XXV This saker, culverine, or falcon hight, I hear (all names the inventor has bestowed); Which splits or shivers steel and stone outright, And, where the bullet pa.s.ses, makes a road.

-- Down to the sword, restore thy weapons bright, Sad soldier, to the forge, a useless load; And gun or carbine on thy shoulder lay, Who without these, I wot, shalt touch no pay.

XXVI How, foul and pestilent discovery, Didst thou find place within the human heart?

Through thee is martial glory lost, through thee The trade of arms became a worthless art: And at such ebb are worth and chivalry, That the base often plays the better part.

Through thee no more shall gallantry, no more Shall valour prove their prowess as of yore.

XXVII Through thee, alas! are dead, or have to die, So many n.o.ble lords and cavaliers Before this war shall end, which, Italy Afflicting most, has drowned the world in tears, That, if I said the word, I err not, I, Saying he sure the cruellest appears And worst, of nature's impious and malign, Who did this hateful engine first design:

XXVIII And I shall think, in order to pursue The sin for ever, G.o.d has doomed to h.e.l.l That cursed soul, amid the unhappy crew, Beside the accursed Judas there to dwell.

But follow we the good Orlando, who So burns to seek Ebuda's island fell, Whose foul inhabitants a monster sate With flesh of women, fair and delicate.

XXIX But no less slow than eager was the knight: The winds appear, which still his course delay; Who, whether blowing on the left or right, Or p.o.o.p, so faintly in his canvas play, His bark makes little speed; and, spent outright, The breeze which wafts her sometimes dies away, Or blows so foul, that he is fain to steer Another course, or to the leeward veer.

x.x.x It was the will of Heaven that he, before The King of Ireland, should not reach the land, The he with greater ease upon that sh.o.r.e Might act what shortly you shall understand.

"Make for the isle. Now" (said he) "may'st thou moor,"

(Thus issuing to the pilot his command), "And give me for my need the skiff; for I Will to the rock without more company.

x.x.xI "The biggest cable that thou hast aboard, And biggest anchor to my hands consign; Thou shalt perceive why thus my boat is stored, If I but meet that monster of the brine."

He bade them lower the pinnace overboard, With all things that befitted his design: His arms he left behind, except his blade, And singly for the rocky island made.

x.x.xII Home to his breast the count pulls either oar, With the island at his back, to which he wends, In guise that, crawling up the sandy sh.o.r.e, The crooked crab from sea or marsh ascends.

It was the hour Aurora gay before The rising sun her yellow hair extends (His...o...b..as yet half-seen, half-hid from sight) Not without stirring jealous t.i.thon's spite.

x.x.xIII Approaching to the naked rock as near As vigorous hand might serve to cast a stone, He knew not if he heard, or did not hear A cry, so faint and feeble was the moan.

When, turning to the left, the cavalier, His level sight along the water thrown, Naked as born, bound to a stump, espied A dame whose feet were wetted by the tide.

x.x.xIV Because she distant is, and evermore Holds down her face, he ill can her discern: Both sculls he pulls amain, and nears the sh.o.r.e, With keen desire more certain news to learn: But now the winding beach is heard to roar, And wood and cave the mighty noise return; The billows swell, and, lo! the beast! who pressed, And nigh concealed the sea beneath his breast.

x.x.xV As cloud from humid vale is seen to rise, Pregnant with rain and storm, which seems withal To extinguished day, and charged with deeper dyes Than night, to spread throughout this earthly ball, So swims the beast, who so much occupies Of sea, he may be said to keep it all.

Waves roar: collected in himself, the peer Looks proudly on, unchanged in heart and cheer.

x.x.xVI He, as one well resolved in his intent, Moved quickly to perform the feat he planned; And, for he would the damsel's harm prevent, And would with that a.s.sail the beast at hand, Between her and the orc the boat he sent, Leaving within the sheath his idle brand, Anchor and cable next he takes in hold, And waits the foe with constant heart and bold.

x.x.xVII As soon as him the monster has descried, And skiff at little interval, his throat The fish, to swallow him, expands so wide, That horse and horseman through his jaws might float.

Here Roland with the anchor, and beside (Unless I am mistaken) with the boat Plunged, and engulphed the parted teeth betwixt, His anchor in the tongue and palate fixt;

x.x.xVIII So that the monster could no longer drop Or raise his horrid jaws, which this extends.

'Tis thus who digs the mine is wont to prop The ground, and where he works the roof suspends, Lest sudden ruin whelm him from atop, While he incautiously his task intends.

Roland (so far apart was either hook) But by a leap could reach the highest crook.

x.x.xIX The prop so placed, Orlando now secure That the fell beast his mouth no more can close, Unsheathes his sword, and, in that cave obscure, Deals here and there, now thrusts, now trenchant blows.

As well as citadel, whose walls immure The a.s.sailants, can defend her from her foes, The monster, hara.s.sed by the war within, Defends himself against the Paladin.

XL Now floats the monstrous beast, o'ercome with pain, Whose scaly flanks upon the waves expand; And now descends into the deepest main, Scowers at the bottom, and stirs up the sand.

The rising flood ill able to sustain, The cavalier swims forth, and makes for land.

He leaves the anchor fastened in his tongue, And grasps the rope which from the anchor hung.

XLI So swimming till the island is attained, With this towards the rock Orlando speeds: He hawls the anchor home (a footing gained), p.r.i.c.ked by whose double fluke, the monster bleeds.

The labouring orc to follow is constrained, Dragged by that force which every force exceeds; Which at a single sally more achieves Than at ten turns the circling windla.s.s heaves.

XLII As a wild bull, about whose horn is wound The unexpected noose, leaps here and there, When he has felt the cord, and turns him round, And rolls and rises, yet slips not the snare; So from his pleasant seat and ancient bound, Dragged by that arm and rope he cannot tear, With thousands of strange wheels and thousand slides, The monster follows where the cable guides.

XLIII This the red sea with reason would be hight To-day, such streams of blood have changed its hue; And where the monster lashed it in his spite, The eye its bottom through the waves might view.

And now he splashed the sky, and dimmed the light Of the clear sun, so high the water flew.

The noise re-echoing round, the distant sh.o.r.e And wood and hill rebound the deafening roar.

XLIV Forth from his grotto aged Proteus hies, And mounts above the surface at the sound; And having seen Orlando dive, and rise From the orc, and drag the monstrous fish to ground, His scattered flock forgot, o'er ocean flies; While so the din increases, that, astound, Neptune bids yoke his dolphins, and that day For distant Aethiopia posts away.

XLV With Melicerta on her shoulders, weeping Ino, and Nereids with dishevelled hair, The Glauci, Tritons, and their fellows, leaping They know not whither, speed, some here, some there.

Orlando draws to land, the billows sweeping, That horrid fish, but might his labour spare: For, with the torment worn, and travel sore, The brute, exhausted, died, ere dragged ash.o.r.e.

XLVI Of the islanders had trooped no petty throng, To witness that strange fight, who by a vain And miserable superst.i.tion stung, Esteemed such holy deed a work profane; And said that this would be another wrong To Proteus, and provoke his ire again; Make him his herds pour forth upon the strand, And with the whole old warfare vex the land;

XLVII And that it better were to sue for peace, First from the injured G.o.d, lest worse ensue; And Proteus from his cruel hate would cease, If they into the sea the offender threw.

As torch to torch gives fire, and lights increase, Until the flame is spread the country through, Even so from heart to heart the fury spread, Which in the waves would doom Orlando dead.

XLVIII These, armed with sling or bow, upon the sh.o.r.e, And these supplied with spear or sword descend; And on each side, behind him and before, Distant and near, as best they can, offend.

At such a brutal insult wonders sore The peer, who sees that mischief they intend, In vengeance for the cruel monster slain, Whence he had glory hoped, and praise to gain.

XLIX But as the usage is of surly bear, By st.u.r.dy Russ or Lithuanian led, Little to heed the dogs in crowded fair, Nor even at their yelps to turn his head, The clamour of the churls a.s.sembled there Orlando witnessed with as little dread; Who knew that he the rout which threatened death, Had power to scatter at a single breath:

L And speedily he made them yield him place, When turned on them, he grasped his trenchant blade.

Misjudging of his worth, the foolish race Deemed that he would have short resistance made; Since him they saw no covering buckler brace, Uncuira.s.sed, nor in other arms arrayed; But knew not that, from head to foot, a skin More hard than diamond cased the Paladin.

LI What by Orlando others cannot do, The knight by others can; at half a score Of blows in all he thirty killed; by few He pa.s.sed that measure, if the strokes were more: And had already turned him to undo The naked lady, having cleared the sh.o.r.e, When other larum sounds, and other cries From a new quarter of the island rise.

LII While so the Paladin had kept in play The barbarous islanders, upon that hand, The men of Ireland, without let or fray, Had poured from many quarters on the strand: And now, without remorse or pity, slay The inhabitants, through all the wasted land; And, was it justice moved, or cruel rage, Slaughter without regard to s.e.x or age.

LIII Little or no defender the island-crew Attempt; in part as taken unaware, In part that in the little place are few, And that those few without a purpose are.

'Mid sack and fire, the wasted country through, The islanders are slain, and everwhere The walls are upon earth in ruin spread, Nor in the land is left a living head.

LIV As if the mighty tumult which he hears, And shriek and ruin had concerned him nought, The naked rock the bold Orlando nears, Where she was placed, to feed the monster brought.

He looks, and known to him the dame appears, And more appears, when nigher her he sought: Olympia she appears, and is indeed Olympia, whose faith reaped so ill a meed.

LV Wretched Olympia; whom, beside the scorn Which Love put on her, Fortune too pursued, Who sent the corsairs fell, which her had born That very day to the island of Ebude.

She Roland recollects on his return Landward; but, for the damsel naked stood, Not only nought she to the warrior said, But dared not raise her eyes, and dropt her head.

LVI Orlando asks what evil destiny Her to that cruel island had conveyed From where she in as much felicity Was with her consort left as could be said: "I know not (cried the weeping dame) if I Have thanks to render thee for death delayed, Or should lament me that, through means of thee, This day did not my woes concluded see.

LVII "I have to thank thee that from death, too dread And monstrous, thy good arm deliverance gave; Which would have been too monstrous, had I fed The beast, and in his belly found a grave: But cannot thank thee that I am not dead, Since death alone can me from misery save, Well shall I thank thee for that wished relief, Which can deliver me from every grief."

LVIII Next she related, with loud sobs and sighs, How her false spouse betrayed her as she lay Asleep, and how of pirates made the prize, They bore her from the desert isle away.

And, as she spake, she turned her in the guise Of Dian, framed by artists, who pourtray Her carved or painted, as in liquid font She threw the water in Actaeon's front.

LIX For, as she can, her waist she hides, and breast, More liberal of flowing flank and reins.

Roland desires his ship, to find a vest To cover her, delivered from her chains: While he is all intent upon this quest, Oberto comes; Oberto, he that reigns O'er Ireland's people, who had understood How lifeless lay the monster of the flood;

LX And, swimming, how, amid the watery roar, A knight a weighty anchor in his throat Had fix'd, and so had dragged him to the sh.o.r.e, As men against the current track a boat.