III She feigns as well with that deceitful scout; (Fitting with him the father of all lies) Watches his thievish hands in fear and doubt; And follows every motion with her eyes.

When lo! a mighty noise is heard without!

"O mighty mother! king of heaven!" she cries, "What thing is this I hear?" and quickly springs Towards the place from whence the larum rings,

IV And sees the host and all his family, Where, one to door, and one to window slips, With eyes upturned and gazing at the sky, As if to witness comet or eclipse.

And there the lady views, with wondering eye, What she had scarce believed from other's lips, A feathered courser, sailing through the rack, Who bore an armed knight upon his back.

V Broad were his pinions, and of various hue; Seated between, a knight the saddle pressed, Clad in steel arms, which wide their radiance threw, His wonderous course directed to the west: There dropt among the mountains lost to view.

And this was, as that host informed his guest, (And true the tale) a sorcerer, who made Now farther, now more near, his frequent raid.

VI "He, sometimes towering, soars into the skies; Then seems, descending, but to skim the ground: And of all beauteous women makes a prize, Who, to their mischief, in these parts are found.

Hence, whether in their own or other's eyes, Esteemed as fair, the wretched damsels round, (And all in fact the felon plunders) hine; As fearing of the sun to be descried.

VII "A castle on the Pyrenean height The necromancer keeps, the work of spell."

(The host relates) "of steel, so fair and bright, All nature cannot match the wonderous sh.e.l.l.

There many cavaliers, to prove their might, Have gone, but none returned the tale to tell.

So that I doubt, fair sir, the thief enthralls Or slays whoever in the encounter falls."

VIII The watchful maid attends to every thing, Glad at her heart, and trusting to complete (What she shall compa.s.s by the virtuous ring) The downfall of the enchanter and his seat.

Then to the host -- "A guide I pray thee bring, Who better knows than me the thief's retreat.

So burns my heart. (nor can I choose but go) To strive in battle with this wizard foe."

IX "It shall not need," exclaimed the dwarfish Moor, "For I, myself, will serve you as a guide; Who have the road set down, with other lore, So that you shall rejoice with me to ride."

He meant the ring, but further hint forbore; Lest dearly he the avowed should abide.

And she to him -- "Your guidance gives me pleasure."

Meaning by this she hoped to win his treasure.

X What useful was to say, she said, and what Might hurt her with the Saracen, concealed.

Well suited to her ends, the host had got A palfrey, fitting for the road or field.

She bought the steed, and as Aurora shot Her rosy rays, rode forth with spear and shield: And maid and courier through a valley wind, Brunello now before and now behind.

XI From wood to wood, from mount to mountain h.o.a.r, They clomb a summit, which in cloudless sky Discovers France and Spain, and either sh.o.r.e.

As from a peak of Apennine the eye May Tuscan and Sclavonian sea explore, There, whence we journey to Camaldoli.

Then through a rugged path and painful wended, Which thence into a lowly vale descended.

XII A rock from that deep valley's centre springs; Bright walls of steel about its summit go: And this as high that airy summit flings, As it leaves all the neighbouring cliffs below.

He may not scale the height who has not wings, And vainly would each painful toil bestow.

"Lo! where his prisoners!" Sir Brunello cries, "Ladies and cavaliers, the enchanter sties."

XIII Scarped smooth upon four parts, the mountain bare Seemed fashioned with the plumb, by builder's skill Nor upon any side was path or stair, Which furnished man the means to climb the hill.

The castle seemed the very nest and lair Of animal, supplied with plume and quill.

And here the damsel knows 'tis time to slay The wily dwarf, and take the ring away.

XIV But deems it foul, with blood of man to stain Unarmed and of so base a sort, her brand; For well, without his death, she may obtain The costly ring; and so suspends her hand.

Brunello, off his guard, with little pain, She seized, and strongly bound with girding band: Then to a lofty fir made fast the string; But from his finger first withdrew the ring.

XV Neither by tears, nor groans, nor sound of woe, To move the stedfast maid the dwarf had power: She down the rugged hill descended slow, Until she reached the plain beneath the tower.

Then gave her bugle breath, the keep below, To call the castled wizard to the stower: And when the sound was finished, threatening cried, And called him to the combat and defied.

XVI Not long within his gate the enchanter stayed, After he heard the voice and bugle ring.

Against the foe, who seemed a man, arrayed In arms, with him the horse is on the wing.

But his appearance well consoled the maid, Who, with small cause for fear, beheld him bring Nor mace, nor rested lance, nor bitting sword, Wherewith the corselet might be bruised or gored.

XVII On his left arm alone his shield he took, Covered all o'er with silk of crimson hue; In his right-hand he held an open book, Whence, as the enchanter read, strange wonder grew: For often times, to sight, the lance he shook; And flinching eyelids could not hide the view; With tuck or mace he seemed to smite the foe: But sate aloof and had not struck a blow.

XVIII No empty fiction wrought by magic lore, But natural was the steed the wizard pressed; For him a filly to griffin bore; Hight hippogryph. In wings and beak and crest, Formed like his sire, as in the feet before; But like the mare, his dam, in all the rest.

Such on Riphaean hills, though rarely found, Are bred, beyond the frozen ocean's bound.

XIX Drawn by enchantment from his distant lair, The wizard thought but how to tame the foal; And, in a month, instructed him to bear Saddle and bit, and gallop to the goal; And execute on earth or in mid air, All shifts of manege, course and caracole; He with such labour wrought. This only real, Where all the rest was hollow and ideal.

XX This truth by him with fictions was combined, Whose sleight pa.s.sed red for yellow, black for white: But all his vain enchantments could not blind The maid, whose virtuous ring a.s.sured her sight: Yet she her blows discharges at the wind; And spurring here and there prolongs the fight.

So drove or wheeled her steed, and smote at nought, And practised all she had before been taught.

XXI When she sometime had fought upon her horse, She from the courser on her feet descends: To compa.s.s and more freely put in force, As by the enchantress schooled, her wily ends.

The wizard, to display his last resource, Unweeting the defence, towards her wends.

He bares the shield, secure to blind his foe, And by the magic light, astonished, throw.

XXII The shield might have been shown at first, nor he Needed to keep the cavaliers at bay; But that he loved some master-stroke to see, Achieved by lance or sword in single fray.

As with the captive mouse, in sportive glee, The wily cat is sometimes seen to play; Till waxing wroth, or weary of her prize, She bites, and at a snap the prisoner dies.

XXIII To cat and mouse, in battles fought before, I liken the magician and his foes; But the comparison holds good no more: For, with the ring, the maid against him goes; Firm and attentive still, and watching sore, Lest upon her the wizard should impose: And as she sees him bare the wondrous shield, Closes her eyes and falls upon the field.

XXIV Not that the shining metal could offend, As wont those others, from its cover freed; But so the damsel did, to make descend The vain enchanter from his wondrous steed.

Nor was in ought defeated of her end; For she no sooner on the gra.s.sy mead Had laid her head, than wheeling widely round, The flying courser pitched upon the ground.

XXV Already cased again, the shield was hung, By the magician, at his sadle bow.

He lights and seeks her, who like wolf among The bushes, couched in thicket, waits the roe; She without more delay from ambush sprung, As he drew near, and grappled fast the foe.

That wretched man, the volume by whose aid He all his battles fought, on earth had laid:

XXVI And ran to bind her with a chain, which he, Girt round about him for such a purpose, wore; Because he deemed she was no less to be Mastered and bound than those subdued before.

Him hath the dame already flung; by me Excused with reason, if he strove not more.

For fearful were the odds between that bold And puissant maid, and warrior weak and old!

XXVII Intending to behead the fallen foe, She lifts her conquering hand; but in mid s.p.a.ce, When she beholds his visage, stops the blow, As if disdaining a revenge so base.

She sees in him, her prowess has laid low, A venerable sire, with sorrowing face; Whose hair and wrinkles speak him, to her guess, Of years six score and ten, or little less.

XXVIII "Kill me, for love of G.o.d!" (afflicted sore, The old enchanter full of wrath did cry).

But the victorious damsel was not more Averse to kill, than he was bent to die.

To know who was the necromancer h.o.a.r The gentle lady had desire, and why The tower he in that savage place designed, Doing such outrage foul to all mankind.

XXIX "Nor I, by malice moved, alas! poor wight,"

(The weeping necromancer answer made,) "Built the fair castle on the rocky height, Nor yet for rapine ply the robber's trade; But only to redeem a gentle knight From danger sore and death, by love was swayed; Who, as the skies foreshow, in little season, Is doomed to die a Christian, and by treason.

x.x.x "The sun beholds not 'twixt the poles, a Child So excellent as him, and pa.s.sing fair; Who from his infancy, Rogero styled, (Atlantes I) was tutored by my care.

By love of fame and evil stars beguiled, He follows into France Troyano's heir.

Him, in my eyes, than son esteemed more dear, I seek to s.n.a.t.c.h from France and peril near.

x.x.xI "I only built the beauteous keep to be Rogero's dungeon, safely harboured there; Who whilom was subdued in fight by me, As I to-day had hoped thyself to snare, And dames and knights, and more of high degree, Have to this tower conveyed, his lot to share, That with such partners of his prison pent, He might the loss of freedom less lament.