LVII Poised in his stirrups stood the Tartar lord, And aiming at his foeman's casque, believed He with the stroke of his descending sword Rogero to the bosom should have cleaved; But from that youth, yet quicker in his ward, A wound beneath his arm the king received, Which made wide daylight in the stubborn mail, That clothed the better armpit with its scale.

LVIII Rogero drawing Balisarda back, Out sprang the tepid blood of crimson stain; Hence Mandricardo's arm did vigour lack, And with less dint descended Durindane: Yet on the croup the stripling tumbled back, Closing his eyelids, through excess of pain; And memorable aye had been that blow, Had a worse helmet clothed the warrior's brow.

LIX For this he pauses not, but spurs amain, And Mandricardo smites in the right side.

Here little boots the texture of the chain, And the well wealded metal's temper tried, Against that sword, which never falls in vain, Which was enchanted to no end beside, But that against it nothing should avail, Enchanted corselet or enchanted mail.

LX Whate'er that sword takes-in it shears outright, And in the Tartar's side inflicts a wound: He curses Heaven and raves in such despite, Less horribly the boisterous billows sound.

He now prepares to put forth all his might: The shield, with argent bird and azure ground, He hurls, with rage transported, from his hand, And grasps with right and left his trenchant brand.

LXI "Marry," (Rogero cried,) "it needs no more To prove your t.i.tle to that ensign vain, Which now you cast away, and cleft before; Nor can you more your right in it maintain."

So saying, he parforce must prove how sore The danger and the dint of Durindane; Which smites his front, and with such weight withal, A mountain lighter than that sword would fall.

LXII If cleft his vizor through the midst; 'twas well That from the sight diverged the trenchant blade, Which on the saddle's plated pommel fell; Nor yet its double steel the faulchion stayed: It reached his armour (like soft wax, the sh.e.l.l Oped, and the skirts wherewith 'twas overlaid) And trenched upon his thigh a grievous wound; So that 'twas long ere he again waxed sound.

LXIII The spouting blood of either cavalier Their arms had crimsoned in a double drain: Hence diversly the people guessed, which peer Would have the better of the warlike twain: But soon Rogero made the matter clear With that keen sword, so many a champion's bane: With this he at that part in fury past Whence Mandricardo had his buckler cast.

LXIV He the left side of his good cuira.s.s gored, And found a pa.s.sage to the heart below; Which a full palm above the flank he bored; So that parforce the Tartar must forego His every t.i.tle to the famous sword, The blazoned buckler, and its bird of snow, And yield, together with these seeds of strife, -- Dearer than sword and shield -- his precious life.

LXV Not unavenged the unhappy monarch dies; For in the very moment he is smit, The sword -- for little period his -- he plies, And good Rogero's vizor would have split.

But that he stopt the stroke in wary wise, And broke its force and vigour ere it lit; Its force and vigour broke: for he, below The better arm, first smote his Tartar foe.

LXVI Smit was the Child by Mandricardo's hand, At the same moment he that monarch slew: He, albeit thick, divides an iron band And good steel cap beneath it; inches two, Lies buried in the head the trenchant brand, The solid bone and sinew severed through.

Astound Rogero fell, on earth reversed, And from his head a stream of life-blood burst.

LXVII Rogero was the first who went to ground, And so much longer did the king delay, Nigh every one of those who waited round Weened he the prize and vaunt had borne away.

So, erred his Doralice, that oft was drowned In tears, and often clad in smiles that day: She thanked her G.o.d, with hands to Heaven extended, That in such wise the fearful fight had ended.

LXVIII But when by tokens manifest appear The live man living and the dead man slain, The favourers of those knights, with change of cheer, Some weep and some rejoice, an altered train.

King, lord, and every worthiest cavalier Crowd round Rogero, who has risen with pain.

Him to embrace and gratulate they wend, And do him grace and honour without end.

LXIX Each with Rogero is rejoiced, and feels That which he utters in his heart; among The crowd the Sericane alone conceals Other than what he vouches with his tongue.

He pleasure in his countenance reveals, With envy at the conquest inly stung; And -- were his destiny or chance to blame -- Curses whiche'er produced Rogero's name.

LXX What of Rogero's favour can be said?

What of caresses, many, true, and kind, From Agramant? that not without his aid Would have unrolled his ensigns the wind; Who had to move from Africk been afraid, Nor would have trusted in his host combined.

He, now King Mandricardo is no more, Esteems him the united world before.

LXXI Nor to Rogero lean the men alone; To him incline as well the female train, Who for the land of France had left their own, Amid the troops of Africk or of Spain; And Doralice, herself, although she moan, And for her lover, cold and pale, complain, Save by the griding curb of shame represt, Her voice, perchance, had added to the rest.

LXXII I say perchance, nor warrant it I dare, Albeit the thing may easily be true; For such his manners, such his merits are, So beauteous is Rogero's form to view, She (from experience we are well aware) So p.r.o.ne to follow whatsoe'er is new, That not to play the widow's lovelorn part, She on Rogero well might set her heart.

LXXIII Though he did well alive, what could be done With Mandricardo, after he was dead?

'Tis fitting she provide herself with one That her, by night or day, may bravely stead.

Meanwhile to young Rogero's succour run The king's physician in his art best read; Who, having seen the fruits of that fell strife, Already has ensured Rogero's life.

LXXIV Agramant bids them diligently lay The wounded warrior in his tent, and there Is evermore beside him, night and day; Him with such love he watches, with such care: To his bed the Tartar's arms and buckler gay, So bade the Moorish king, suspended were; Suspended all, save trenchant Durindana, Relinquished to the King of Sericana.

LXXV With Mandricardo's arms, his other weed Was to Rogero given, and given with these Was warlike Brigliador, whom on the mead Orlando left, distraught with his disease.

To Agramant Rogero gave the steed, Well knowing how that goodly gift would please.

No more of this: parforce my strain returns To her that vainly for Rogero burns.

LXXVI Bradamant's torment have I to recount, While for the courier damsel she did stay: With tidings of her love to Alban's Mount, To her Hippalca measured back her way: She of Frontino first and Rodomont, And next of good Rogero had to say; How to the fount anew he had addrest His way, with Richardetto and the rest;

LXXVII And how the Child, in rescue of the steed, Had gone with her to find the paynim rude; And weened to have chastized his foul misdeed, That from a woman took Frontino good.

And how the youth's design did ill succeed, Because the king had other way pursued.

The reason too why to Mount Alban's hold Rogero had not come, at full she told;

LXXVIII And fully she to Bradamant exprest What to excuse himself Rogero said: She after drew the letter from her breast, Wherewith entrusted she had thither sped: With visage which more care than hope confest, The paper Bradamant received and read; Which, but that she expected to have seen Rogero's self, more welcome would have been.

LXXIX To find herself with written scroll appaid In good Rogero's place, whom she attends, Marred her fair visage; which such fear pourtrayed, Despite and sorrow as her bosom rends.

Ten times the page she kisses, while the maid As oft to him who writes her heart commends: The tears alone which trickle from her eyes Keep it from kindling at her burning sighs.

Lx.x.x Four times, nay six, she that epistle read, And willed moreover that as many more The message by that damsel should be said, Who word and letter to Mount Alban bore.

This while unceasing tears the lady shed, Nor, I believe, would ever have given o'er, Save by the hope consoled, that she anew Should briefly her beloved Rogero view.

Lx.x.xI Rogero's word was pledged for his return When fifteen days or twenty were gone by: So had he after to Hippalca sworn, Bidding her boldly on his faith rely.

"From accidents that chance at every turn"

(Cried Bradamant) "what warranty have I, Alas! -- and such are commonest in war -- That none the knight's return for ever bar?

' Lx.x.xII "Alas! alas! Rogero, that above Myself hast evermore been prized by me, Who would have thought thou more than me could'st love Any, and most thy mortal enemy?

And harm'st where thou should'st help; nor do I see If thou as worthy praise or blame regard Such tardiness to punish and reward.

Lx.x.xIII "I know not if thou knowest -- the stones know -- How by Troyano was thy father slain; And yet Troyano's son, against his foe, Thou would'st defend, and keep from harm or stain Such vengeance upon him do'st thou bestow?

And do his vengers, as their meed obtain, That I, descended of his stock, should be The martyr of the mortal cruelty?"

Lx.x.xIV To her Rogero, in his absence, said The lady these sad words, and more beside, Lamenting aye; while her attendant maid Nor once alone, but often, certified The stripling would observe his faith, and prayed Her -- who could do no better -- to abide The Child's arrival till the time came round When he by promise to return was bound.

Lx.x.xV The comfort that Hippalca's words convey, And Hope, companion of the loving train, Bradamant's fear and sorrow so allay, That she enjoys some respite from her pain: This moves her in Mount Alban's keep to stay; Nor ever thence that lady stirred again Until the day, that day the youthful knight Had fixt, who ill observed his promise plight.

Lx.x.xVI But in that he his promise ill maintained, No blame upon Rogero should be cast; Him one or other cause so long detained, The appointed time parforce he overpast: On a sick bed, long time, he, sorely pained, Was laid, wherein a month or more he past In doubt of death; so deeply him had gored Erewhile in fight the Tartar monarch's sword.

Lx.x.xVII Him on the day prefixed the maid attended, Nor other tidings of the youth had read, But those he through Hippalca had commended, And that which after Richardetto said; Who told how him Rogero had defended, And freed the captive pair to prison led.

The tidings, overjoyed, she hears repeat; Yet blended with some bitter is the sweet.

Lx.x.xVIII For she had heard as well in that discourse, For might and beauty voiced, Marphisa's praise; Heard, how Rogero thither bends his course, Together with that lady, as he says, Where in weak post and with unequal force King Agramant the Christian army stays.

Such fair companionship the lady lauds, But neither likes that union nor applauds.

Lx.x.xIX Nor light suspicion has she of that queen: For, were Marphisa beauteous, as was said, And they together till that time had been, 'T were marvel but Rogero loved the maid: Yet would she not believe; but hung between Her hopes and fears, and in Mount Alban stayed; And close and anxious there, until the day Which was to bring her joy or sorrow, lay.

XC This while Mount Alban's prince and castellain, Rinaldo, first of that fair brotherhood, -- I say in honour, not in age, for twain In right of birth before the warrior stood, Who -- as the sun illumes the starry train -- Had by his deeds enn.o.bled Aymon's blood, One day at noon, with none beside a page To serve him, reached that famous fortilage.

XCI Hither had good Rinaldo now repaired; Because returning Paris ward again, From Brava, (whither had he often fared, As said, to seek Angelica in vain) He of that pair those evil news had heard.

His Malagigi and his Viviane, How they were to Maganza to be sent; And hence to Agrismont his way had bent.

XCII There, hearing of the safety of that pair, And of their enemies' defeat and fall; And how Rogero and Marphisa were The authors of their ruin; and how all His valiant brethren and his cousins are Returned, and harboured in Mount Alban's hall, Until he there embrace the friendly throng Each hour appears to him a twelvemonth long.

XCIII His course to Mont Albano had he ta'en; And, there embracing wife and children dear, Mother and brethren and the cousins twain, (They who were captives to their foe whilere) A parent swallow seems, amid that train, Which, with full beak, its fasting youth doth cheer.