In arms will make his martial prowess known, As for the rest, let doubtful victory Descend on him whom Heaven is pleased to own!

Upon the vanquished knight no blame shall fall, But we to Fortune will impute it all."

XXIII Rogero and Grada.s.so, at this say Of Agramant, stood silent, and agreed, That he whose lot first issued, the a.s.say Should undertake for both in listed mead.

Thus in two scrolls, inscribed in the same way, Their names are writ as destined to succeed.

These afterwards are cast into an urn, Which much they shake and topsy turvy turn.

XXIV A seely boy then dipt his hand and drew A billet from the vase, and if befel, Thereon Rogero's name the a.s.sistants knew; -- Grada.s.so's left behind -- I cannot tell How joyed renowned Rogero at the view, And can as little say what sorrow fell Upon Grada.s.so, on the other side; But he parforce his fortune must abide.

XXV Grada.s.so every thought and every deed Employs, Rogero to instruct and aid, That in the strife his champion may succeed; And teaches every sleight he has a.s.said: -- How best to manage sword and shield at need -- -- What strokes are feints, and what with vantage made -- And when he should tempt Fortune, when eschew -- Reminds him, one by one, in long review.

XXVI After the drawing lots and king's award, What of the day remained the champions spent As wont, in giving tokens of regard, To this or to that other warrior sent.

The people, greedy for the fight, toward The field is gone, and many not content With wending thither ere the dawn of light, Upon the place of combat watch all night.

XXVII The foolish rabble anxiously attends Those goodly champions' contest for the prize, A crowd which neither sees nor comprehends Other than that which is before its eyes.

But they who know what boots and what offends, -- Marsilius and Sobrino, and the wise -- Censure the fight, and monarch that affords A field of combat to those martial lords.

XXVIII Nor what a heavy loss he would sustain (Cease they to royal Agramant to read) Were Mandricardo or Rogero slain; A thing by cruel Destiny decreed.

Since they, to combat against Charlemagne, Of one of these alone have greater need Than of ten thousand more, amid which crew They scarce would find one champion good and true.

XXIX Agramant recognized this truth; but thought That ill his royal word could be repealed; Yet Mandricardo and the Child besought That they the right, conferred by him, would yield: More; that the question was a thing of nought, Nor worthy to be tried in martial field; And prayed them -- would they not obey his hest At least somewhile, to let their quarrel rest.

x.x.x Five or six months would they the strife delay, Or more or less, till Charles defeated were, And stript of mantle, crown, and royal sway.

But each, though he would willingly forbear, And much desired his sovereign to obey, Stood out against the Moorish monarch's prayer: Since either deemed he would be foully shent Who to this treaty first should yield consent.

x.x.xI But more than king, than all, who sought in vain To soften Agrican's infuriate son, The beauteous daughter of King Stordilane Lamented, besought him, woe-begone, Besought him he would do what all would fain Behold by the relenting warrior done; -- Lamenting her, as through the cavalier, For ever kept in agony and fear.

x.x.xII "Alas! and what (exclaims she) can I find Which may avail to minister repose, If aye, by this or that desire inclined, You don your harness to affront new foes?

What boots it to restore my hara.s.sed mind That I behold one fearful quarrel's close, Against one champion moved for love of me, If one as fierce already kindled be?

x.x.xIII "Woe worth me! I was proud, with little right, So good a king, so stout a cavalier For he should in the fierce and dangerous fight Peril his life, who now, I see to clear, Upon a ground of strife so pa.s.sing light, With the same risk prepares to couch the spear.

You, more than love for me, to strife impels The natural rage, wherewith your bosom swells.

x.x.xIV "But if the love you force yourself to show, Be in good earnest, that which you profess, By this I pray you, by that chastening woe Which does my spirit, does my heart oppress, Be not concerned, because the bird of snow Rogero, pictured on his shield, possess.

I know not wherefore you should joy or grieve That he the blazoned buckler bear or leave.

x.x.xV "Much evil may ensue and little gain Out of the battle you to wage prepare; Small guerdon will be bought with mickle pain If from Rogero you his eagle bear; But if your fortune shifts on listed plain, She whom you hold not captive by her hair, You cause an evil with such mischief fraught, My heart is broken at the simple thought.

x.x.xVI "If of small value life to you appear, And you esteem a painted bird more high, At least for my life's sake esteem yours dear; For one without the other shall not die.

With you to die excites in me no fear; With you, prepared for life or death am I: Yet would I fain not die so ill content, As I should die if you before me went."

x.x.xVII Accompanying words with tears and sighs, In such, or such like speech she him did pray, Throughout that livelong night, in piteous wise, Hoping her lover's anger to allay; And Mandricardo, sucking from her eyes Those sweet tears, glittering in their humid ray, And that sweet moan, from lips more deeply dyed Than crimson rose, himself in tears, replied.

x.x.xVIII "Alack! my dearest life! take thou no dread, Alack! for love of Heaven! of thing so light: For if (to my sole harm) with banners spread, Their following of the Frank or paynim rite King Agramant and Charles united led, This need not cause you matter for affright.

What poor account you make of me is clear If this one, sole, Rogero breeds such fear.

x.x.xIX "And yet should you remember how alone (Nor had I scimetar or sword in hand) Of knights, with a spear's truncheon overthrown, I singly cleared the field, an armed band.

Though to his shame and sorrow this he own, Grada.s.so tells to them who make demand, He was my prisoner in the Syrian tower: Yet other than Rogero's is his power.

XL "Not King Grada.s.so will the truth deny: Sacripant knows it and your Isolier: I say King Sacripant of Circa.s.sy, And Aquilant, and Gryphon, famous peer; With hundreds -- yea and more -- from far and nigh Made prisoners at that fearful pa.s.s whilere, Baptized or Infidel; and all by me From prison on the selfsame day set free.

XLI "And even yet they marvel evermore At the great feat which I performed that day; Greater than if the squadrons of the Moor And Frank united I had held at bay; And shall Rogero, new to martial lore, Me, onto to one, with scathe or scorn appay?

And me shall now this young Rogero scare, When Hector's sword and Hector's arms I wear?

XLII "Ah! as I might have won you from my foe, Why did I not for you in arms contend?

I so had them my valour shown, I know, You would have well foreseen Rogero's end.

For heaven's sake dry your tears, nor by such woe -- An evil omen for my arms -- offend; And learn, 'tis Honour p.r.i.c.ks me to the field, And not an argent bird and blazoned shield."

XLIII So said he; and with reasons pa.s.sing good To him that dame replied, with saddest face; Nor only would have changed his sullen mood, But would have moved a pillar from its place.

She would the champion quickly have subdued, Though she was gowned, he locked in iron case; And make him satisfy the Moorish lord, If Agramant spake further of accord;

XLIV And had; but that Aurora -- on his way Ushering aye the sun -- no sooner stirred, Than young Rogero, anxious to display That rightfully he bore Jove's beauteous bird, To cut the quarrel short, and lest delay Be further interposed, in act or word, Where round the palisade the people close, Appears in armour and his bugle blows.

XLV When that loud sound is by the Tartar heard, Which the proud warrior to the strife defies, No more of treaty will he hear a word: From bed upspringing, "Arms," the monarch cries, And shows a visage with such fury stirred, Doralice dares no longer peace advise, Nor speak of treaty or of truce anew; And now parforce the battle must ensue.

XLVI The Tartar arms himself in haste; with pain The wonted service of his squires he tarries: This done, he springs upon the steed amain, Erewhile the champion's who defended Paris; And him with speed towards the listed plain, Fixt for that fierce a.s.say, the courser carries.

Even then the king and barons thither made, So that the strife was little time delaid.

XLVII Put on and laced the shining helmets were, And given to either champion was the spear: Quickly the trumpet's blast was heard in air, Whose signal blanched a thousand cheeks with fear.

Levelled those cavaliers their lances bear, Spurring their warlike steeds to the career, And, in mid champaign, meet with such a shock, That Earth appears to rive and Heaven to rock.

XLVIII From this side and from that, the eagle flew, Which Jove in air was wonted to sustain; So hurtled, but with plumes of different hue, Those others often on Thessalian plain.

The beamy lances, rested by the two, Well warranted the warriors' might and main, And worse than that encounter had withstood: So towers resist the wind, so rocks the flood.

XLIX As Turpin truly writes, into the sky Upwent the splinters, broke in the career; For two or three fell flaming from on high, Which had ascended to the starry sphere.

The knights unsheathed their faulchions from the thigh, And, like those who were little moved by fear, For new encounter wheeled, and, man to man, Pointing at one another's vizor ran.

L They, pointing at the vizors' sight, attacked, Nor with their faulchions at the steeds took aim, Each other to unhorse, unseemly act!

Since in that quarrel they are nought to blame.

Those err, nor know the usage, why by pact Deem they were bound their horses not to maim: Without pact made, 'twas reckoned a misdeed, And an eternal blot to smite a steed.

LI They level at the vizor, which is double, And yet resists such mighty blows with pain.

The champions evermore their strokes redouble Faster than pattering hail, which mars the grain, And bruises branch and leaf, and stalk and stubble, And cheats the hopes of the expecting swain.

To you is known the force of either brand, And known the force of either warrior's hand.

LII But yet no stroke well worthy of their might Those peers have dealt, so cautious are the twain.

The Tartar's faulchion was the first to bite, By which was good Rogero well nigh slain.

By one of those fell blows which either knight So well could plant, his shield was cleft in twain; Beneath, his cuira.s.s opened to the stroke, And to the quick the cruel weapon broke.

LIII The a.s.sistants' hearts were frozen at the blow, So did Rogero's danger them appal, On whom the many's favor, well they know, And wishes rest, if not of one and all.

And then (had Fortune ordered matters so, As the most part desired they should befall) Taken had been the Tartar king or slain; So had that blow offended all the train.

LIV I think that blow was by some angel stayed, To save Rogero from the mischief near: Yet at the king (nor answer he delayed) He dealt a stroke more terrible than e'er.

As Mandricardo's head he aims his blade, But such the fury of the cavalier, And such his haste, he less my blame deserves, If slanting from the mark his faulchion swerves.

LV Had Balisarda smote him full, though crowned With Hector's helm, the enchantment had been vain.

So reels the Tartar, by that stroke astound, He from the bristle-hand lets go the rein: Thrice with his head he threats to smite the ground, While his unguided courser scowers the plain; That Brigliadoro, whom by name you know, Yet, for his change of master, full of woe.

LVI Never raged trampled serpent, never so Raged wounded lion, as in fell despite Raged Mandricardo, rallying from that blow, Which had deprived of sense the astonied knight; And as his pride and fury waxes, grow As much, yea more, his valour and his might.

He at Rogero makes his courser vault, With sword uplifted high for the a.s.sault.