LXXVI Agramant from the wall a numerous band Of horse and foot withdraws, and sends the array Beneath the king of Fez, with a command Behind the Moorish tents to make his way, And those of Ireland in their march withstand, Whom he sees hurrying with what haste they may, And with wide wheel and s.p.a.cious compa.s.s wind, To fall upon the paynim camp behind.

LXXVII The king of Fez upon this service prest; For all delay might sore his work impede.

This while King Agramant unites the rest, And parts the troops who to the battle speed.

He sought himself the river, where he guessed The Moorish host might most his presence need; And, from that quarter, had a courier prayed, By King Sobrino sent, the monarch's aid.

LXXVIII He more than half his camp behind him led, In one deep phalanx. At the mighty sound Alone, the Scotsmen trembled, and in dread Abandoned honour, order, and their ground: Lurcanio, Ariodantes, and their head, Zerbino, there alone the torrent bound; And haply he, who was afoot, had died, But that in time his need Rinaldo spied.

LXXIX Elsewhere the paladin was making fly A hundred banners: while the cavalier So chased the quailing Saracens, the cry Of young Zerbino's peril smote the ear; For, single and afoot, his chivalry Amid the Africans had left the peer.

Rinaldo turned about and took his way Where he beheld the Scots in disarray.

Lx.x.x He plants his courser, where their squadrons yield To the fierce paynims, and exclaims: "Where go Your bands, and why so basely quit the field, Yielding so vilely to so vile a foe?

Behold the promised trophies, spear and shield, Spoils which your loaded churches ought to show!

What praise! what glory! that alone, and reft Of his good horse, your monarch's son is left!

Lx.x.xI He from a squire receives a lance, and spies King Prusion little distant, sovereign Of the Alvaracchiae, and against him hies; Whom he unhorses, dead upon the plain.

So Agricalt, so Bambirago dies; And next sore wounded is Sir Soridane; Who had been slain as well amid the throng, If good Rinaldo's lance had proved more strong.

Lx.x.xII That weapon broken, he Fusberta rears, And smites Sir Serpentine, him of the star.

Though charmed from mischief are the cavalier's Good arms, he falls astounded by the jar, And thus Rinaldo round Zerbino clears The field so widely, where those champions war, That without more dispute he takes a horse Of those, who masterless, at random, course.

Lx.x.xIII That he in time remounted it was well, Who haply would not, if he more delayed: For Agramant at once, and Dardinel, Sobrino, and Balastro thither made; But he, who had in time regained the sell, Wheeled, here and there his horse, with brandished blade, Dispatching into h.e.l.l the mixt array, That how men live above their ghosts might say.

Lx.x.xIV The good Rinaldo, who to overthrow The strongest of the foeman covets still, At Agramant directs a deadly blow, -- Who seems too pa.s.sing-proud, and greater ill Works there, than thousand others of the foe -- And spurs his horse, the Moorish chief to spill.

He smote the monarch, broadside charged the steed, And man and horse reversed upon the mead.

Lx.x.xV What time, without, in such destructive frays Hate, Rage, and Fury, all offend by turns, In Paris Rodomont the people slays, And costly house, and holy temple burns: While Charles elsewhere anther duty stays, Who nothing hears of this, nor aught discerns.

He, in the town, receives the British band, Which Edward and Sir Ariman command.

Lx.x.xVI To him a squire approached, who pale with dread, Scarce drew his breath, and cried: "Oh, well away!

Alas! alas!" (and thus he often said, Ere he could utter aught beside). "To-day, To-day, sire, is the Roman empire sped, And Christ to the heathen makes his flock a prey.

A fiend from air to-day has dropt, that none Henceforth may in this city make their won.

Lx.x.xVII "Satan (in sooth, it can no other be) Destroys and ruins the unhappy town.

Turn, and the curling wreaths of vapour see, From the red flames which wander up and down; List to those groans, and be they warrantry Of the sad news thy servant now makes known!

One the fair city wastes with sword and fire, Before whose vengeful fury all retire."

Lx.x.xVIII Even such as he, who hears the tumult wide, And clatter of church-bells, ere he espy The raging fire, concealed from none beside Himself, to him most dangerous, and most nigh; Such was King Charles; who heard, and then descried The new disaster with his very eye.

Hence he the choicest of his meiny steers Thither, where he the cry and tumult hears.

Lx.x.xIX With many peers and chiefs, who worthiest are, Summoned about him, Charlemagne is gone: He bids direct his standards to the square Whither the paynim had repaired; hears groan And tumult, spies the horrid tokens there Of cruelty, sees human members strown.

-- No more -- Let him return another time, Who willingly will listen to this rhyme.

CANTO 17

ARGUMENT Charles goes, with his, against King Rodomont.

Gryphon in Norandino's tournament Does mighty deeds; Martano turns his front, Showing how recreant is his natural bent; And next, on Gryphon to bring down affront, Stole from the knight the arms in which he went; Hence by the kindly monarch much esteemed, And Gryphon scorned, whom he Martano deemed.

I G.o.d, outraged by our rank iniquity, Whenever crimes have past remission's bound, That mercy may with justice mingled be, Has monstrous and destructive tyrants crowned; And gifted them with force and subtlety, A sinful world to punish and confound.

Marius and Sylla to this end were nursed, Rome with two Neros and a Caius cursed;

II Domitian and the latter Antonine; And, lifted from the lowest rabble's lees, To imperial place and puissance, Maximine: Hence Thebes to cruel Creon bent her knees, Mezentius ruled the subject Agiline, Fattening his fields with blood. To pests like these Our Italy was given in later day, To Lombard, Goth, and Hun a bleeding prey.

III What shall I of fierce Attila, what say Of wicked Ezzeline, and hundreds more?

Whom, because men still trod the crooked way, G.o.d sent them for their pain and torment sore.

Of this ourselves have made a clear a.s.say, As well as those who lived in days of yore; Consigned to ravening wolves, ordained to keep Us, his ill-nurturing and unuseful sheep;

IV Who, as if having more than served to fill Their hungry maw, invite from foreign wood Beyond the mountain, wolves of greedier will, With them to be partakers of their food.

The bones which Thrasymene and Trebbia fill, And Cannae, seem but few to what are strewed On fattened field and bank, where on their way Adda and Mella, Ronco and Tarro stray.

V Now G.o.d permits that we should feel the spite Of people, who are haply worse than we, For errors multiplied and infinite, And foul and pestilent iniquity.

The time will come we may such ill requite Upon their sh.o.r.es, if we shall better be, And their transgressions ever prove above The long endurance of AETERNAL LOVE.

VI The Christian people then G.o.d's placid front Must have disturbed with their excesses sore; Since them with slaughter, rape, and rapine hunt, Through all their quarters, plundering Turk and Moor: But the unsparing rage of Rodomont Proves worse than all the ills endured before.

I said that Charlemagne had made repair In search of him towards the city square.

VII Charles, by the way, his people's butchery Beholds -- burnt palaces and ruined fanes -- And sees large portion of the city lie In unexampled wreck. -- "Ye coward trains, Whither in heartless panic would ye fly?

Will none his loss contemplate? what remains To you, -- what place of refuge, say, is left, If this from you so shamefully be reft?

VIII "Then shall one man alone, a prisoned foe, Who cannot scale the walls which round him spread, Unscathed, unquestioned, from your city go, When all are by his vengeful arm laid dead?"

Thus Charlemagne, whose veins with anger glow, And shame, too strong to brook, in fury said; And to the s.p.a.cious square made good his way, Where he beheld the foe his people slay.

IX Thither large portion of the populace, Climbing the palace roof, had made resort; For strongly walled, and furnished was the place With ammunition, for their long support.

Rodomont, mad with pride, had, in his chace Of the scared burghers, singly cleared the court, He with one daring hand, which scorned the world, Brandished the sword; -- his other wildfire hurled;

X And smote and thundered, 'mid a fearful shower, At the sublime and royal house's gate.

To their life's peril, crumbling roof and tower Is tost by them that on the summit wait: Nor any fears to ruin hall or bower; But wood and stone endure one common fate, And marbled column, slab, and gilded beam, By sire and grandsire held in high esteem.

XI Rodomont stands before the portal, bright With steel, his head and bust secured in mail, Like to a serpent, issued into light, Having cast off his slough, diseased and stale: Who more than ever joying in his might, Renewed in youth, and proud of polished scale, Darts his three tongues, fire flashing from his eyes; While every frighted beast before him flies.

XII Nor bulwark, stone, nor arbalest, nor bow, Nor what upon the paynim smote beside, Sufficed to arrest the sanguinary foe; Who broke and hewed, and shook that portal wide, And in his fury let such day-light through, 'Twas easy to espy -- and might be spied -- In visages o'ercast in death-like sort, That full of people was the palace court.

XIII Through those fair chambers echoed shouts of dread, And feminine lament from dame distrest; And grieving, through the house, pale women fled, Who wept, afflicted sore, and beat their breast.

And hugged the door-post and the genial bed, Too soon to be by stranger lords possest.

The matter in this state of peril hung When thither came the king, his peers among.

XIV Charles turned him round to these, of vigorous hand, Whom he had found in former peril true.

"Are you not those that erst with me did stand 'Gainst Agolant in Aspramont? In you Is vigour now so spent, (he said), the band, Who him, Troyano, and Almontes slew, With hundreds more, that you now fear to face One of that very blood, that very race?

XV "Why should I now in contest with the foe Less strength in you behold than them? Your might Upon this hound (pursued the monarch) show; This hound who preys on man. -- A generous sprite The thought of death -- approach he fast or slow -- So that he dies but well, holds cheap and light.

But where you are, I doubt my fortune ill, For by your succour, have I conquered still."

XVI This said, he spurred his courser, couched his spear, And charged the paynim; nor of life less free, Sir Ogier joined the king in his career; Namus and Oliver; and, with the three, Avino, Avolio, Otho, and Berlinghier: (For one without the rest I never see) And on the bosom, flanks, and on the front, All smote together at King Rodomont.

XVII But let us, sir, for love of Heaven, forego Of anger and of death the noisome lore; And be it deemed that I have said enow, For this while, of that Saracen, not more Cruel than strong; 'tis time in trace to go Of Gryphon, left with Origille, before Damascus' gate, and him who with her came, The adulterer, not the brother of the dame.

XVIII Of all the cities under eastern skies, Most wealthy, populous, and fairly dight, 'Tis said, Damascus is; which distant lies From Salem seven days' journey; its fair site, A fertile plain, abundant fruits supplies, Winter and summer, sojourn of delight.

Shading the city from the dawning day, A mountain intercepts its early ray.