XXII I say, enclosed in skins that wind he gave, Which in such fury blows at noon, on high I moves the shifting plain in many a wave, And fills the eddying sand the troubled sky, To carry with them, and from scathe to save Their squadrons, lest the dusty whirlwind fly; And bids them, when arrived at home, unnoose The bladder's vent, and let their prisoners loose.

XXIII When they have lofty Atlas pa.s.ses won, The horses that the Nubian riders bear, Turpin relates, are changed at once to stone; So that the steeds return to what they were.

But it is time the Duke to France was gone; Who having thus provided, in his care, For the main places in the Moorish land, Made the hippogryph anew his wings expand;

XXIV He reached Sardinia at one flight and shear, Corsica from Sardinia; and then o'er The foaming sea his venturous course did steer, Inclining somewhat left the griffin's soar.

In the sea-marshes last his light career He stopt, on rich Provence's pleasant sh.o.r.e: Where to the hyppogryph by him is done What was erewhile enjoined by sainted John.

XXV To him the charge did sainted John commit, When to Provence by that winged courser borne, Him nevermore with saddle or with bit To gall, but let him to his lair return.

Already had the planet, whither flit Things lost on earth, of sound deprived his horn: For this not only hoa.r.s.e but mute remained, As soon as the holy place Astolpho gained.

XXVI Thence to Ma.r.s.eilles he came; and came the day Orlando, and Rinaldo, and Olivier Arrived therein, upon their homeward way, With good Sobrino, and the better peer, Rogero: not so triumphs that array, Touched by the death of him, their comrade dear, As they for such a glorious victory won -- But for that sad disaster -- would have done.

XXVII Of the kings slain upon the paynim part, The news from Sicily to Charles were blown, Sobrino's fate, and death of Brandimart; Nor less of good Rogero had been shown.

Charles stood with jocund fate and gladsome heart, Rejoicing he had from his shoulders thrown The intolerable load whereof the weight Will for long time prevent his standing straight.

XXVIII To honour those fair pillars that sustain The state -- the holy empire's corner-stone -- The n.o.bles of his kingdom Charlemagne Dispatched, to meet the knights, as far as Saone; And from his city with his worthiest train, King, duke, and her, the partner of his throne, Issued amid a fair and gorgeous band Of n.o.ble damsels, upon either hand.

XXIX The emperor Charles with bright and cheerful brow, Lords, paladins and people, kinsmen, friends, Fair love to Roland and the others show.

Mongrana and Clermont's cry the welkin rends.

No sooner, mid that kind and festal show, The interchange of fond embracements ends, Than Roland and his friends Rogero bring, And mid those lords present him to the king;

x.x.x And him Rogero of Risa's son declare, And vouch in valour as his father's peer, "Witnesses of his worth our squadrons are, They best can tell his prowess with the spear."

Meanwhile, the n.o.ble and the lovely pair, Marphisa and gentle Bradamant appear.

This runs to fold Rogero to her heart; More coy, that other stands somedeal apart.

x.x.xI The emperor bids Rogero mount again, Who from his horse had lit, in reverence due; And, side by side, with him his courser rein; Nor aught omits that monarch which may do The warrior honour, mid his martial train: How the true faith he had embraced he knew; Of all instructed by that band before; When first those paladins set foot ash.o.r.e.

x.x.xII With pomp triumphal and with festive cheer The troop returns within the city-walls: With leaves and garlands green the streets appear, And tapestried all about with gorgeous palls.

Of herbs and flowers a mingled rain, where'er They wend, upon the conquering squadron falls, Which with full hands from stand and window throw Damsel and dame upon the knights below.

x.x.xIII At every turn, in various places are, Of sudden structure arch and trophy high, Whereon Biserta's sack is painted fair, Ruin and fire, and feat of chivalry: Scaffolds, upraised for different sports elsewhere And merrimake and stage-play meet the eye; And, writ with truth, above, below, between, To THE EMPIRE'S SAVIOURS, everywhere is seen.

x.x.xIV With sound of shrilling pipe and trumpet proud, And other festive music, laughter light, Applause and favour of the following crowd, Which scarce found room, begirt with dames and knight, The mighty emperor, mid those greetings loud.

Before the royal palace did alight: Where many days he feasted high in hall His lords, mid tourney, mummery, mask and ball.

x.x.xV His son to Aymon on a day made known His sister he would make Rogero's bride; And, before Olivier and Milo's son, Her to the Child by promise had affied; Who think with him that kindred is there none Wherewith to league themselves, on any side, For valour or n.o.bility of blood, Better than his; nay, none so pa.s.sing good.

x.x.xVI Duke Aymon heard his heir with some disdain; That, without concert with him, and alone He dared to plight his daughter, whom he fain Would marry to the Grecian emperor's son; And not to him that has no kingly reign, Nay has not ought that he can call his own; And should not know, how little n.o.bleness Is valued without wealth; how virtue less.

x.x.xVII But Beatrice, his wife, with more despite Arraigns her son, and calls him arrogant; And moves each open way and hidden sleight To break Rogero's match with Bradamant; Resolved to tax her every means and might To make her empress of the wide Levant.

Firm in his purpose is Montalban's lord, Nor will in ought forego his plighted word.

x.x.xVIII Beatrice who believes the highminded fair Is at her hest, exhorts her to reply, Rather than she will be constrained to pair With a poor knight, she is resolved to die; Nor, if this wrong she from Rinaldo bear Will she regard her with a mother's eye: Let her refuse and keep her stedfast course; For her free will Rinaldo cannot force.

x.x.xIX Silent stands mournful Bradamant, nor dares Meanwhile her lady-mother's speech gainsay; To whom such reverence, and respect, she bears, She thinks no choice is left but to obey.

Yet a foul fault it in her eyes appears, If what she will not do, she falsely say: She will not, for she cannot; since above All guidance, great or small, is mighty Love.

XL Deny she dared not, nor yet seem content; So, sighed and spake not; but -- when uncontrolled She could -- she gave her secret sorrow vent, While from her eyes the tears like billows rolled; A portion of the pains that her torment, Inflicting on her breast and locks of gold: For this she beat, and those uptore and brake; And thus she made lament, and thus she spake.

XLI "Ah! shall I will what she wills not, by right More sovereign mistress of my will than I?

Hers shall I hold so cheaply, so to slight A mother's will, my own to satisfy?

Alas! what blemish is so foul to sight In damsel? What so ill, as to affy Myself to husband, reckless of her will, Which 'tis my duty ever to fulfil?

XLII "Wo worth the while! and shall I then to thee By filial love be forced to be untrue, O my Rogero, and surrender me To a new hope, a new love, and a new Desire; or rather from those ties break free, From all good children to good parents due; Observance, reverence cast aside; and measure My duty by my happiness, my pleasure?

XLIII "I know, alas! what I should do; I know That which a duteous daughter doth behove; I know; but what avails it, if not so My reason moves me as my senses move; If she retires before a stronger foe; Nor can I of myself dispose, for Love; Nor think how to dispose; so strict his sway; Nor, saving as he dictates, do and say?

XLIV "Aymon and Beatrice's child, the slave Of Love am I; ah! miserable me!

I from my parents am in hope to have Pardon and pity, if in fault I be: But, if I anger Love, whose prayer shall save Me from his fury, till one only plea, Of mine the G.o.dhead shall vouchsafe to hear; Nor doom me dead as soon as I appear?

XLV "Alas! with long and obstinate pursuit, To our faith to draw Rogero have I wrought; And finally have drawn; but with what boot, If my fair deed for other's good be wrought?

So yearly by the bee, whose labour's fruit Is lost for her, is hive with honey fraught.

But I will die ere I the Child forsake, And other husband than Rogero take.

XLVI "If I shall not obey my father's hest, Nor mothers, I my brother's shall obey, Of greater wisdom far than them possest; Nor Time hath made that warrior's wit his prey; And what he wills by Roland is profest; And, one and the other, on my side are they; A pair more feared and honoured far and wide Than all the members of my house beside.

XLVII "If them the flower of Clermont's n.o.ble tree, The glory and the splendor all account; If all believe our other chivalry They, more than head o'ertops the foot, surmount; Why would I Aymon should dispose of me, Rather than good Rinaldo and the Count?

I should not; so much less, as not affied To Leo, and Rogero's promised bride."

XLVIII If cruel thoughts the afflicted maid torment, Rogero's mind enjoys not more repose; For albeit those sad tidings have not vent Yet in the city, he the secret knows.

He o'er his humble fortunes makes lament Which his enjoying such a good oppose; As unendowed with riches or with reign, Dispensed so widely to a worthless train.

XLIX Of other goods which Nature's hand supplies, Or which acquired by man's own study are, He such a portion in himself espies, Such and so large was never other's share: In that, no beauty with his beauty vies; In that, resistance to his might is rare.

The palm by none from him can challenged be, In regal splendour, magnanimity.

L But they at whose disposal honours lie, Who give at will, and take away renown; The vulgar herd; and from the vulgar I, Except the prudent man, distinguished none; Nor emperor, pope, nor king, is raised more high Than these by sceptre, mitre, or by crown, Nor save by prudence; save by judgement, given But to the favoured few by partial Heaven;

LI This vulgar (to say out what I would say) Which only honours wealth, therewith more smit Than any worldly thing beside, nor they Aught heed or aught esteem, ungraced with it, Be beauty or be daring what it may, Dexterity or prowess, worth, or wit, Or goodness -- yet more vulgar stands confest In that whereof I speak than in the rest.

LII Rogero said: "If Aymon is disposed An empress in his Bradamant to see, Let not his treaty be so quickly closed With Leo; let a year be granted me: In that, meanwhile, I hope, by me deposed Shall Leo with his royal father be, And I, encircled with their forfeit crown, Shall be for Aymon no unworthy son.

LIII "But if he give without delay, as said, His daughter to the son of Constantine, If to that promise no regard be paid, Which good Rinaldo and the paladine, His cousin, erst before the hermit made, The Marquis Olivier and King Sobrine, What shall I do? such grievous wrong shall I Endure, or, rather than endure it, die?

LIV "What shall I do? her father then pursue, On whom for vengeance this grave outrage cries?

I heed not that the deed is hard to do, Or if the attempt in me is weak or wise: -- But presuppose that, with his kindred crew Slain by my hand that unjust elder dies; This will in nothing further my content; Nay it will wholly frustrate my intent.

LV " 'Twas ever my intent, and still 'tis so To have the love, not hatred, of that fair; But should I Aymon slay, or bring some woe By plot or practice, on his house or heir, Will she not justly hold me as her foe, And me, that foeman, as her lord forswear?

What shall I do, endure such injury?

Ah! no, by Heaven! far rather I will die.

LVI "Nay die I will not; but with better right Shall Leo die, who so disturbs my joy; He and his unjust sire; less dear his flight With Helen paid her paramour of Troy; Nor yet in older time that foul despite, Done to Proserpina, cost such annoy To bold Pirithous, as for her I've lost My grief of heart shall son and father cost.

LVII "Can it be true, my life, that to forsake Thy champion for this Greek should grieve not thee?

And could thy father force thee him to take, Though joined thy brethren with thy sire should be?

But 'tis my fear that thou would'st rather make Accord withal with Aymon than with me; And that it seemeth better in thy sight To wed with Caesar than with simple wight.

LVIII "Can it be true that royal name should blind, Imperial t.i.tle, pomp and majesty, And taint my Bradamant's egregious mind, Her mighty valour and her virtue high, So that, as cheaper, she should cast behind Her plighted faith, and from her promise fly?

Nor sooner she a foe to Love be made, Than she no longer say, what once she said?"