Books: Orlando Furioso

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XXXIX
Rinaldo seeking out the sage anew
For his reply -- he would dissuade the knight
From loving more that Indian lady, who
Now waited on a vile barbarian wight;
And was so distant he could ill pursue;
If he would chase the damsel on her flight,
Who must have measured than half her way
Homeward, with young Medoro to Catay.

XL
In that bold lover no displeasure deep
The journey of Angelica would move;
Nor yet would mar or break the warrior's sleep
To think that he again must eastward rove:
But that a stripling Saracen should reap
The first fruits of that faithless lady's love
In him such passion bred, such heart-ache sore,
He never in his life so grieved before.

XLI
No power hath he to make one sole reply;
His heart, his lip, is quivering with disdain;
His tongue no word is able to untie;
His mouth is bitter, and 'twould seem with bane.
He flung from the magician suddenly,
And, as by fury stirred and jealous pain,
He after mighty plaint and mighty woe
Resolved anew to eastern realms to go.

XLII
Licence he asks of Pepin's royal son,
Upon the ground, since with his courser dear
To Sericane is King Gradasso gone,
Against the use of gallant cavalier,
Him honour moves the selfsame course to run,
In the end he may prevent the paynim peer
From ever vaunting, that with sword or lance
He took him from a Paladin of France.

XLIII
Charles gives him leave to go; though, far and nigh,
With him all France laments he thence should wend;
But he in fine that prayer can ill deny,
So honest seems the worthy warrior's end.
Him Dudon, Guido, would accompany;
But he refuses either valiant friend:
From Paris he departs, and wends alone,
Plunged in his grief and heaving many a groan.

XLIV
Ever in memory dwells the restless thought,
He might a thousand times have had the fair;
And -- mad and obstinate -- had, when besought,
A thousand times refused such beauty rare;
And such sweet joy was whilom set at nought,
Such bright, such blessed moments wasted were;
And now he life would gladly give away
To have that damsel but for one short day.

XLV
The thought will never from his mind depart,
How for a sorry footpage she could slight,
-- Flinging their merit and their love apart --
The service of each former loving wight.
Vext by such thought, which racked and rent his heart,
Rinaldo wends towards the rising light:
He the straight road to Rhine and Basle pursued,
Till he arrived in Arden's mighty wood.

XLVI
When within that adventurous wood has hied
For many a mile Montalban's cavalier,
Of lonely farm or lordly castle wide,
Where the rude place was roughest and most drear,
The sky disturbed he suddenly descried,
He saw the sun's dimmed visage disappear,
And spied forth issuing from a cavern hoar
A monster, which a woman's likeness wore.

XLVII
A thousand lidless eyes are in her head:
She cannot close them, nor, I think, doth sleep:
She listens with as many ears, and spread
Like hair, about her forehead serpents creep.
Forth issued into day that figure dread
From devilish darkness and the caverned deep.
For tail, a fierce and bigger serpent wound
About her breast, and girt the monster round.

XLVIII
What in a thousand, thousand quests had ne'er
Befal'n Rinaldo, here befel the knight;
Who, when he sees the horrid form appear,
Coming to seek him and prepared for fight,
Feels in his inmost veins such freezing fear,
As haply never fell on other wight;
Yet wonted daring counterfeits and feigns,
And with a trembling hand the faulchion strains.

XLIX
The monster so the fierce assault did make
Therein her master was well descried,
It might be said; she shook a poisonous snake,
And now on this, now on the other side,
Leapt at the knight; at her Rinaldo strake
Ever meanwhile with random blows and wide;
With forestroke, backstroke, he assails the foe;
He often smites, but never plants a blow.

L
The monster threw a serpent at his breast,
That froze his heart beneath its iron case:
Now through the vizor flung the poisonous pest,
Which crept about his collar and his face.
Dismaid, Rinaldo fled the field, and prest
With all his spurs his courser through the chase:
But not behind the hellish monster halts,
Who in a thought upon the crupper vaults.

LI
Wend where the warrior will, an-end or wide,
Ever with him is that accursed Pest:
Nor knows he how from her to be untied,
Albeit his courser plunges without rest.
Like a leaf quakes his heart within his side,
Not that the snakes in other mode molest,
But they such horror and such loathing bred,
He shrieks, he groans, and gladly would be dead.

LII
By gloomiest track and blindest path he still
Threaded the tangled forest here and there;
By thorniest valley and by roughest hill,
And wheresoever darkest was the air;
Thus hoping to have rid him of that ill,
Hideous, abominable, poisonous Care;
Beneath whose gripe he foully might have fared,
But that one quickly to his aid repaired.

LIII
But aid, and in good time, a horseman bore,
Equipt with arms of beauteous steel and clear:
For crest, a broken yoke the stranger wore;
Red flames upon his yellow shield appear:
So was the courser's housing broidered o'er,
As the proud surcoat of the cavalier.
His lance he grasped, his sword was in its place,
And at his saddle hung a burning mace.

LIV
That warrior's mace a fire eternal fills,
Whose lasting fuel ever blazes bright;
And goodly buckler, tempered corslet thrills,
And solid helm; then needs the approaching knight
Must make him way, wherever 'tis his will
To turn his inextinguishable light.
Nor of less help in need Rinaldo stands,
To save him from the cruel monster's hands.

LV
The stranger horseman, like a warrior bold,
Where he that hubbub hears, doth thither swoop,
Until he sees the beast, whose snakes enfold
Rinaldo, linked in many a loathsome loop,
Who sweats at once with heat and quakes with cold,
Nor can he thrust the monster from his croup.
Arrived the stranger smote her in the flank,
Who on the near side of the courser sank:

LVI
But scarcely was on earth extended, ere
She rose and shook her snakes in volumed spire.
The knight no more assails her with the spear;
But is resolved to plague the foe with fire:
He gripes the mace and thunders in her rear
With frequent blows, like tempest in its ire;
Nor leaves a moment to that monster fell
To strike one stroke in answer, ill or well;

LVII
And, while he chases her or holds at bay,
Smites her and venges many a foul affront,
Counsels the paladin, without delay,
To take the road which scales the neighbouring mount:
He took that proffered counsel and that way,
And without stop, or turning back his front,
Pricked furiously till he was out of sight;
Though hard to clamber was the rugged height.

LVIII
The stranger, when he to her dark retreat
Had driven from upper light that beast of hell
(Where she herself doth ever gnaw and eat,
While from her thousand eyes tears ceaseless well)
Followed the knight, to guide his wandering feet;
And overtook him on the highest swell;
Then placed himself beside the cavalier
Him from those dark and gloomy parts to steer.

LIX
When him returned beheld Montalban's knight,
That countless thanks were due to him, he said,
And that at all times, as a debt of right,
His life should be for his advantage paid.
Of him he next demands, how he is hight,
That he may know and tell who brought him aid;
And among worthy warriors, and before
King Charles, exalt his prowess evermore.

LX
The stranger answered: "Let it irk not thee
That I not now my name to thee display;
Ere longer by a yard the shadows be,
This will I signify; a short delay."
Wending together, they a river see
Whose murmurs woo the traveller from his way,
And shepherd-swain, by whiles, to their green brink;
There an oblivion of their love to drink.

LXI
My lord, that fountain's chilling stream and clear
Extinguished love; Angelica of yore
Drinking thereof, for good Montalban's peer
Conceived that hate she nourished evermore;
And if she once displeased the cavalier,
And he to her such passing hatred bore,
For this no other cause occasion gave,
My lord, save drinking of this chilly wave.

LXII
Arriving at that limpid river's side,
The cavalier that with Rinaldo goes,
Reined-in his courser, how with toil, and cried,
"Here 'twere not ill, meseemeth, to repose."
-- "It cannot but be well" (the peer replied),
"Because, beside that mid-day fiercely glows,
I have so suffered from that hideous Pest,
As sweet and needful shall I welcome rest."

LXIII
Upon the green sward lit the martial two,
While their loose horses through the forest fed;
And from their brows the burnished helmets threw
On that flowered herbage, yellow, green, and red.
Rinaldo to the liquid crystal flew,
By heat and thirst unto the river sped;
And with one draught of that cold liquid drove
Out of his burning bosom thirst and love.

LXIV
Whenas Rinaldo, sated with the draught,
Raising his head the stranger knight espied,
And saw that he, repentant, every thought
Of that so frantic love had put aside,
He reared himself, and said with semblance haught
That which he would not say before, and cried:
"Rinaldo, know that I am hight Disdain,
Bound hither but to break thy worthless chain."

LXV
So saying, suddenly he passed from sight;
With him his horse: this in Rinaldo bred
Much wonderment; and the astonished knight,
"Where is he?" gazing round about him, said.
He cannot guess if 'twere a magic sprite,
A fiend by Malagigi thither sped,
From those his ministers, to break the chain,
Fettered whereby he lived so long in pain;

LXVI
Of if an angel from the heavenly sphere
In his ineffable goodness by the Lord,
Dispatched, as to Tobias's aid whilere,
A medicine for his blindness to afford.
But good or evil angel -- whatsoe'er
He was that him to liberty restored --
Him thanked and praised Rinaldo, for a heart
Healed only by his help of amorous smart.

LXVII
Old hate revived upon Rinaldo's side;
Nor he alone unworthy to be wooed,
The damsel deemed by pilgrimage so wide
Her half a league he would not have pursued.
Nathless anew Baiardo to bestride
To Sericane would go that warrior good:
As well because his honour him compelled,
As for the talk which he with Charles had held.

LXVIII
He pricked to Basle upon the following day,
Whither the tidings had arrived before:
That Count Orlando was, in martial fray,
To meet Gradasso and the royal Moor:
Nor through Orlando was divulged that say:
But one, who crost from the Sicilian shore,
And thither had, in haste, the journey made,
As certain news, the tidings had conveyed.

LXIX
Rinaldo had gladly been at Roland's side,
And from that battle far himself doth see:
Every ten miles he changes horse and guide,
And whips and spurs, and makes his courser flee.
He crost the Rhine at Constance, forward hied,
He traversed Alp, arrived in Italy,
He left Verona, Mantua, in his rear,
And reached and past the Po, with swift career.

LXX
Much towards eve already sloped the sun,
And the first star was glimmering in the sky,
When, doubting on the bank if he shall run
Another course, or in some hostel lie
Until the shades of night and vapours dun
Before Aurora's beauteous visage fly,
A cavalier approaching him he viewed,
Who courtesy in face and semblance shewed.

LXXI
He, after greeting him, if he were tied
In wedlock, made in gentle wise demand.
Rinaldo, wondering what the quest implied,
Made answer: "I am bound in nuptial band."
-- "I joy thereat," the cavalier replied;
Then, that he might this saying understand,
Added, "I pray that you, sir knight, within
My mansion will this eve be pleased to inn.

LXXII
"For I will make you see what must please
A wight" (pursued the stranger) "that is wed."
Rinaldo, as well that he would take his ease,
-- But this, with so long posting sore bested --
As that to see and hear strange novelties
By natural desire he still was led,
His offer takes, and enters a new road,
Following that cavalier to his abode.

LXXIII
A bowshot from the way diverged the two,
And a great palace fronting them descried:
Whence squires with blazing lights (a numerous crew)
Issued, and chased the darkness far and wide.
Entering, his eyes around Rinaldo threw,
And saw a place, whose like is seldom spied,
Of beauteous fabric, and well ordered plan;
Nor such huge cost befitted private man.

LXXIV
Of serpentine and of hard porphyry are
The stones which form the gateway's arch above.
Of bronze the portal leaves, which figures bear,
Whose lively features seem to breathe and move.
Beneath the vaulted entry, colours rare
Cheating the eye, in mixt mosaic strove,
The quadrangle within was galleried,
And of a hundred yards, on every side.

LXXV
A gateway is there to each galleried row,
And, twixt it and that gate, an arch is bent;
Of equal breadth, but different in their show,
For the architect had spared not ornament.
Each arch an entrance was; up which might go
A laden horse; so easy the ascent.
To arch above leads every stair withal,
And every arch is entrance to a hall.

LXXVI
Above, project the arches in such sort,
They for the spacious portals form a shade;
And each two pillars has for its support:
Of bronze are some, and some of marble made.
The ornamented chambers of the court
Too many are to be at length displayed;
With easements, which (beside what is in sight)
The skilful master underground had dight.

LXXVII
Tall columns, with their capitals of gold,
Which gemmed entablatures support in air;
Exotic marbles engraved with figures fair;
Picture and cast, and works so manifold,
Albeit by night they mostly hidden were,
Showed that two kings' united treasure ne'er
Would have sufficed such gorgeous pile to rear.

LXXVIII
Above the beauteous ornaments and rich
That mingled in that gay quadrangle meet,
There is a fresh and plenteous fountain, which
Scatters in many threads its watery sheet,
'Tis here that youths at equal distance pitch,
I' the middle, tables for the festive treat.
Whence they four gates of that rich mansion see,
And seen from those four gates as well may be.

LXXIX
By cunning master, diligent and wise,
With much and subtle toil, the fount was made:
In open gallery or pavilion's guise;
Which from eight separate fronts, projects a shade.
A gilded roof, which with enamelled dyes
Was stained below, the building overlayed.
Eight marble statues (snowy was the grain),
With the left arm that gilded roof sustain.

LXXX
Fair Amalthaea's horn in the right hand
Had quaintly sculptured the ingenious master,
Whence water, trickling forth with murmur bland,
Descends into a vase of alabaster;
And he, in likeness of a lady grand,
With sovereign art had fashioned each pilaster.
Various they were in visage and in vest,
But all of equal charms and grace possest.

LXXXI
Upon two beauteous images below
Each of these female statues fix their feet.
The lower seem with open mouth to show
That song and harmony to them are sweet;
And, by their attitude, 'twould seem, as though
Their every work and every study meet
In praising them, they on their shoulders bear,
As they would those whose likenesses they wear.

LXXXII
The images below them in their hand
Long scrolls and of an ample size contain,
Which of the worthiest figures of that band
The several names with mickle praise explain
As well their own at little distance stand,
Inscribed upon that scroll, in letters plain,
Rinaldo, by the help of blazing lights,
Marked, one by one, the ladies and their knights.

LXXXIII
The first inscription there which meets the eye
Recites at length Lucretia Borgia's fame,
Whom Rome should place, for charms and chastity,
Above that wife who whilom bore her name.
Strozza and Tebaldeo -- Anthony
And Hercules -- support the honoured dame:
(So says the scroll): for tuneful strain, the pair
A very Linus and an Orpheus are.

LXXXIV
A statue no less jocund, no less bright,
Succeeds, and on the writing is impressed;
Lo! Hercules' daughter, Isabella hight,
In whom Ferrara deems her city blest,
Much more because she first shall see the light
Within its circuit, than for all the rest
Which kind and favouring Fortune in the flow
Of rolling years, shall on that town bestow.

LXXXV
The pair that such desirous ardour shew
That aye her praises should be widely blown:
John James alike are named: of those fair two,
One is Calandra, one is Bardelon.
In the third place, and fourth, where trickling through
Small rills, the water quits that octagon,
Two ladies are there, equal in their birth,
Equal in country, honour, charms and worth.

LXXXVI
One was Elizabeth, one Eleanor,
And if we credit what that marble said,
Manto's so glorious city which such store
Sets my melodious Maro, whom she bred,
More vaunts not him, nor reverences more,
Than these fair dames her poet's honoured head.
The first of these her hallowed feet had set
On Peter Bembo and James Sadolet.

LXXXVII
Arelio and Castiglion, a polished pair,
That other lady, in mid air, sustain.
Their names were carved upon the marble fair,
Then both unknown, and now so fames a twain.
Next was a lady, that from Heaven shall heir
As mighty virtue as on earth doth reign,
Or ever yet hath reigned, in any age,
Well proved by Fortune in her love or rage.

LXXXVIII
Inscribed in characters of gold is here
Lucretia Bentivoglia, and among
Her praises, 'tis declared Ferrara's peer
Joys that such daughter doth to him belong.
Her shall Camillus voice, and far and near
Reno and Felsina shall hear his song,
Wrapt in as mighty wonder at the strain
As that wherewith Amphrysus heard his swain;

LXXXIX
And one, through whom that city's name (where sweet
Isaurus salts his wave in larger vase)
Fame shall from Africa to Ind repeat,
From southern tracts to Hyperborean ways,
More than because Rome's gold in that famed seat
Was weighed, whereof perpetual record says
Guy Posthumus -- about whose honoured brow
Phoebus and Pallas bind a double bough.

XC
Dian is next in order of that train.
"Regard not (said the marble) is she wear
A haughty port; for in her heart, humane
The matron is, as in her visage, fair.
Learned Celio Calcagnine in lofty strain
Her glories and fair name abroad shall bear,
And Juba's and Moneses' kingdom hear,
And Spain and farthest Ind, his trumpet clear;

XCI
And a Cavallo shall make such a font
Of poetry in famed Ancona run,
As that winged courser on Parnassus' mount;
Or was it on the hill of Helicon?
'Tis Beatrice, who next uprears her front,
Whereof so speaks the writing on the stone:
"Her consort Beatrice, while she has breath,
Blesses, and leaves unhappy at her death;

XCII
"Yea, Italy; that with her triumphs bright,
Without that lady fair shall captive be."
A lofty song appears of her to indite
A lord of the Correggio's noble tree;
And, Benedeo's pride, Timotheus hight.
Between his banks, descending to the sea,
By their joint music shall the stream be stopt,
Whose trees erewhile the liquid amber dropt.

XCIII
Between this and that lofty column's place
Into fair Borgia fashioned (as was said)
Of aspect so distinguished, of such grace,
A lady was, of alabaster made,
That, hiding in a simple veil her face,
In sable, without gems or gold arraid,
She, 'mid the brightest, flung her light as far,
As amid lesser fires the Cyprian star.

XCIV
None knows, observing her with steadfast view,
If she of charms or grace have fuller store,
Whether her visage most majestic shew,
Or beam with genius or with beauty more.
"He that would speak -- would speak her praises true --
(Declares in fine the sculptured marble's lore)
The fairest of emprizes would intend,
But never bring his noble task to end."

XCV
Albeit such grace and passing sweetness shewed
Her fair and well wrought image, she disdain
Appeared to nurse, that one of wit so rude
Should dare to sing her praise in humble strain,
As he that only without comrade stood,
I know not why, her statue to sustain,
The marble all those other names revealed.
That pair's alone the artist had concealed.

XCVI
The statues in the middle form a round,
The floor whereof dry stalks of coral pave;
Most pleasant, cool, and grateful, is that ground;
So rendered by the pure and crystal wave.
Which vent without in other channel found;
And issued forth in many a stream, to lave
A mead of azure, white, and yellow hue;
Gladdening the plants that on their margins grew.

XCVII
Conversing with his courteous host, the peer
Sate at the board, and oft and often prayed,
That without more delay the cavalier
Would keep the promise he whilere had made;
And marking, ever and anon, his cheer,
Observes his heart with some deep woe downweighed.
For not a moment 'mid their converse slips,
But what a burning sigh is on his lips.

XCVIII
Oft with desire was good Rinaldo stung
To ask that sorrow's cause, and the request
Was almost on the gentle warrior's tongue,
And there by courteous modesty represt.
Now at their banquet's close a youth, among
The menial crew, on whom that charge did rest,
Placed a gold cup before the paladin,
Filled full of gems without, of wine within.

XCIX
The host then somedeal smiling, from the board
Looked up at Aymon's son; but who this while
Well marked him, as he eyed Montalban's lord,
Had deemed him more disposed to weep than smile.
"So oft reminded, to maintain my word,
'Tis time meseems (said he, that owned the pile)
To shew the touchstone for a woman's love,
Which needs to wedded man must welcome prove.

C
"Ne'er, in my judgment, should the married dame
Be from espial by her lord released;
Thus shall he know if honour or if blame
His portion is; if he is man or beast.
The weight of horns, though coupled with such shame,
Is of all burdens upon the earth the least.
While well-nigh all behold his antlers spread,
He feels them not who has them on his head.

CI
"If certain of thy wife's fidelity,
Thou hast more ground to prize and hold her dear
Than one, whose wife is evil known to be,
Or husband that is still in doubt and fear.
Full many husbands live in jealousy,
And groundlessly, of women chaste and clear.
On many women many men rely
Meanwhile, who bear their branching antlers high.

CII
"If thou would'st be assured thy wife is true
(As sure methinks thou thinkest and must think)
For it is hard that notion to undo,
Unless thy trust before sure tokens sink,
-- No hearsay matter this -- thyself shalt view
The truth, if thou in this fair vessel drink,
Placed solely on the supper-board, that thou
May'st see the marvel promised thee but now.

CIII
"Drink, and a mighty marvel shall be seen;
For if thou wearest Cornwall's lofty crest,
No drop of wine shall pass thy lips between,
And all the draught be spilt upon thy breast.
If faithful is thy wife, thou shalt drink clean.
And now -- to try thy fortune -- to the test!"
He said, and with fixt eyes the sign explored;
If on his breast the wine Rinaldo poured.

CIV
Rinaldo was nigh moved the cup to raise,
And seek what he would haply wish unsought:
Forward he reached his hand and took the vase,
About to prove his fortune in the draught.
Then of the passing peril of the case,
Before it touched his lips, the warrior thought.
But let me, sir, repose myself, and I
Will then relate the Paladin's reply.

CANTO 43

ARGUMENT
Rinaldo from his courteous landlord hears
What folly had destroyed his every good;
Next learns another story, as he steers
Toward Ravenna with the falling flood:
Then last arrives where, conqueror o'er his foes
Orlando was, but in no joyful mood.
He, that the Child a Christian made whilere,
Christens Sobrino, and heals Olivier.

I
O Execrable avarice! O vile thirst
Of sordid gold! it doth not me astound
So easily thou seizest soul, immersed
In baseness, or with other taint unsound;
But that thy chain should bind, amid the worst,
And that thy talon should strike down and wound
One that for loftiness of mind would be
Worthy all praise, if he avoided thee.

II
Some earth and sea and heaven above us square,
Know Nature's causes, works, and properties;
What her beginnings, what her endings are;
And soar till Heaven is open to their eyes:
Yet have no steadier aim, no better care,
Stung by thy venom, than, in sordid wise,
To gather treasure: such their single scope,
Their every comfort, and their every hope.

III
Armies by him are broken in his pride,
And gates of warlike towns in triumph past:
The foremost he to breast the furious tide
Of fearful battle; to retire the last;
Yet cannot save himself from being stied
Till death, in thy dark dungeon prisoned fast.
Of others that would shine thou dimm'st the praise;
Whom other studies, other arts would raise.

IV
What shall of high and beauteous dames be said?
Who (from their lovers' worth and charms secure)
Against long service, I behold, more staid,
More motionless, than marble shafts, endure:
Then Avarice comes, who so her spells hath laid,
I see them stoop directly to her lure.
-- Who could believe? -- unloving, in a day
They fall some elder's, fall some monster's prey.

V
Not without reason here I raise this cry:
-- Read me who can, I read myself -- nor so
I from the beaten pathway tread awry,
Nor thus the matter of my song forego.
Not more to what is shown do I apply
My saying, than to what I have to show.
But now return we to the paladine,
Who was about to taste the enchanted wine.