To Olivier, too forward in that fight, He dealt so furious and so fell a wound, With his clenched fist, that pale the marquis fell; And purple streams from eyes and nostrils well;

LI And save his morion had been more than good, Bold Olivier had breathed his last, who lies, So battered with his fall, it seemed he wou'd Bequeath his parting soul to paradise.

Astolpho and Dudon, that again upstood (Albeit swoln were Dudon's face and eyes) And Sansonet, who plied so well his sword, All made together at Anglantes' lord.

LII Dudon Orlando from behind embraced, And with his foot the furious peer would throw: Astolpho and others seize his arms; but waste Their strength in all attempts to hold the foe.

He who has seen a bull, by mastiffs chased That gore his bleeding ears, in fury lowe, Dragging the dogs that bait him there and here, Yet from their tusks unable to get clear;

LIII Let him imagine, so Orlando drew Astolpho and those banded knights along.

Meanwhile upstarted Oliviero, who By that fell fistycuff on earth was flung; And, seeing they could ill by Roland do That sought by good Astolpho and his throng, He meditates, and compa.s.ses, a way The frantic paladin on earth to lay.

LIV He many a hawser made them thither bring, And running knots in them he quickly tied; Which on the count's waist, arms, and legs, they fling; And then, among themselves, the ends divide, Conveyed to this or that amid the ring, Compa.s.sing Roland upon every side.

The warriors thus Orlando flung parforce, As farrier throws the struggling ox or horse.

LV As soon as down, they all upon him are, And hands and feet more tightly they constrain: He shakes himself, and plunges here and there; But all his efforts for relief are vain.

Astolpho bade them hence the prisoner bear; For he would heal (he said) the warrior's brain.

Shouldered by st.u.r.dy Dudon is the load, And on the beach's furthest brink bestowed.

LVI Seven times Astolpho makes them wash the knight; And seven times plunged beneath the brine he goes.

So that they cleanse away the scurf and blight, Which to his stupid limbs and visage grows.

This done, with herbs, for that occasion dight, They stop his mouth, wherewith he puffs and blows.

For, save his nostrils, would Astolpho leave No pa.s.sage whence the count might air receive.

LVII Valiant Astolpho had prepared the vase, Wherein Orlando's senses were contained, And to his nostrils in such mode conveys, That, drawing-in his breath, the county drained The mystic cup withal. Oh wondrous case!

The unsettled mind its ancient seat regained; And, in its glorious reasonings, yet more clear And lucid waxed his wisdom than whilere.

LVIII As one, that seems in troubled sleep to see Abominable shapes, a horrid crew; Monsters which are not, and which cannot be; Or seems some strange, unlawful thing to do, Yet marvels at himself, from slumber free.

When his recovered senses play him true; So good Orlando, when he is made sound, Remains yet full of wonder, and astound.

LIX Aldabelle's brother, Monodantes' son, And him that on his brain such cure had wrought, He wondering marked, but word he spake to none; And when and how he was brought thither, thought.

He turned his restless eyes now up now down, Nor where he was withal, imagined aught, Marvelling why he there was naked cast, And wherefore tethered, neck and heels, so fast.

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

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

What he through love had lost, to reacquire Was his whole study, was his whole desire.

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

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

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

LXV The order taken to attack the town Of huge Biserta, when, and on what side; How, at the first a.s.sault, the walls are won, And with Orlando who the palm divide, Lament not that I now shall leave unshown, Since for short time I lay my tale aside.

In the meanwhile, how fierce an overthrow The Moors received in France, be pleased to know.

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

LXVII Yet royal Agramant the fight maintains; But when he can no longer make a stand, Turns from the combat, and directly strains For Arles, not far remote, upon the strand.

Him Rabican pursues, with flowing reins, Whom Aymon's daughter drives with heel and hand.

Him would she slay, through whom so often crost, That martial maid had her Rogero lost.

LXVIII Marphisa by the same desire was stirred, Who had her thoughts on tardy vengeance placed, For her dead sire; and as she fiercely spurred, Made her hot courser feel his rider's haste.

But neither martial maid, amid that herd Of flying Moors, so well the monarch chased, As to o'ertake him in his swift retreat, First into Arles, and then aboard his fleet.

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

LXX Yet therefore halt not, but in fury go Amid that crowd, which flies, possest with dread; Feeling, now here, now there, at every blow, Many that never more uprear their head.

To evil pa.s.s was brought the broken foe; For safety was not even for them that fled: Since Agramant, a sure retreat to gain, Bade shut the city-gate which faced the plain;

LXXI And bade on Rhone break all the bridges down.

Unhappy people, ever held as cheap -- Weighed with the tyrant's want who wears a crown -- As worthless herd of goats or silly sheep!

These in the sea, those in the river drown; And those with blood the thirsty fallows steep.

The Franks few prisoners made, and many slew; For ransom in that battle was for few.

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

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

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

LXXV King Agramant his sails for Africk bent: His barks ill-armed and almost empty go; Empty of men, but full of discontent, In that three-fourths had perished by the foe.

As cruel some, as weak and proud some shent Their king, and (as still happens in like woe) All hate him privily; but, for they fear His fury, in his presence mute appear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Lx.x.xVI This vainly to the sea resorts, whom spear Or hatchet, brandished close at hand, dismay; For stone or arrow following in his rear, Permit the craven to make little way.

But haply, while it yet delights your ear, 'Twere well and wisely done to end my lay, Rather than harp upon the theme so long As to annoy you with a tedious song.

CANTO 40