-- If ever earnestness of prayer could boot To melt a heart that with resentment glowed, -- If e'er humility produced good fruit, It well might here avail; since all that best Moves a hard heart, Sir Odoric now exprest.

x.x.xIV Whether or no to venge such infamy, Youthful Zerbino doubted: the review Of faithless Odorico's treachery Moved him to death the felon to pursue; The recollection of the amity So long maintained between them, with the dew Of pity cooled the fury in his mind, And him to mercy towards the wretch inclined.

x.x.xV While Scotland's prince is doubting in such wise To keep him captive, or to loose his chain; Or to remove him from before his eyes, By dooming him to die, or live in pain; Loud neighing, thitherward the palfrey hies From which the Tartar king had stript the rein; And the old harridan, who had before Nigh caused Zerbino's death, among them bore.

x.x.xVI The horse, that had the others of that band Heard at a distance, thither her conveyed.

Sore weeping came the old woman, and demand For succour, in her trouble, vainly made.

Zerbino, when he saw her, raised his hand To heaven, that had to him such grace displayed, Giving him to decide that couple's fate; The only two that had deserved his hate.

x.x.xVII The wicked hag is kept, so bids the peer, Until he is determined what to do: He to cut off her nose and either ear Now thought, and her as an example shew.

Next, 'twere far better, deemed the cavalier, If to the vultures he her carcase threw: He diverse punishments awhile revolved, And thus the warrior finally resolved.

x.x.xVIII He to his comrades turned him round, and said: "To let the traitour live I am content, Who, if full grace he has not merited, Yet merits not to be so foully shent.

I, as I find his fault of Love was bred, To give him life and liberty consent; And easily we all excuses own, When on commanding Love the blame is thrown.

x.x.xIX "Often has Love turned upside down a brain Of sounder wit than that to him a.s.signed, And led to mischief of far deeper stain, Than has so outraged us. Let Odoric find Pardon his offences; I the pain Of these should justly suffer, who was blind; Blind when I gave him such a trust, nor saw How easily the fire consumes the straw."

XL "Then gazing upon Odoric, 'gan say: "This is the penance I enjoin to thee; That thou a year shalt with the beldam stay, Nor ever leave this while her company; But, roving or at rest, by night or day, Shalt never for an hour without her be; And her shall even unto death maintain Against whoever threatens her with pain.

XLI "I will, if so this woman shall command, With whosoe'er he be, thou battle do.

I will this while that thou all France's land, From city shalt to city, wander through."

So says he: for as Odoric at his hand Well merits death, for his foul trespa.s.s due, This is a pitfall for his feet to shape, Which it will be rare fortune if he 'scape.

XLII So many women, many men betrayed, And wronged by her, have been so many more, Not without strife by knight shall he be stayed, Who was beneath his care the beldam h.o.a.r.

So, for their crimes, shall both alike be paid; She for her evil actions done before, And he who wrongfully shall her defraud; Nor far can go before he finds an end.

XLIII To keep the pact Zerbino makes him swear A mighty oath, under this penalty, That should he break his faith, and anywhere Into his presence led by fortune be, Without more mercy, without time for prayer, A cruel death shall wait him, as his fee.

Next by his comrades (so their lord commands) Sir Odoric is unpinioned from his bands.

XLIV Corebo frees the traitor in the end, Almonio yielding, yet as ill content: For much Zerbino's mercies both offend, Which thus their so desired revenge prevent.

Thence, he disloyal to his prince and friend, In company with that curst woman went.

What these befel Sir Turpin has not said, But more I once in other author read.

XLV This author vouches (I declare not who) That hence they had not one day's journey wended, When Odoric, to all pact, all faith, untrue, For riddance of the pest to him commended, About Gabrina's neck a halter threw, And left her to a neighbouring elm suspended; And in a year (the place he does not name) Almonio by the traitor did the same.

XLVI Zerbino, who the Paladin pursues, And loath would be to lose the cavalier, To his Scottish squadron of himself sends news, Which for its captain well might stand in fear; Almonio sends, and many matters shews, Too long at full to be recited here; Almonio sends, Corebo next; nor stayed Other with him, besides the royal maid.

XLVII So mighty is the love Zerbino bore, Nor less than his the love which Isabel Nursed for the valorous Paladin, so sore He longed to know if that bold infidel The Count had found, who in the duel tore Him from his horse, together with the sell, That he to Charles's camp, till the third day Be ended, will not measure back his way.

XLVIII This was the term for which Orlando said He should wait him, who yet no faulchion wears; Nor is there place the Count has visited, But thither in his search Zerbino fares.

Last to those trees, upon whose bark was read The ungrateful lady's writing, he repairs, Little beside the road; and there finds all In strange disorder, rock and water-fall.

XLIX Far off, he saw that something shining lay, And spied Orlando's corslet on the ground; And next his helm; but not that head-piece gay Which whilom African Almontes crowned: He in the thicket heard a courser neigh, And, lifting up his visage at the sound, Saw Brigliadoro the green herbage browze, With rein yet hanging at his saddle-bows.

L For Durindane, he sought the greenwood, round, Which separate from the scabbard met his view; And next the surcoat, but in tatters, found; That, in a hundred rags, the champaign strew.

Zerbino and Isabel, in grief profound, Stood looking on, nor what to think they knew: They of all matters else might think, besides The fury which the wretched Count misguides.

LI Had but the lovers seen a drop of blood, They might have well believed Orlando dead: This while the pair, beside the neighbouring flood, Beheld a shepherd coming, pale with dread.

He just before, as on a rock he stood, Had seen the wretch's fury; how he shed His arms about the forest, tore his clothes, Slew hinds, and caused a thousand other woes.

LII Questioned by good Zerbino, him the swain Of all which there had chanced, informed aright.

Zerbino marvelled, and believed with pain, Although the proofs were clear: This as it might, He from his horse dismounted on the plain, Full of compa.s.sion, in afflicted plight; And went about, collecting from the ground The various relics which were scattered round.

LIII Isabel lights as well; and, where they lie Dispersed, the various arms uniting goes.

Lo! them a damsel joins, who frequent sigh Heaves from her heart, and doleful visage shows.

If any ask me who the dame, and why She mourns, and with such sorrow overflows; I say 'twas Flordelice, who, bound in trace Of her lost lover's footsteps, sought that place.

LIV Her Brandimart had left disconsolate Without farewell, i' the court of Charlemagne: Who there expected him six months or eight; -- And lastly, since he came not there again, From sea to sea, had sought her absent mate, Through Alpine and through Pyrenean chain: In every place had sought the warrior, save Within the palace of Atlantes' grave.

LV If she had been in that enchanted hold, She might before have seen the cavalier Wandering with Bradamant, Rogero bold, Grada.s.so and Ferrau and Brava's peer.

But, when Astolpho chased the wizard old, With the loud bugle, horrible to hear, To Paris he returned; but nought of this As yet was known to faithful Flordelice.

LVI To Flordelice were known the arms and sword (Who, as I say, by chance so joined the twain), And Brigliadoro, left without his lord, Yet bearing at the saddle-bow his rein: She with her eyes the unhappy signs explored, And she had heard the tidings of the swain, Who had alike related, how he viewed Orlando running frantic, in his mood.

LVII Here prince Zerbino all the arms unites, And hangs, like a fair trophy, on a pine.

And, to preserve them safe from errant knights, Natives or foreigners, in one short line Upon the sapling's verdant surface writes, ORLANDO'S ARMS, KING CHARLES'S PALADINE.

As he would say, 'Let none this harness move, Who cannot with its lord his prowess prove!'

LVIII Zerbino having done the pious deed, Is bowning him to climb his horse; when, lo!

The Tartar king arrives upon the mead.

He, at the trophied pine-tree's gorgeous show, Beseeches him the cause of this to read; Who lets him (as rehea.r.s.ed) the story know.

When, without further pause, the paynim lord Hastes gladly to the pine, and takes the sword.

LIX "None can (he said) the action reprehend, Nor first I make the faulchion mine today; And to its just possession I pretend Where'er I find it, be it where it may.

Orlando, this not daring to defend, Has feigned him mad, and cast the sword away; But if the champion so excuse his shame, This is no cause I should forego my claim.

LX "Take it not thence," to him Zerbino cried, "Nor think to make it thine without a fight: If so thou tookest Hector's arms of pride, By theft thou hadst them, rather than by right."

Without more parley spurred upon each side.

Well matched in soul and valour, either knight.

Already echoed are a thousand blows; Nor yet well entered are the encountering foes.

LXI In scaping Durindane, a flame in show (He shifts so quickly) is the Scottish lord.

He leaps about his courser like a doe, Where'er the road best footing does afford.

And well it is that he should not forego An inch of vantage; who, if once that sword Smite him, will join the enamoured ghosts, which rove Amid the mazes of the myrtle grove.

LXII As the swift-footed dog, who does espy Swine severed from his fellows, hunts him hard, And circles round about; but he lies by Till once the restless foe neglect his guard; So, while the sword descends, or hangs on high, Zerbino stands, attentive how to ward, How to save life and honour from surprise; And keeps a wary eye, and smites and flies.

LXIII On the other side, where'er the foe is seen To threaten stroke in vain, or make good, He seems an Alpine wind, two hills between, That in the month of March shakes leafy wood; Which to the ground now bends the forest green.

Now whirls the broken boughs, at random strewed.

Although the prince wards many, in the end One mighty stroke he cannot scape or fend.

LXIV In the end he cannot scape one downright blow, Which enters, between sword and shield, his breast, As perfect was the plate and corslet, so Thick was the steel wherein his paunch was drest: But the destructive weapon, falling low, Equally opened either iron vest; And cleft whate'er it swept in its descent, And to the saddle-bow, through cuira.s.s, went.

LXV And, but that somewhat short the blow descends, It would Zerbino like a cane divide; But him so little in the quick offends, This scarce beyond the skin is scarified.

More than a span in length the wound extends; Of little depth: of blood a tepid tide To his feet descending, with a crimson line, Stains the bright arms which on the warrior shine.

LXVI 'Tis so, I sometimes have been wont to view A hand, more white than alabaster, part The silver cloth, with ribbon red of hue; A hand I often feel divide my heart.

Here little vantage young Zerbino drew From strength and greater daring, and from art; For in the temper of his arms and might, Too much the Tartar king excelled the knight.