LXXIX He held unsheathed that thundering sword in hand, Which with so many foes has heaped the plain, That he who thinks to count the slaughtered band, Has undertaken, hard emprize and vain.

The road ran red, ensanguined by his brand, And scarce capacious of the many slain.

For neither targe nor head-piece good defends, Where fatal Durindana's blade descends.

Lx.x.x Nor safety cotton vest, nor cloths supply, In thousand folds about the temples spread: Nor only groan and lamentation fly Through air, but shoulder, arm, and severed head, Death roams the field in strange variety Of horrid forms, and all inspiring dread; And says, "For hundreds of my scythes may stand His Durindana in Orlando's hand."

Lx.x.xI His ceaseless strokes scarce one the other wait: Speedily all his foemen are in flight.

And when before they came at furious rate, They hoped to swallow quick the single knight.

None is there who, in that unhappy straight, Stops for his comrade, flying from the fight.

Here one man speeds afoot, one gallops there; None stays to question if the road be fair.

Lx.x.xII His mirror Valour bore about, and here Each blemish of the soul was seen confest: None looked therein, except an aged peer, Whose blood was chilled, but courage unreprest.

That death were better deems this cavalier Than life in flight, and in disgrace possest: I mean Noritia's king, who lays his lance In rest against the paladin of France;

Lx.x.xIII He broke it on the border of the shield Of the intrepid count, with stedfast hand, Who, by the stroke unshaken, nothing reeled: And smote the king, in pa.s.sing, with his brand.

Him Fortune saved; for as Orlando wheeled The blade, it turned, descending, in his hand.

Although an-edge he guides not still the sword, Stunned from his saddle reels the paynim lord.

Lx.x.xIV Astounded from his saddle reels the king, Nor him Orlando turns about to see.

He cuts, and cleaves, and slays his following; Who all believe him at their backs to be.

As through the s.p.a.cious air, with troubled wing, The starlings from the daring merlin flee; So, of that broken squadron, scattered round, Some fly, some dip, and some fall flat to ground.

Lx.x.xV He ceased not his ensanguined blade to sway Till living wight remained not in his view.

Orlando doubted to resume his way, Although the country all about he knew.

Does he the right or left-hand road a.s.say, His thoughts still rove from what his steps pursue, And he to seek the damsel is in dread Through other path than that by which she fled.

Lx.x.xVI Through wood and field his courser did he goad, Often inquiring for the royal dame: Beside himself, he strayed beside his road, And to the foot of rising mountain came, Whence (it was night-time) through a fissure glowed The distant flicker of a quivering flame.

Orlando to the rock approached, to spy If there Angelica concealed might lie.

Lx.x.xVII As where low junipers o'er shade her lair, Or in the stubble of the open lay, What time the hunters seek the fearful hare Through traversed woods, and through uncertain way, -- Lest peradventure she be hidden there, They every bramble, every bush a.s.say; Even so, where hope the toiling warrior leads, Searching his lady-love, Orlando speeds.

Lx.x.xVIII p.r.i.c.king in haste towards that ray, the count Arrived where in the wood the light was shed, Forth-streaming from a crevice in the mount, Within whose womb a s.p.a.cious grotto spread; And there, like wall or bank, discerned in front, Of thorns and underwood a bristly bed, To hide the grotto's inmates, and defend From scathe or scorn, which others might intend.

Lx.x.xIX By day it had been hidden evermore; But the clear flame betrayed the haunt by night.

Its use he guessed; but would the place explore, And better certify himself by sight.

When he without had tied his Brigliador, In silence to the grotto stole the knight; Threading the shrubs; nor calling for a guide, Entered the pa.s.sage in the mountain's side.

XC By a long flight of steps was the descent Into the cave; where, in the rocky tomb, Buried were living folk. Of wide extent, The grot was chiselled into vaulted room; Nor was, although its entrance little lent, All daylight wanting to disperse the gloom: For much was furnished by a window dight, Within a natural fissure on the right.

XCI In the mid cave, beside a fire was seen A gentle maid of pleasing look and guise; Who seemed to Roland little past fifteen, As far as at first sight he might surmise.

With that so fair she made the rugged scene Seem in the warrior's sight a paradise.

Although this while her eyes with tears o'erflow, Clear tokens of a heart oppressed with woe.

XCII An aged dame was with her, and the pair Wrangled, as oftentimes is women's way; But when the County was descending there, Concluded the dispute and wordy fray.

Orlando hastens to salute them fair (As still is due to womankind) and they To welcome him rise lightly form their seat, And with benign return the warrior greet.

XCIII 'Tis true, that when that sudden voice they hear, Somedeal confused in look they seem to be, At the same time beholding thus appear So fierce a wight, and harnessed cap-a-pee.

"What wight" (demands Anglantes' cavalier) So barbarous is, and void of courtesy, That he keeps buried, in this rude repair, A face so gentle and so pa.s.sing fair?"

XCIV With pain the virgin to the count replies, As he inquires of her unhappy doom, In sweet and broken accents, which by sighs Impelled, through rows of pearl and coral come: And between rose and lily, from her eyes Tears fall so fast, she needs must swallow some.

In other canto, sir, be pleased to attend The rest, for here 'tis time my strain should end.

CANTO 13

ARGUMENT The Count Orlando of the damsel bland Who loves Zerbino, hears the piteous woes.

Next puts to death the felons with his hand Who pent her there. Duke Aymon's daughter goes, Seeking Rogero, where so large a band The old Atlantes' magic walls enclose.

Her he impounds, deceived by fictions new.

Agramant ranks his army for review.

I Those ancient cavaliers right happy were, Born in an age, when, in the gloomy wood, In valley, and in cave, wherein the bear, Serpent, or lion, hid their savage brood, They could find that, which now in palace rare Is hardly found by judges proved and good; Women, to wit, who in their freshest days Of beauty worthily deserve the praise.

II Above I told you how a gentle maid Orlando had discovered under ground, And asked, by whom she thither was conveyed?

Pursuing now my tale, I tell, how drowned In grief (her speech by many a sob delayed), The damsel fair, in sweet and softest sound, Summing them with what brevity she might, Her ills recounted to Anglantes' knight.

III "Though I am sure," she said, "O cavalier, To suffer punishment for what I say; Because I know, to him who pens me here, This woman quickly will the fact display; I would not but thou shouldst the story hear.

-- And let my wretched life the forfeit pay!

For what can wait me better than that he, My gaoler, should one day my death decree?

IV "Lo! I am Isabel, who once was styled The daughter of Gallicia's hapless king: I said aright who was; but now the child (No longer his) of care and suffering: The fault of Love, by whom I was beguiled; For against him alone this charge I bring.

Who sweetly, at the first, our wish applauds, And weaves in secret but deceit and frauds.

V "Whilom I lived, content in Fortune's smile, Rich, blameless, fair, and young; to sad reverse Condemned, I now am wretched, poor, and vile, And in worse case, if any yet be worse.

But it is fitting, I to thee this while From their first root my troubles should rehea.r.s.e.

And it will soothe me, though of thee I borrow No help, that thou compa.s.sionate my sorrow.

VI "My father in his city of Bayonne, (To-day will be twelve months) a tourney dight; Hence, led by spreading rumour to our town, To joust, from different lands came many a knight; Mid these (was it his manifest renown, Or was it love which so deceived my sight) Praise in my eyes alone Zerbino won, Who was the mighty king of Scotland's son.

VII "When him I after in the field espied, Performing wondrous feats of chivalry, I was surprised by Love, ere I descried That freedom in my Love, so rash a guide, I lay this unction to my phantasy, That no unseemly place my heart possest, Fixed on the worthiest in the world and best.

VIII "In beauty and in valour's boast above Those other lords the Scottish prince stood high.

He showed me, and, I think, be bore me love, And left no less an ardent flame than I.

Nor lacked there one who did between us move, To speak our common wishes frequently, So could we still in heart and mind unite, Although disjoined from one another's sight.

IX "Hence, when concluded was the festal show, And to his home Zerbino was returned, If thou know'st what is love, thou well may'st know How night and day I for the warrior yearned; And was a.s.sured, no less on him did prey The flame, that in his constant bosom burned.

He, save a way to have me with him, nought For solace of his restless pa.s.sion sought.

X "For different faith forbade him (on my side I was a saracen, a Christian he) To ask me of my father as a bride, By stealth he purposed to elope with me.

Amid green fields, our wealthy town beside, I had a garden, seated by the sea, Upon the pleasant sh.o.r.e; from whence the eye Might ocean and the hills about descry.

XI "A fitting place to effect what different creed And law forbade us, he esteemed this site, And showed the order taken for the deed, Which was to make our future life's delight; And how, near Santa Martha, for our need, A bark was with arm'd men in ambush dight, Under Sir Odoric of Biscay's command; A leader he, approved by sea and land!

XII "Unable in his person this to do, For by his father he was forced to wend In succour of the king of France, in lieu This Odoric for the purpose he would send; Chosen, of all his faithful friends and true, As his most faithful and his truest friend: And such had been, if benefits could bind And goodly deeds the friendship of mankind.

XIII "At the time fixed to bear me thence away, This chief would anchor on the destined ground.

-- And thus it was arrived the wished for day, Then I of them was in my garden found.

Sir Odoric, at night, with fair array Of valiant men, by land and sea renowned, In the near river from his bark descends, And thence in silence to my garden wends.