposd and rested.
61
Sevn dayes or eight the King them entertained,
And those once past, of him their leave they take,
The which with gifts and honor great obtained,
Unto the towne of Tripoly they make,
And in one company these five remained,
And mind not one the other to forsake,
As long as one of them was left alive,
Untill in France they safely should arrive.
62
And straight they get a vessell for their hire,
A merchants ship new laden from the West,
The master of the ship an auncient sire,
Consented to their wils with small request,
The wind as then servd fit for their desire,
And blowes a gentle gale all from the East,
So that with filled sailes in little while,
They came as farre as Cypres, Venus Ile.
63
Here evry place was full of odours sweet,
Of gardens faire or spice of pleasant tast,
The people lustfull (for dame Venus meet)
From tender yeares to doting age do last,
With wanton damsels walking in each street,
Inviting men to pleasure and repast,
From hence againe they loosed, at what time,
Don Phoebus charret unto thEast did clime.
64
The weather still was temperat and cleare,
A pleasant gale their swelling sailes did fill;
No signe of storme or tempest did appeare,
To such as in the weather had best skill:
But loe the weather oft doth change her cheare,
Evn as a woman oft doth change her will,
For sodainly they had such stormes of wether,
As if that heavn and earth would come together.
65
The aire doth on the sodaine grow obscure,
But lightned oft with lightnings dreadfull light,
And save their houreglasse kept them reckning sure
Twas hard for to discerne the day from night:
The desprat marriners do all endure,
As men inured to the waters spight,
The heavns above, the waves beneath do rore,
Yet are not they dismaid one whit therefore.
66
One with a whistle hangd about his necke,
Showes by the sound which cord must be undone,
And straight the shipboy ready at a becke,
Unto the tops with nimble sleight doth runne,
The other marriners upon the decke,
Or at the steere the comming waves do shunne,
And then by turnes they pump the water out,
By paine and care preventing evry doubt.
67
Now while this noble crew with tempest tost,
Went in the sea as wind and weather drave,
And looke each minute to be drownd and lost,
The Christians with a fresh assault and brave,
Set on the Pagans sorely to their cost:
Who now began the worser side to have,
But chiefly then their courage gan to quaile,
When noble Dardanellos life did faile.
68
Renaldo him had noted from the rest,
Full proud of slaughter of so many foes,
And to himselfe he said tis surely best,
To crop this weed before it higher growes,
Therewith he sets his fatall speare in rest,
And cries to Dardanello as he goes,
Alas poore boy, much wo to thee they bred,
That left to thee that sheild of white and red.
69
Ile trie if you defend those colours well,
(He saith) which if with me you cannot do,
Against Orlando fierce, I can you tell,
For to defend them will be great adoe.
Thus said Renaldo, and noble Dardanell,
In valiant wise thus answerd thereunto,
Know this (quoth he) that these my colours I
Will bravely here defend, or bravely die.
70
With that he spurrd his horse (as this he spake)
And with great force Renaldo did assaile,
But loe the staffe upon his armor brake,
So as his blow but little did availe,
But straight Renaldos speare a way did make,
And pierce the double folds of plate and maile,
And went so deepe into the tender skin,
The life went out there where the staffe went in.
71
Looke how a purple flowre doth fade and drie,
That painefull plowman cutteth up with sheare,
Or as the Poppeys heads aside do lie,
When it the bodie cannot longer beare;
So did the noble Dardanello die,
And with his death fild all his men with feare,
As waters runne abrode that breake their bay,
So fled his souldiers breaking their array.
72
They flie unto their tents with full perswasion,
That of the field the masterie was lost,
Wherefore to fortifie against invasion,
They spare no time, no travell, nor no cost;
Now Charles by forhead meanes to take Occasion,
And follows them full close with all his host,
And comming to their tents so bravely venterd,
That he with them themselves almost had enterd.
73
Had not his valiant attempt bene staid,
By over hastie comming of the night,
So that of force as then it was delaid,
And either side was drivn to leave the fight,
But with this difference, all the Turks dismaid,
And newly gatherd from their fearfull flight,
The Christians on the tother side pursewing,
And day by day their hope and powre renewing.
74
The number of the Turks that day were slaine,
Was more then fourscore thousand (as they say)
Their bloud did fat the ground of all that plaine,
And makes the ground more fertile to this day:
Among the dead some men halfe dead remaine,
Left there for theeves and robbers as a pray,
Within the Pagan campe great mone they make,
Some for their friends, some for their kinsfolks sake.
75
Two youths there were among so many more,
Whose friendship fast and firme, whose faithful harts
Deserved to be plast the rest before,
And to be praised for their good desarts,
Their names were Cloridano and Medore,
Both borne farre hence, about the Estern parts,
Their parents poore, and not of our beleefe,
Yet for true love they may be praised chiefe.
76
The elder of the two hight Cloridan,
An hunter wilde in all his life had beene,
Of active limbs, and eke an hardie man,
As in a thousand men might well be seene:
Medoro was but yong, and now began
To enter too, of youth the pleasant greene,
Faire skind, black eyd, and yellow curled heare,
That hangd in lovely locks by either eare.
77
These two among the rest kept watch that night,
And while the time in sundry speech they spent,
Medoro oftentime most sadly sight,
His masters death did cause him to lament,
Oh (said Medoro) what a wofull spight:
What cruell scourge to me hath fortune sent?
That Dardanel Almontes worthy sonne,
So sodainly should unto death be done?
78
Behold his noble corse is left a prey,
To be devoured by the wolfe and crow,
A food too fine to be so borne away,
But I shall remedy that hap I trow,
Ile find the meane his corse thence to convay,
I am resolvd my selfe will thither go,
That for the good he did me when he livd,
At least his corse by me may be relievd.
79
When Cloridano heard this saying out,
He stood amazd, and musing in his mind,
In tender yeares to find a heart so stout,
Unto so dangerous attempt inclind,
And straight disswades him, casting many a doubt,
To make him change the thing he had assignd:
But still Medoro doth resolve to trie,
To bury Dardanell, or els to die.
80
When Cloridan so resolute him found,
Of his own frank accord he vow doth make
To follow him in broken state and sound,
And never him to leave or to forsake;
And straight they two do leave this fenced ground,
And pointing new supplies their roomes to take
They find the Christen camp lie all neglected,
As those that feare no harm, nor none suspected.
81
I say those Christens that the watch should keep,
Lay as they cared not for foe nor friend,
Their senses so possest with wine and sleep,
That none of them their office did attend:
But Cloridan that saw them drownd so deep,
(Said thus) Medoro, now I do intend
To get for our great losse this small amends,
To kill some foes, that killed all our friends.
82
Stand thou and watch, and harken evry way,
And for the rest let me alone to trie,
This said, he goes where one Alseo lay,
That took upon him knowledge in the skie,
By which he dreamd he should live many a day,
And in his wives beloved bosome die:
But all was false, his cunning him deceivd,
For now this Pagan him of life bereavd.
83
And many more whom here I do not name,
That sleep on boards, or making straw their bed:
At last where wretched Grillo lay he came,
That on an empty barrell couchd his head,
Himselfe had emptied late before the same,
A deadly sleep the wine in him had bred,
The Turke his sword within his bowels fixd,
Out came the blood and wine together mixd.
84
Neare Grillo slept a dutchman and a Greeke,
That all the night had plid the dice and drink,
To both of them at once he did the like,
That dreamd perhaps of sevn and of sysesink:
They had been better watched all the week,
Then at so bad a time as this to wink:
Death certaine is to all, the Proverb saith,
Uncertaine is to all the houre of death.
85
Look how a Lion fierce with famine pind,
That comes unto a flock of silly sheep,
Where neither fence, nor people he doth find,
Doth spoile the flock the while the shepheards sleep;
So Cloridano with as bloudy mind,
That found those husht that watch and ward should keep,
Could not his cruell rage and malice bridle:
Nor was this while Medoros weapon idle.
86
For he that did disdaine to make to die,
Those of the common and the baser sort,
Came there where Duke Labretto then did lie,
Embracing of his Lady in such sort,
As yvie doth the wall, they lay so nie,
Now soundly sleeping after Venus sport,
So close, the aire could not have come betweene;
Medore their heads at one blow cuts off cleane.
87
Oh happy state, o life, o death most sweet,
For sure I think their soules embracing so,
In heavnly seat do oft together meet,
And in good peace and love did thither go.
Then next a captaine of the Flemish fleet,
And thEarle of Flaunders sonnes with other mo,
Medoro kild, and so far forward went,
He came but little from the Emprors tent.
88
But loe they both with shedding bloud now tird,
And fearing lest at length some few might wake,
Ere long time past, both by accord retird,
And mind their first attempt in hand to take,
(as both, but as Medoro chiefe desird)
Most secretly unto the field they make,
They mean although they both were faint & weary,
The noble Dardanellos corse to burie.
89
The heaps of men that in the field remaine,
Some dead, and some between alive and dead,
Had made their labour to have been in vaine,
Had not the moone shewd out her horned head,
So bright, as cleare discoverd all the plaine,
That then was coverd with Vermillion red,
Were it a chance or els his earnest prayer,
That made the moon at that time shine so faire.
90
Now after search by Phoebes friendly light,
The good Medore espid him on the ground,
Who when he saw that grievous wofull sight,
He was for sorrow ready there to sound;
And out he cries, alas o wo thy wight,
Not worthy, in this sort to have been found;
Now my last duty do I mean to pay,
And then to say, farewell to you for ay.
91
Thus spake Medoro shedding many a teare,
And minding now no longer time to tarrie,
The loved corse doth on his shoulders beare,
And Cloridano holp the same to carrie,
And they that erst were stout and void of feare,
Were waxen now so timerous and warie,
Not for their own, but this deare burdens sake,
That evry little noise did cause them quake.
92
This while the noble Zerbin, having chast
His fearfull foes while others were asleep,
That had his heart on vertues lore so placd,
As did to noble deeds him waking keep,
Came with his troope where these two made great hast
By hils, by dales, by stony waies and steep,
The carkas of their Lord to beare away,
When much it wanted not of break of day.
93
The Scots that were of noble Zerbins band,
And saw two men go loden down the plaine,
Make after them a gallop out of hand,
In hope to light upon some prey or gaine:
When Cloridano spying ore the land,
Did say twas best to let the corse remaine,
Alledging that it was a foolish trick,
In saving one dead man to lose two quick.
94
And herewithall his hold he letteth slide
And thinks Medoro would the same have done,
He meanes himselfe in the next wood to hide,
And toward it in great hast he doth run;
But good Medoro that could not abide,
To leave the office he so late begun,
Although with double paine and duller pace,
With all the burthen fled away in chase.
95
And to the wood the nearest way he went,
In hope to get it ere the horsemen came,
But now his breath and strength were so farre spent,
As they had very neare him overtane,
Yet in his deed he doth no whit relent,
To leave his Lord he counts it such a shame.
But they that think this story worth the reading,
Must take a little respite in proceeding.
ARGUMENT
THE NINETEENTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Angelica doth heale, and wed Medore:
Marfisa, with that other worthy crew,
Lands (after travell long) upon the shore
Of Amazons: where when the law they knew,
Stout Guydon, that came thither late before,
Fought with Marfisa, who his nine men slue;
But when the combat ceast for want of light,
Then Guydon prayth them lodge with him that night.
NINETEENTH BOOKE
1
None can deeme right who faithfull friends do rest,
While they beare sway and rule in great degree,
For then both fast and fained friends are prest,
Whose faiths seeme both of one effect to be:
But then revolts the faint and fained guest,
When wealth unwindes, and fortune seems to flee,
But he that loves indeed remaineth fast,
And loves and serves when life and all is past.
2
If all mens thoughts were written in their face,
Some one that now the rest doth overcrow,
Some other eke that wants his soverains grace,
When as their Prince their inward thoughts should know:
The meaner man should take the betters place,
The greater man might stoop and sit below.
But tell me now how poore Medoro sped,
That lovd his master both alive and dead.
3
In vaine he sought to get him to the wood,
By blind and narrow paths to him unknown,
Their swift and his slow pace the same withstood,
Forcd by the burden that he bare alone.
But now, when Cloridano understood
Medoros case, he made for him great mone,
And cursd himselfe, and was full ill apaid,
That he had left his friend devoid of aid.
4
Medoro all about so straight beset,
To leave his loved load was then constraind,
But all in vaine he sought from thence to get
His masters carkas that behind remaind,
Was unto him so fierce and strong a let;
It staid his weary steps, and him retaind,
Evn as a Beare that would defend her whelp,
About doth hover though she cannot help.
5
So good Medore about the corse did hover,
The while that Cloridano commeth back,
And (for the day was dawnd) he might discover,
How greatly his Medore, his help did lack;
Wherefore to do his best him to recover,
He takes his bow and quiver from his back,
And at a Scot he took his aime so well,
He strake him in the braine that down he fell.
6
The fall and death so sodaine of the Scot
Abated much the courage of the rest,
And much they marveld whence should come this shot,
And sore this accident did them molest:
But Cloridan for this forbare them not,
But shot another in about the brest,
The which inflamd Zerbinos mind so sore,
That for revenge he would have slaine Medore.
7
And fastning in his golden curled haire,
His warlike hand, thou shalt (said he) abuy,
Thou shalt the penance and the burthen beare
Of him, that here hath made my men to die:
Yet for all this, Zerbino did forbeare
To kill him, when he saw with gracious eye,
His sweet sad look, and harkned to his speech,
That in this sort for pardon did beseech.
8
Sir knight (he said) for thy Messias sake,
I thee do pray and earnestly conjure,
So much compassion now on me to take,
To let me give my Lord his sepulture.
I little care what spoile of me ye make,
What paines or tortures I my selfe endure,
I onely sue, so long my life to save,
As I may lay my master in his grave.
9
Now while Medoro spake these words and such,
Whereby Zerbino was to mercy movd,
And to his favour was inclined much,
As one that gratefulnesse had ever lovd,
A vile base swaine so rudely did him touch,
As him not onely from his place removd,
But with his staffe most rudely overthrew him,
That evry one do deem him dead that view him.
10
This fact did so Zerbinos mind offend,
That presently the villain he did chase,
And to have killed him he did intend,
And had, but that the other fled apace:
But when that Cloridano saw his friend,
With bleeding wound he prostrate in the place,
He means himselfe no longer now to hide,
But evn to die by deare Medoros side.
11
And as he purposd, so he did indeed,
For fighting manfully he there was slaine,
The Scots do onward on their way proceed,
Medoro halfe alive doth now remaine:
And still his brest in wofull sort doth bleed,
The staffe had cut therein so large a veine,
And sure he had bled out his life and all,
But for one rare good hap did him befall.
12
For lo, a damsell came, though meanly clad,
In shepheards weeds, yet fresh and faire of favour
And such a one as in those base clothes had
A shew of princely birth and high behaviour,
She finding him he there in case so bad,
Did think it charity to be his saviour:
This was (if you forget) the Lady faire,
That of Cataya was undoubted heire.
13
I shewd you by what hap she gat the ring,
And how the same had fild her with such pride,
And her into so high conceit did bring,
That all her suters now she flat denid,
She careth not for Earle, nor Duke, nor King,
Orlando she and Sacrapant defid,
But chiefly she would blush and be ashamd,
If she but hapt to heare Renaldo namd.
14
So great her folly grew, so vaine her pride,
As she esteemed all the world at nought,
The which when once the blind boy had espid,
(Not blind when any mischiefe may be wrought)
He will no longer this presumption bide,
And for a fit occasion long he sought,
And finding this, he thought himselfe now sped,
And up he drawes his arrow to the head.
15
Now when this Indian Queene did there behold
A lovely youth lie dying in the place,
His body feeble in a mortall cold,
A deadly pale amid his lively face,
A kind of passion straight on her took hold,
That movd her mind to pitie this his case,
And much the rather when he did declare
The wofull cause that bred him all this care.
16
She having learnd of Surgerie the art,
An art which still the Indians greatly prize,
Which fathers to their children to impart,
Whose knowledge in tradition chiefly lies,
Which without books the children learn by hart,
I say Angelica doth then devise,
By skill she had in juyce of herbs and flowers,
For to renew Medoros lively powers.
17
And calling to her mind she late had seen,
An herb whose vertue was to stanch the blood,
As Dittamie, or some such herb I ween,
That for such purpose wholsome was and good;
Straightway she seeks this herb upon the green,
With all the hast and diligence she could;
And finding it, she takes thereof a branch,
Whose vertue was the course of blood to stanch.
18
Then comming back againe, she met by hap,
A silly shepheard seeking of his cow,
That brake out of his ground at some small gap,
And now was straid he knew not where nor how,
She prayes him take the herbs were in her lap,
(A servitor more fit to serve a sow)
And beare her company unto the place,
Where poore Medoro lay in dangrous case.
19
Then from their horse she and the shepheard light,
And straight between two tiles those herbs she brusd
And took the juyce between her fingers bright,
And so into the wound the same infusd,
Whose vertue great revivd Medoros spright,
To find himselfe so well and kindly usd,
That doubt it was which most his wound did salve,
The precious surgeon or the precious salve.
20
And now he had recoverd so much force,
As what with hers, and with the shepheards aid,
He clamerd up upon the shepheards horse,
Howbeit in the place so long he staid,
Untill he saw his loved masters corse,
Into a grave with Cloridanos laid;
And then, and not before he did agree,
To do as they by her should pointed be.
21
From thence unto the shepheards house she went,
And made her patient eke with her to go,
And there to bide with him she was content,
Till he were clearely rid of all his wo:
But in this while she felt her heart relent,
With sundry qualms that wonted not be so,
And when his comely personage she saw,
A secret heat she felt her heart to gnaw.
22
For while she heald his wound, another dart
Did wound her thoughts, and high conceits so deep,
As now therewith was ravisht her proud heart,
Possessing it although she wake or sleep:
Her wound to heale, there was no herb nor art,
For more and more like flame the same doth creep,
Yet her chiefe care is him to help and cure,
That all this torment doth to her procure.
23
Thus while Medoro better growes and better,
She feels her self tormented more and more,
And he that for his love to her was debter,
Is he alone that plagueth her so sore:
Wherefore though modesty a while did let her,
Yet now perforce no further she forbore,
But plainly to Medoro told her grief,
And at his hands as plainly askd relief.
24
O stout Orlando, valiant Sacrapant,
O fierce Ferraw, o hundreds more beside,
Where are those valiant acts of which you vaunt?
Where is your pomp, your glory, and your pride?
One poore Medore all your desires doth daunt,
One poore Medore doth all your power deride,
And she whom all of you have wood in vaine,
To woo Medoro doth not now disdaine.
25
She suffers poore Medoro take the flowre,
Which many sought, but none had yet obtaind
That fragrant rose, that to that present houre
Ungatherd was, behold Medoro gaind,
And over her to give him perfect power,
With sacred rites a marriage was ordaind,
And with the veile of this so sacred order,
She covers this her folly and disorder.
26
Now when the solemne marriage was done,
Of which god Cupid askd the banes (I trow)
She going forward as she hath begun,
Continud there with him a month or mo,
From rising to the setting of the Sun,
With him she doth sit, talk, lie, stand and go,
Forgetting so all maidenly sobrietie,
That she of him could never have satietie.
27
If in the house she staid, then would she crave
Medoro in the house with her to stay,
If in the field she walk, then must she have
Medoro lead or guide her in the way:
And by a river in the shady cave,
They oft did use to spend the heat of day:
Like to that cave where (shunning stormy weather)
The Trojan Duke and Dido met together.
28
Amid these joyes (as great as joyes might be)
Their manner was on evry wall within,
Without on evry stone or shady tree,
To grave their names with bodkin, knife, or pin,
Angelica and Medore, you plaine might see,
(So great a glory had they both therein)
Angelica and Medore in evry place,
With sundry knots and wreathes they enterlace.
29
Now when she thought in this well pleasing place,
She had already made sufficient stay,
And, for she longd to do Medore that grace,
To give to him her kingdome of Catay,
From whence she had been absent so long space,
From this poore house she means to go away,
Yet minds she ere she go, her host to please,
With whom she found such pleasure and such ease.
30
Angelica had since she was a gerle,
Worn on her arm (as for Orlandos sake)
A bracelet rich, of precious stone and pearle,
Which as a token she of him did take,
And though she had it of this worthy Earle,
Yet did she thereof chiefest reckning make,
Not that the giver she did much esteem,
But for the gift was rich, and so did seem.
31
By her this bracelet many yeares was worn,
Not onely in her time of peace and joy,
But evn when she remained most forlorn,
And subject to each danger and annoy,
Evn then when nakd as ever she was born,
The Orko came in hope her to enjoy.
This bracelet (wanting store of coine and pence)
She gives her host as for a recompence.
32
Next day betime she getteth on her way,
And makes Medoro sole her Lord and guide,
He kept her company both night and day,
And none but he with her did go and ride;
Their meaning is at Berselon to stay,
A port in Spaine, untill they may provide
A vessell that with help of oare and wind
May them transport from Spanish seas to Inde.
33
But ere they were arrived at this port,
They met a mad man of his wit bestraught,
Besmeard with dirt and mire in filthy sort,
His outward sense expeld with inward thought:
This mad man made them but ilfavourd sport,
And had made worse, had he them rightly caught,
But as it was, he put them in great danger,
And flies at them as dogs do at a stranger.
34
But how she scaped and away did get
With her new love, hereafter I declare:
For why Marfisa I may not forget,
And those with her that in the tempest are,
With Griffin, Aquilant, and Sansonet,
And thEnglish Duke that hath the horn so rare,
Which five I left in danger and disease,
Tost terribly in the tempestuous seas.
35
Now while the wind continud blowing hard,
And of his rage did small or nothing bate,
The master sets his compasse and his card,
And cals to counsell first the masters mate,
And then the mariners of best regard
Consulting of the weather and their state,
And evry one doth tell his guesse and thought,
Neare to what coast the tempest had them brought.
36
Some say Lymisso, Tripoly some say,
Some say Satila, full of rocks and sands,
And sweare that all of them were cast away,
Except they keep aloofe from off those lands;
This causeth some to curse and some to pray,
And lift to heavn their wofull hearts and hands,
Their stuffe nor merchandize none care to save,
But hurle the same into the greedy wave.
37
Well might they bost of iron heart and breast,
That could at such a time be void of feare:
The stout Marfisa at that time confest,
She wisht with all her heart not to be there,
So sore the swelling seas did them molest,
As though it would the ship in peeces teare,
Nor was there any signe the wind would cease,
And that the sea would grant them any peace.
38
One vowes a journey to the holy tombe,
Another to Galicia vowes to go,
Unto Saint James, some others unto Rome,
Or other hallowed places that they know:
The mariners feare nought but want of roome,
Sea roome they wish, then care they for no mo,
At foure daies end it cleard and waxed faire,
Or weret the season, or their earnest praier.
39
And as the weather grew more cleare and cleare,
They did discover plaine a goodly coast,
And to the port as they drew neare and neare,
Born in by tide, their sailes and tackle lost,
Behold a goodly city did appeare,
With to