Orlando Furioso Part 124

XX Here as my story stood not on good ground, Frederick Fulgoso doubtful does appear; Who, searching Barbary's every sh.o.r.e and sound Erewhile on board a squadron, landed here; And the isle so rugged and so rocky found, In all its parts so mountainous and drear, There is not (through the land) a level s.p.a.ce (He says) whereon a single boot to place.

XXI Nor deems he likely, that six cavaliers, The wide world's flower, on Alpine rock should vye, In that equestrian fight, with levelled spears.

To whose objection thus I make reply: Erewhile a place, well fit for such careers, Stretched at the bottom of the hills did lie; But afterwards, o'erthrown by earthquake's shock, A cliff o'erspread the plain with broken rock.

XXII So, of Fulgoso's race thou s.h.i.+ning ray, Clear, lasting light, if, questioning my word, Thou on this point hast ever said me nay, And haply too, before the unconquered lord, Through whom thy land, reposing, casts away All haste, and wholly leans to kind accord, Prythee delay not to declare, that I In this my story haply tell no lie.

XXIII Meanwhile his eyes the good Orlando reared, And saw, on turning them to seaward, where Under full sail a nimble bark appeared, As if she to that island would repair.

I will not now rehea.r.s.e who thither steered; For more than one awaiteth me elsewhere.

Wend me to France and see if they be glad At having chased the Saracens, or sad;

XXIV See what she does withal, the lady true, That sees her knight content to wend so wide; Of the afflicted Bradamant I shew; After she saw the oath was nullified, Made in the hearing of those armies two, Upon the Christian and the paynim side; Since he again had failed her, there was nought Wherein she could confide, the damsel thought.

XXV And now her too accustomed plaint and wail Repeating, of Rogero's cruelty Fair Bradamant renewed the wonted tale; She cursed her hard and evil destiny; Then loosening to tempestuous grief the sail, Heaven that consented to such perjury, -- And did not yet by some plain token speak -- She, in her pa.s.sion, called unjust and weak.

XXVI The sage Melissa she accused, and cursed The oracle of the cavern, through whose lie She in that sea of love herself immersed, Upon whose waters she embarked to die.

She to Marphisa afterwards rehea.r.s.ed Her woes, and told her brother's perfidy; She chides, pours forth her sorrows, and demands, With tears and outcries, succour at her hands.

XXVII Marphisa shrugs her shoulders; what alone She can, she offers -- comfort to the fair; Nor thinks Rogero her has so foregone But what to her he shortly will repair.

And, should he not, such outrage to be done, The damsel plights her promise not to bear; Twixt her and him shall deadly war be waged, Or he shall keep the word, which he engaged.

XXVIII She makes her somewhat thus her grief restrain; Which having vent in some sort spend its gall, Now we have seen the damsel in her pain Rogero impious, proud, and perjured call, See we, if in a happier state remain The brother of that gentle maid withal; Whose flesh, bones, nerves, and sinews are a prey To burning love; Rinaldo I would say.

XXIX I say Rinaldo that (as known to you) Angelica the beauteous loved so well: Nor him into the amorous fillets drew So much her beauty as the magic spell.

In peace reposed those other barons true; For wholly broken was the infidel: Alone amid the victors, he, of all The paladins, remained Love's captive thrall.

x.x.x To seek her he a hundred couriers sent, And sought as well, himself, the missing maid: He in the end to Malagigi went, Who in his need had often given him aid: To him he told his love, with eyelids bent On earth, and visage crimsoned o'er; and prayed That sage magicians to instruct him, where He in the world might find the long-sought fair.

x.x.xI A case, so strange and wondrous, marvel sore In friendly Malagigi's bosom bred: The wizard knew, a hundred times and more, He might have had the damsel in his bed; And he himself, to move the knight or yore, In her behalf, enough had done and said: Had him by prayer and menace sought to bend, Yet ne'er was able to obtain his end;

x.x.xII And so much more, that out of prison ward He then would Malagigi so have brought.

Now will he seek her, of his own accord, On less occasion, when it profits nought.

Next that magician Montalbano's lord To mark how sorely do had erred, besought: Since little lacked, but through the boon denied, Erewhile he had in gloomy dungeon died.

x.x.xIII But how much more Rinaldo's strange demand Sounded importunately in his ear, So by sure index Malagigi scanned, That so much was Angelica more dear.

Rinaldo prayer unable to withstand, In ocean sunk the wizard cavalier All memory of old injury a.s.said, And bowned himself to give the warrior aid.

x.x.xIV For his reply he craved some small delay, And with fair hope consoled Mount Alban's knight, He should be able of the road to say By which Angelica had sped her flight, In France or wheresoe'er; then wends his way Thither where he is wont his imps to cite; A grot impervious and with mountains walled: His book he opened and the spirits called.

x.x.xV Then one he chooses, in love-cases read, Whom Malagigi to declare requires, How good Rinaldo's heart, before so died, Was now so quickly moved by soft desires; And of those fountains twain (the demon said) Whereof one lights, one quenches amorous fires; And how nought cures the mischief caused by one But that whose streams in counter current run;

x.x.xVI And says, Rinaldo, having drunk whilere From the love-chasing fountain's mossy urn, To Angelica, that long had wooed the peer, Had shown himself so obstinate and stern; And he, whom after his ill star did steer To drink of that which makes the bosom burn, Her whom but just before he loathed above All reason, by that draught was forced to love.

x.x.xVII Him his ill star and cruel fate conveyed To swallow fire and flame i' the frozen lake: For nigh at the same time the Indian maid In the other bitter stream her thirst did slake; Which in her bosom so all love allayed, Henceforth she loathed him more than noisome snake; He loved her, and such love was his, as late Rinaldo bore her enmity and hate.

x.x.xVIII Of this strange story fully certified Was Malagigi by the demon's lore; Who news as well of Angelique supplied; How yielding up herself to a young Moor, With him embarking on the unstable tide, She had abandoned Europe's every sh.o.r.e; And hoisting her bold canvas to the wind, In Catalonian galley loosed for Ind.

x.x.xIX Rinaldo seeking out the sage anew For his reply -- he would dissuade the knight From loving more that Indian lady, who Now waited on a vile barbarian wight; And was so distant he could ill pursue; If he would chase the damsel on her flight, Who must have measured than half her way Homeward, with young Medoro to Catay.

XL In that bold lover no displeasure deep The journey of Angelica would move; Nor yet would mar or break the warrior's sleep To think that he again must eastward rove: But that a stripling Saracen should reap The first fruits of that faithless lady's love In him such pa.s.sion bred, such heart-ache sore, He never in his life so grieved before.

XLI No power hath he to make one sole reply; His heart, his lip, is quivering with disdain; His tongue no word is able to untie; His mouth is bitter, and 'twould seem with bane.

He flung from the magician suddenly, And, as by fury stirred and jealous pain, He after mighty plaint and mighty woe Resolved anew to eastern realms to go.

XLII Licence he asks of Pepin's royal son, Upon the ground, since with his courser dear To Sericane is King Grada.s.so gone, Against the use of gallant cavalier, Him honour moves the selfsame course to run, In the end he may prevent the paynim peer From ever vaunting, that with sword or lance He took him from a Paladin of France.

XLIII Charles gives him leave to go; though, far and nigh, With him all France laments he thence should wend; But he in fine that prayer can ill deny, So honest seems the worthy warrior's end.

Him Dudon, Guido, would accompany; But he refuses either valiant friend: From Paris he departs, and wends alone, Plunged in his grief and heaving many a groan.

XLIV Ever in memory dwells the restless thought, He might a thousand times have had the fair; And -- mad and obstinate -- had, when besought, A thousand times refused such beauty rare; And such sweet joy was whilom set at nought, Such bright, such blessed moments wasted were; And now he life would gladly give away To have that damsel but for one short day.

XLV The thought will never from his mind depart, How for a sorry footpage she could slight, -- Flinging their merit and their love apart -- The service of each former loving wight.

Vext by such thought, which racked and rent his heart, Rinaldo wends towards the rising light: He the straight road to Rhine and Basle pursued, Till he arrived in Arden's mighty wood.

XLVI When within that adventurous wood has hied For many a mile Montalban's cavalier, Of lonely farm or lordly castle wide, Where the rude place was roughest and most drear, The sky disturbed he suddenly descried, He saw the sun's dimmed visage disappear, And spied forth issuing from a cavern h.o.a.r A monster, which a woman's likeness wore.

XLVII A thousand lidless eyes are in her head: She cannot close them, nor, I think, doth sleep: She listens with as many ears, and spread Like hair, about her forehead serpents creep.

Forth issued into day that figure dread From devilish darkness and the caverned deep.

For tail, a fierce and bigger serpent wound About her breast, and girt the monster round.

XLVIII What in a thousand, thousand quests had ne'er Befal'n Rinaldo, here befel the knight; Who, when he sees the horrid form appear, Coming to seek him and prepared for fight, Feels in his inmost veins such freezing fear, As haply never fell on other wight; Yet wonted daring counterfeits and feigns, And with a trembling hand the faulchion strains.

XLIX The monster so the fierce a.s.sault did make Therein her master was well descried, It might be said; she shook a poisonous snake, And now on this, now on the other side, Leapt at the knight; at her Rinaldo strake Ever meanwhile with random blows and wide; With forestroke, backstroke, he a.s.sails the foe; He often smites, but never plants a blow.

L The monster threw a serpent at his breast, That froze his heart beneath its iron case: Now through the vizor flung the poisonous pest, Which crept about his collar and his face.

Dismaid, Rinaldo fled the field, and prest With all his spurs his courser through the chase: But not behind the h.e.l.lish monster halts, Who in a thought upon the crupper vaults.

LI Wend where the warrior will, an-end or wide, Ever with him is that accursed Pest: Nor knows he how from her to be untied, Albeit his courser plunges without rest.

Like a leaf quakes his heart within his side, Not that the snakes in other mode molest, But they such horror and such loathing bred, He shrieks, he groans, and gladly would be dead.

LII By gloomiest track and blindest path he still Threaded the tangled forest here and there; By th.o.r.n.i.e.s.t valley and by roughest hill, And wheresoever darkest was the air; Thus hoping to have rid him of that ill, Hideous, abominable, poisonous Care; Beneath whose gripe he foully might have fared, But that one quickly to his aid repaired.

LIII But aid, and in good time, a horseman bore, Equipt with arms of beauteous steel and clear: For crest, a broken yoke the stranger wore; Red flames upon his yellow s.h.i.+eld appear: So was the courser's housing broidered o'er, As the proud surcoat of the cavalier.

His lance he grasped, his sword was in its place, And at his saddle hung a burning mace.

LIV That warrior's mace a fire eternal fills, Whose lasting fuel ever blazes bright; And goodly buckler, tempered corslet thrills, And solid helm; then needs the approaching knight Must make him way, wherever 'tis his will To turn his inextinguishable light.

Nor of less help in need Rinaldo stands, To save him from the cruel monster's hands.

LV The stranger horseman, like a warrior bold, Where he that hubbub hears, doth thither swoop, Until he sees the beast, whose snakes enfold Rinaldo, linked in many a loathsome loop, Who sweats at once with heat and quakes with cold, Nor can he thrust the monster from his croup.

Arrived the stranger smote her in the flank, Who on the near side of the courser sank:

LVI But scarcely was on earth extended, ere She rose and shook her snakes in volumed spire.

The knight no more a.s.sails her with the spear; But is resolved to plague the foe with fire: He gripes the mace and thunders in her rear With frequent blows, like tempest in its ire; Nor leaves a moment to that monster fell To strike one stroke in answer, ill or well;

LVII And, while he chases her or holds at bay, Smites her and venges many a foul affront, Counsels the paladin, without delay, To take the road which scales the neighbouring mount: He took that proffered counsel and that way, And without stop, or turning back his front, p.r.i.c.ked furiously till he was out of sight; Though hard to clamber was the rugged height.

LVIII The stranger, when he to her dark retreat Had driven from upper light that beast of h.e.l.l (Where she herself doth ever gnaw and eat, While from her thousand eyes tears ceaseless well) Followed the knight, to guide his wandering feet; And overtook him on the highest swell; Then placed himself beside the cavalier Him from those dark and gloomy parts to steer.

LIX When him returned beheld Montalban's knight, That countless thanks were due to him, he said, And that at all times, as a debt of right, His life should be for his advantage paid.