These Leonetto's, those Zerbino's brand O'erturns, all rivals in the glorious fray.

Well Charles and Oliver their parts have done, Turpin and Ogier, Guido and Salomon.

CLVI In peril were the Moors, that none again Should visit Heatheness, that day opprest: But that the wise and wary king of Spain, Gathered, and from the field bore off the rest: To sit down with his loss he better gain Esteemed, that here to hazard purse and vest: Better some remnant of the host to save, Than bid whole squadrons stand and find a grave.

CLVII He bids forthwith the Moorish ensigns be Borne to the camp, which fosse and rampart span.

With the bold monarch of Andology, The valiant Portuguese, and Stordilan.

He sends to pray the king of Barbary, To endeavour to retire, as best be can; Who will no little praise that day deserve, If he his person and his place preserve.

CLVIII That king, who deemed himself in desperate case, Nor ever more Biserta hoped to see; For, with so horrible and foul a face He never Fortune had beheld, with glee Heard that Marsilius had contrived to place Part of his host in full security; And faced about his banners and bade beat Throughout his broken squadrons a retreat.

CLIX But the best portion neither signal knew, Nor listened to the drum or trumpet's sound.

So scared, so crowded is the wretched crew, That many in Seine's neighbouring stream are drowned, Agramant, who would form the band anew, (With him Sobrino) scowers the squadrons round; And with them every leader good combines To bring the routed host within their lines.

CLX But nought by sovereign or Sobrino done, Who, toiling, them with prayer or menace stirred, To march, where their ill-followed flags are gone.

Can bring (I say not all) not even a third.

Slaughtered or put to flight are two for one Who 'scapes, -- nor he unharmed: among that herd, Wounded is this behind, and that before, And wearied, one and all, and hara.s.sed sore.

CLXI And even within their lines, in panic sore, They by the Christian bands are held in chase; And of all needful matters little store Was made there, for provisioning the place.

Charlemagne wisely by the lock before Would grapple Fortune, when she turned her face, But that dark night upon the field descended, And hushed all earthly matters and suspended:

CLXII By the Creator haply hastened, who Was moved to pity for the works he made.

The blood in torrents ran the country through, Flooding the roads: while on the champaign laid Were eighty thousand of the paynim crew, Cut off that day by the destroying blade: Last trooped from caverns, at the midnight hour, Villain and wolf to spoil them and devour.

CLXIII King Charles returns no more within the town, But camps without the city, opposite The Moor's cantonments, and bids up and down, And round, high-piled and frequent watch-fires light.

The paynim fashions ditch and bastion, Rampart and mine, and all things requisite; Visits his outposts and his guards alarms, Nor all the livelong night puts off his arms.

CLXIV That livelong night the foes, throughout their tents, As insecure and with their scathe deprest, Poured tears, and uttered murmurs and laments; But, as they could, their sounds of woe supprest.

One grief for slaughtered friends or kindred vents; Some are by sorrows of their own distrest, As wounded or as ill at ease; but more Tremble at mischief which they deem in store.

CLXV Two Moors amid the paynim army were, From stock obscure in Ptolomita grown; Of whom the story, an example rare Of constant love, is worthy to be known: Medoro and Cloridan were named the pair; Who, whether Fortune pleased to smile or frown, Served Dardinello with fidelity, And late with him to France had crost the sea.

CLXVI Of nimble frame and strong was Cloridane, Throughout his life a follower of the chase.

A cheek of white, suffused with crimson grain, Medoro had, in youth a pleasing grace.

Nor bound on that emprize, 'mid all the train, Was there a fairer or more jocund face.

Crisp hair he had of gold, and jet-black eyes: And seemed an angel lighted from the skies.

CLXVII These two were posted on a rampart's height, With more to guard the encampment from surprise, When 'mid the equal intervals, at night, Medoro gazed on heaven with sleepy eyes.

In all his talk, the stripling, woful wight, Here cannot choose, but of his lord devise, The royal Dardinel; and evermore Him, left unhonoured on the field, deplore.

CLXVIII Then, turning to his mate, cries: "Cloridane, I cannot tell thee what a cause of woe It is to me, my lord upon the plain Should lie, unworthy food for wolf or crow!

Thinking how still to me he was humane, Meseems, if in his honour I forego This life of mine, for favours so immense I shall but make a feeble recompense.

CLXIX "That he may lack not sepulture, will I Go forth, and seek him out among the slain; And haply G.o.d may will that none shall spy Where Charles's camp lies hushed. Do thou remain; That, if my death be written in the sky, Thou may'st the deed be able to explain.

So that if Fortune foil so fear a feat, The world, through Fame, my loving heart may weet."

CLXX Amazed was Cloridan a child should show Such heart, such love, and such fair loyalty; And fain would make the youth his though forego, Whom he held pa.s.sing dear; but fruitlessly Would move his stedfast purpose; for such woe Will neither comforted nor altered be.

Medoro is disposed to meet his doom, Or to enclose his master in the tomb.

CLXXI Seeing that nought would bend him, nought would move, "I too will go," was Cloridan's reply, "In such a glorious act myself will prove; As well such famous death I cover, I: What other thing is left me, here above, Deprived of thee, Medoro mine? To die With thee in arms is better, on the plain, Than afterwards of grief, should'st thou be slain."

CLXXII And thus resolved, disposing in their place Their guard's relief, depart the youthful pair, Leave fosse and palisade, and, in small s.p.a.ce, Are among ours, who watch with little care: Who, for they little fear the paynim race, Slumber with fires extinguished everywhere.

'Mid carriages and arms, they lie supine Up to the eyes, immersed in sleep and wine.

CLXXIII A moment Cloridano stopt and cried: "Not to be lost are opportunities.

This troop, by whom my master's blood was shed, Medoro, ought not I to sacrifice?

Do thou, lest any one this way be led, Watch everywhere about, with ears and eyes.

For a wide way, amid the hostile horde, I offer here to make thee with my sword."

CLXXIV So said he, and his talk cut quickly short, Coming where learned Alpheus slumbered nigh; Who had the year before sought Charles's court, In medicine, magic, and astrology Well versed; but now in art found small-support, Or rather found that it was all a lie.

He had foreseen, that he his long-drawn life Should finish in the bosom of his wife.

CLXXV And now the Saracen with wary view Has pierced his weasand with the pointed sword.

Four others he neat that Diviner, slew, Nor gave the wretches time to say a word.

Sir Turpin in his story tells not who, And Time had of their names effaced record.

Palidon of Moncalier next he speeds; One who securely sleeps between two steeds.

CLXXVI Next came the warrior where, with limbs outspread, Pillowed on barrel, lay the wretched Gryll: This he had drained, and undisturbed by dread, Hoped to enjoy a peaceful sleep and still.

The daring Saracen lopt off his head, Blood issues from the tap-hole, with a rill Of wine; and he, well drenched with many a can, Dreams that he drinks, dispatched by Cloridan.

CLXXVII Next Gryll, Andropono and Conrad hight, A Greek and German, at two thrusts he gored, Who in the air had past large part of night With dice and goblet; blest it at that board They still had watched, till, clothed in amber light, The radiant sun had traversed Indus' ford!

But mortals Destiny would set at nought If every wight futurity were taught.

CLXXVIII As, in full fold, a lion long unfed, Whom wasting famine had made lean and spare, Devours and rends, and swallows, and lays dead The feeble flock, which at his mercy are; So, in their sleep, the cruel paynim bled Our host, and made wide slaughter everywhere: Nor blunted was the young Medoro's sword, But he disdained to smite the ign.o.ble horde.

CLXXIX He to Labretto's duke, leaving those dead, Had come, who slumbered with a gentle mate, Each clasping each so closely in their bed, That air between them could not penetrate.

From both Medoro cleanly lopt the head.

Oh! blessed way of death! oh! happy fate!

For 'tis my trust, that as their bodies, so Their souls embracing to their bourne shall go.

CLx.x.x Malindo, with Andalico, he slew, His brother, sons to the earl of Flanders they: To whom has bearings (each to arms was new) Charles had the lilies given; because that day The monarch had beheld the valiant two With crimsoned staves, returning from the fray; And them with lands in Flanders vowed to glad; And would, but that Medoro this forbad.

CLx.x.xI Rearing the insidious blade, the pair are near The place, where round King Charles' pavilion Are tented warlike paladin and peer, Guarding the side that each is camped upon.

When in good time the paynims backward steer, And sheathe their swords, the impious slaughter done; Deeming impossible, in such a number, But they must light on one who does not slumber.

CLx.x.xII And though they might escape well charged with prey, To save themselves they think sufficient gain.

Thither by what he deems the safest way (Medoro following him) went Cloridane Where, in the field, 'mid bow and falchion, lay, And shield and spear, in pool of purple stain, Wealthy and poor, the king and va.s.sal's corse, And overthrown the rider and his horse.

CLx.x.xIII The horrid mixture of the bodies there Which heaped the plain where roved these comrades sworn, Might well have rendered vain their faithful care Amid the mighty piles, till break of morn, Had not the moon, at young Medoro's prayer, Out of a gloomy cloud put forth her horn.

Medoro to the heavens upturns his eyes Towards the moon, and thus devoutly cries:

CLx.x.xIV "O holy G.o.ddess! whom our fathers well Have styled as of a triple form, and who Thy sovereign beauty dost in heaven, and h.e.l.l, And earth, in many forms reveal; and through The greenwood holt, of beast and monster fell, -- A huntress bold -- the flying steps pursue, Show where my king, amid so many lies, Who did, alive, thy holy studies prize."

CLx.x.xV At the youth's prayer from parted cloud outshone (Were it the work of faith or accident) The moon, as fair, as when Endymion She circled in her naked arms: with tent, Christian or Saracen, was Paris-town Seen in that gleam, and hill and plain's extent.

With these Mount Martyr and Mount Levy's height, This on the left, and that upon the right.

CLx.x.xVI The silvery splendor glistened yet more clear, There where renowned Almontes' son lay dead.

Faithful Medoro mourned his master dear, Who well agnized the quartering white and red, With visage bathed in many a bitter tear (For he a rill from either eyelid shed), And piteous act and moan, that might have whist The winds, his melancholy plaint to list;

CLx.x.xVII But with a voice supprest: not that he aught Regards if any one the noise should hear, Because he of his life takes any thought; Of which loathed burden he would fain be clear; But, lest his being heard should bring to nought The pious purpose which has brought them here.