Books: Orlando Furioso

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XCV
Into the power o' the Bulgars many fall,
Stalin from the hill-top to the river-side;
And they into their hands had fallen all,
But for the river's intervening tide.
From the bridge many drop, and drown withal;
And many that ne'er turned their heads aside,
Thence to a distant ford for safety made;
And many were dragged prisoners to Belgrade.

XCVI
When done was that day's fight, wherein (since borne
To ground the Bulgar king his life did yield)
His squadrons would have suffered scathe and scorn,
Had not for them the warrior won the field,
The warrior, that the snowy unicorn
Wore for his blazon on a crimson shield,
To him all flock, in him with joy and glee
The winner of that glorious battle see.

XCVII
Some bow and some salute him; of the rest
Some kist the warrior's feet, and some his hand.
Round him as closely as they could they prest,
And happy those are deemed, that nearest stand;
More those that touch him; for to touch a blest
And supernatural thing believes the band.
On him with shouts that rent the heavens they cried,
To be their king, their captain, and their guide.

XCVIII
As king or captain them will he command
As liked them best, he said, but will not lay
On sceptre or on leading-staff his hand;
Nor yet Belgrade will enter on that day:
For first, ere farther flies young Leo's band,
And they across the river make their way,
Him will he follow, nor forego, until
That Grecian leader he o'ertake and kill.

XCIX
A thousand miles and more for this alone
He thither measured, and for nought beside.
He saith; and from the multitude is gone,
And by a road that's shown to him doth ride.
For towards the bridge is royal Leo flown;
Haply lest him from this the foe divide:
Behind him pricks Rogero with such fire,
The warrior calls not, nor awaits, his squire.

C
Such vantage Leo has in flight (to flee
He rather may be said than to retreat)
The passage open hath he found and free;
And then destroys the bridge and burns his fleet.
Rogero arrived not, till beneath the sea
The sun was hid; nor lodging found; his beat
He still pursued; and now shone forth the moon:
But town or village found the warrior none.

CI
Because he wots not where to lodge, he goes
All night, nor from his load Frontino frees.
When the new sun his early radiance shows,
A city to the left Rogero sees;
And there all day determines to repose,
As where he may his wearied courser ease,
Whom he so far that livelong night had pressed;
Nor had he drawn his bit, nor given him rest.

CII
Ungiardo had that city in his guard,
Constantine's liegeman, and to him right dear;
Who, since upon the Bulgars he had warred,
Much horse and foot had sent that emperor; here
Now entered (for the entrance was not barred)
Rogero, and found such hospitable cheer,
He to fare further had no need, in trace
Of better or of more abundant place.

CIII
In the same hostelry with him a guest
Was lodged that evening a Romanian knight;
Present what time the Child with lance in rest
Succoured the Bulgars in that cruel fight;
Who hardly had escaped his hand, sore prest
And scared as never yet was living wight;
So that he trembled still, disturbed in mind,
And deemed the knight of the unicorn behind.

CIV
He by the buckler knew as soon as spied
The cavalier, whose arms that blazon bear,
For him that routed the Byzantine side;
By hand of whom so many slaughtered were.
He hurried to the palace, and applied
For audience, weighty tidings to declare;
And, to Ungiardo led forthwith, rehearsed
What shall by men in other strain be versed.

CANTO 45

ARGUMENT
Young Leo doth from death Rogero free;
For him Rogero Bradamant hath won,
Making that maid appear less strong to be,
Disguised in fight like Leo; and, that done,
Straight in despite would slay himself; so he
By sorrow, so by anguish is foredone.
To hinder Leo of his destined wife
Marphisa works, and kindles mighty strife.

I
By how much higher we see poor mortal go
On Fortune's wheel, which runs a restless round,
We so much sooner see his head below
His heels; and he is prostrate on the ground.
The Lydian, Syracusan, Samian show
This truth, and more whose names I shall not sound;
All into deepest dolour in one day
Hurled headlong from the height of sovereign sway.

II
By how much more deprest on the other side,
By how much more the wretch is downwards hurled,
He so much sooner mounts, where he shall ride,
If the revolving wheel again be twirled.
Some on the murderous block have well-nigh died,
That on the following day have ruled the world.
Ventidius, Servius, Marius this have shown
In ancient days; King Lewis in our own;

III
King Lewis, stepfather of my duke's son;
Who, when his host at Santalbino fled,
Left in his clutch by whom that field was won,
Was nigh remaining shorter by the head.
Nor long before the great Corvinus run
A yet more fearful peril, worse bested:
Both throned, when overblown was their mischance,
One king of Hungary, one king of France.

IV
'Tis plain to sight, through instances that fill
The page of ancient and of modern story,
That ill succeeds to good, and good to ill;
That glory ends in shame, and shame in glory;
And that man should not trust, deluded still,
In riches, realm, or field of battle, gory
With hostile blood, nor yet despair, for spurns
Of Fortune; since her wheel for ever turns.

V
Through that fair victory, when overthrown
Were Leo and his royal sire, the knight
Who won that battle to such trust is grown,
In his good fortune and his peerless might,
He, without following, without aid, alone
(So is he prompted by his daring sprite)
Thinks, mid a thousand squadrons in array,
-- Footmen and horsemen -- sire and son to slay.

VI
But she, that wills no trust shall e'er be placed
In her by man, to him doth shortly show,
How wight by her is raised, and how abased;
How soon she is a friend, how soon a foe;
She makes him know Rogero, that in haste
Is gone to work that warrior shame and woe;
The cavalier, which in that battle dread
With much ado had from his faulchion fled.

VII
He to Ungiardo hastens to declare
The Child who put the imperial host to flight,
Whose carnage many years will not repair,
Here past the day and was to pass the night;
And saith, that Fortune, taken by the hair,
Without more trouble, and without more fight,
Will, if he prisons him, the Bulgars bring
Beneath the yoke and lordship of his king.

VIII
Ungiardo from the crowd, which had pursued
Thither their flight from the ensanguined plain,
For, troop by troop, a countless multitude
(Arrived, because not all the bridge could gain)
Knew what a cruel slaughter had ensued:
For there the moiety of the Greeks was slain;
And knew that by a cavalier alone
One host was saved, and one was overthrown;

IX
And that undriven he should have made his way
Into the net, and of his own accord,
Wondered, and showed his pleasure, at the say
In visage, gesture, and in joyful word.
He waited till Rogero sleeping lay;
Then softly sent his guard to take that lord;
And made the valiant Child, who had no dread
Of such a danger, prisoner in his bed.

X
By his own shield accused, that witness true,
The Child is captive in Novogorood,
To Ungiardo, worst among the cruel, who
Marvellous mirth to have that prisoner shewed.
And what, since he was naked, could he do,
Bound, while his eyes were yet by slumber glued?
A courier, who the news should quickly bear,
Ungiardo bids to Constantine repair.

XI
Constantine on that night with all his host,
Raising his camp, from Save's green shore had gone:
With this in Beleticche he takes post,
Androphilus', his sister's husband's town,
Father of him, whose arms in their first joust
(As if of wax had been his habergeon)
Had pierced and carved the puissant cavalier,
Now by Ungiardo pent in dungeon drear.

XII
Here from attack the emperor makes assure
The city walls and gates on every side;
Lest, from the Bulgar squadrons ill secure,
Having so good a warrior for their guide,
His broken Grecians worse than fear endure;
Deeming the rest would by his hand have died.
Now he is taken, these breed no alarms;
Nor would he fear the banded world in arms.

XIII
The emperor, swimming in a summer sea,
Knows not for very pleasure what to do:
"Truly the Bulgars may be said to be
Vanquished," he cries, with bold and cheerful brow.
As he would feel assured of victory,
That had of either arm deprived his foe;
So the emperor was assured, and so rejoiced,
When good Rogero's fate the warrior voiced.

XIV
No less occasion has the emperor's son
For joying; for besides that he anew
Trusts to acquire Belgrade, and tower and town
Throughout the Bulgars' country to subdue,
He would by favours make the knight his own,
And hopes to rank him in his warlike crew:
Nor need he envy, guarded by his blade,
King Charles', Orlando's, or Rinaldo's aid.

XV
Theodora was by other thoughts possest,
Whose son was killed by young Rogero's spear;
Which through his shoulders, entering at his breast,
Issued a palm's breadth in the stripling's rear;
Constantine's sister she, by grief opprest,
Fell down before him; and with many a tear
That dropt into her bosom, while she sued,
His heart with pity softened and subdued.

XVI
"I still before these feet will bow my knee,
Save on this felon, good my lord," (she cried)
"Who killed my son, to venge me thou agree,
Now that we have him in our hold; beside
That he thy nephew was, thou seest how thee
He loved; thou seest what feats upon thy side
That warrior wrought; thou seest if thou wilt blot
Thine own good name, if thou avenge him not.

XVII
"Thou seest how righteous Heaven by pity stirred
From the wide champaign, red with Grecian gore,
Bears that fell man; and like a reckless bird
Into the fowler's net hath made him soar;
That for short season, for revenge deferred,
My son may mourn upon the Stygian shore.
Give me, my lord, I pray, this cruel foe,
That by his torment I may soothe my woe."

XVIII
So well she mourns; and in such moving wise
And efficacious doth she make lament;
(Nor from before the emperor will arise,
Though he three times and four the dame has hent,
And to uplift by word and action tries)
That he is forced her wishes to content;
And thus, according to her prayer, commands
The Child to be delivered to her hands;

XIX
And, not therein his orders to delay,
They take the warrior of the unicorn
To cruel Theodora; but one day
Of respite has the knight: to have him torn
In quarters, yet alive; to rend and slay
Her prisoners publicly with shame and scorn,
Seems a poor pain; and he must undergo
Other unwonted and unmeasured woe.

XX
At the commandment of that woman dread,
Chains on his neck and hands and feet they don;
And put him in a dungeon-cell, where thread
Of light was never by Apollo thrown:
He has a scanty mess of mouldy bread;
And sometimes is he left two days with none;
And one that doth the place of jailer fill
Is prompter than herself to work him ill.

XXI
Oh! if Duke Aymon's daughter brave and fair,
Of if Marphisa of exalted mind
Had heard Rogero's sad estate declare,
And how he in this guise in prison pined,
To his rescue either would have made repair,
And would have flung the fear of death behind:
Nor had bold Bradamant, intent to aid,
Respect to Beatrice or Aymon paid.

XXII
Meanwhile King Charlemagne upon his side,
Heeding his promise made in solemn sort,
That none should have the damsel for his bride,
That of her prowess in the field fell short;
Not only had his sovereign pleasure cried
With sound of trumpet in his royal court,
But in each city subject to his crown.
Hence quickly through the world the bruit was blown.

XXIII
Such the condition which he bids proclaim:
He that would with Duke Aymon's daughter wed
Must with the sword contend against that dame
From the suns rise until he seeks his bed;
And if he for that time maintains the game,
And is not overcome, without more said,
The lady is adjudged to have lost the stake;
Nor him for husband can refuse to take.

XXIV
The choice of arms must be by her foregone,
No matter who may claim it in the course:
And by the damsel this may well be done,
Good at all arms alike, on foot or horse.
Aymon, who cannot strive against the crown,
-- Cannot and will not -- yields at length parforce.
He much the matter sifts, and in the end
Resolves to court with Bradamant to wend.

XXV
Though for the daughter choler and disdain
The mother nursed, yet that she honour due
Might have, she garments, dyed in different grain,
Had wrought for her, of various form and hue.
Bradamant for the court of Charlemagne
Departs, and finding not her love, to her view
His noble court appears like that no more,
Which had appeared to her so fair before.

XXVI
As he that hath beheld a garden, bright
With flowers and leaves in April or in May,
And next beholds it, when the sun his light
Hath sloped toward the north, and shortened day,
Finds it a desert horrid to the sight;
So, now that her Rogero is away,
To Bradamant, who thither made resort,
No longer what it was appeared that court.

XXVII
What is become of him she doth not dare
Demand, lest more suspicion thence be bred;
But listens still, and searches here and there;
That this by some, unquestioned, may be said;
Knows he is gone, but has no notion where
The warrior, when he went, his steps had sped;
Because, departing thence, he spake no word
Save to the squire who journeyed with his lord.

XXVIII
Oh! how she sighs! how fears the gentle maid,
Hearing Rogero, as it were, was flown!
Oh! how above all other terrors, weighed
The fear, that to forget her he was gone!
That, seeing Aymon still his wish gainsayed,
And that to wed the damsel hope was none,
He fled, perchance, so hoping to be loosed
From toils wherein he by her love was noosed;

XXIX
And that with further end the youthful lord
Her from his heart more speedily to chase,
Will rove from realm to realm, till one afford
Some dame, that may his former love efface;
Even, as the proverb says, that in a board
One nail drives out another from its place.
A second thought succeeds, and paints the youth
Arraigned of fickleness, as full of truth;

XXX
And her reproves for having lent an ear
To a suspicion so unjust and blind;
And so, this thought absolves the cavalier;
And that accuses; and both audience find;
And now this way, now that, she seemed to veer;
Nor this, nor that -- irresolute of mind --
Preferred: yet still to what gave most delight
Most promptly leaned, and loathed its opposite;

XXXI
And thinking, ever and anon, anew
On that so oft repeated by the knight,
As for grave sin, remorse and sorrow grew
That she had nursed suspicion and affright;
And she, as her Rogero were in view,
Would blame herself, and would her bosom smite;
And say: "I see 'twas ill such thoughts to nurse,
But he, the cause, is even cause of worse.

XXXII
"Love is the cause; that in my heart inlaid
Thy form, so graceful and so fair to see;
And so thy darling and thy wit pourtrayed,
And worth, of all so bruited, that to me
It seems impossible that wife or maid,
Blest with thy sight, should not be fired by thee;
And that she should not all her art apply
To unbind, and fasten thee with other tie.

XXXIII
"Ah! wellaway! if in my thought Love so
Thy thought, as thy fair visage, had designed,
This -- am I well assured -- in open show,
As I unseen believe it, should I find;
And be so quit of Jealousy, that foe
Would not still harass my suspicious mind;
And, where she is by me repulsed with pain,
Not quelled and routed would she be, but slain.

XXXIV
"I am like miser, so intent on gear,
And who hath this so buried in his heart,
That he, for hoarded treasure still in fear,
Cannot live gladly from his wealth apart.
Since I Rogero neither see nor hear,
More puissant far than Hope, O Fear! thou art;
To thee, though false and idle I give way;
And cannot choose but yield myself thy prey.

XXXV
"But I, Rogero, shall no sooner spy
The light of thy glad countenance appear,
Against mine every credence, from mine eye
Concealed (and woe is me), I know not where, --
Oh! how true Hope false Fear shall from on high
Depose withal, and to the bottom bear!
Ah! turn to me, Rogero! turn again,
And comfort Hope, whom Fear hath almost slain.

XXXVI
"As when the sun withdraws his glittering head,
The shadows lengthen, causing vain affright;
And as the shadows, when he leaves his bed,
Vanish, and reassure the timid wight:
Without Rogero so I suffer dread;
Dread lasts not, if Rogero is in sight.
Return to me, return, Rogero, lest
My hope by fear should wholly be opprest.

XXXVII
"As every spark is in the night alive,
And suddenly extinguished when 'tis morn;
When me my sun doth of his rays deprive,
Against me felon Fear uplifts his horn:
But they the shades of night no sooner drive,
Than Fears are past and gone, and Hopes return.
Return, alas! return, O radiance dear!
And drive from me that foul, consuming Fear.

XXXVIII
"If the sun turn from us and shorten day,
Earth all its beauties from the sight doth hide;
The wild winds howl, and snows and ice convey;
Bird sings not; nor is leaf or flower espied.
So, whensoever thou thy gladsome ray,
O my fair sun, from me dost turn aside,
A thousand, and all evil, dreads, make drear
Winter within me many times a year.

XXXIX
"Return, my sun, return! and springtide sweet,
Which evermore I long to see, bring back;
Dislodge the snows and ice with genial hear;
And clear my mind, so clouded o'er and black."
As Philomel, or Progne, with the meat
Returning, which her famished younglings lack,
Mourns o'er an empty nest, or as the dove
Laments himself at having lost is love;

XL
The unhappy Bradamant laments her so,
Fearing the Child is reft from her and gone;
While often tears her visage overflow:
But she, as best she can, conceals her moan.
Oh! how -- oh! how much worse would be her woe,
If what she knew not to the maid were known!
That, prisoned and with pain and pine consumed,
Her consort to a cruel death was doomed.

XLI
The cruelty which by that beldam ill
Was practised on the prisoned cavalier,
And who prepared the wretched Child to kill,
By torture new and pains unused whilere,
While so Rogero pined, the gracious will
Of Heaven conveyed to gentle Leo's ear;
And put into his heart the means to aid,
And not to let such worth be overlaid.

XLII
The courteous Leo that Rogero loved,
Not that the Grecian knew howe'er that he
Rogero was, but by that valour moved
Which sole and superhuman seemed to be,
Thought much, and mused, and planned, how it behoved
-- And found at last a way -- to set him free;
So that his cruel aunt should have no right
To grieve or say he did her a despite.

XLIII
In secret, Leo with the man that bore
The prison-keys a parley had, and said,
He wished to see that cavalier, before
Upon the wretch was done a doom so dread.
When it was night, one, faithful found of yore,
Bold, strong, and good in brawl, he thither led;
And -- by the silent warder taught that none
Must know 'twas Leo -- was the door undone.

XLIV
Leo, escorted by none else beside,
Was led by the compliant castellain,
With his companion, to the tower, where stied
Was he, reserved for nature's latest pain.
There round the neck of their unwary guide,
Who turns his back the wicket to unchain,
A slip-knot Leo and his follower cast;
And, throttled by the noose, he breathes his last.

XLV
-- The trap upraised, by rope from thence suspended
For such a need -- the Grecian cavalier,
With lighted flambeau in his hand, descended,
Where, straitly bound, and without sun to cheer,
Rogero lay, upon a grate extended,
Less than a palm's breadth of the water clear:
To kill him in a month, or briefer space,
Nothing was needed but that deadly place.

XLVI
Lovingly Leo clipt the Child, and, "Me,
O cavalier! thy matchless valour," cried,
"Hath in indissoluble bands to thee,
In willing and eternal service, tried;
And wills thy good to mine preferred should be,
And I for thine my safety set aside,
And weigh thy friendship more than sire, and all
Whom I throughout the world my kindred call.

XLVII
"I Leo am, that thou what fits mayst know,
Come to thy succour, the Greek emperor's son:
If ever Constantine, my father, trow
That I have aided thee, I danger run
To be exiled, or aye with troubled brow
Regarded for the deed that I have done;
For thee he hates because of those thy blade
Put to the rout and slaughtered near Belgrade."

XLVIII
He his discourse with more beside pursues,
That might from death to life the Child recall;
And all this while Rogero's hands doth loose.
"Infinite thanks I owe you," cries the thrall,
"And I the life you gave me, for your use
Will ever render back, upon your call;
And still, at all your need, I for your sake,
And at all times, that life will promptly stake."

XLIX
Rogero is rescued; and the gaoler slain
Is left in that dark dungeon in his place;
Nor is Rogero known, nor are the twain:
Leo the warrior, free from bondage base,
Brings home, and there in safety to remain
Persuades, in secret, four or six days' space:
Meanwhile for him will he retrieve the gear
And courser, by Ungiardo reft whilere.

L
Open the gaol is found at dawn of light,
The gaoler strangled, and Rogero gone.
Some think that these or those had helped his flight:
All talk; and yet the truth is guessed by none.
Well may they think by any other wight
Rather than Leo had the deed been done;
For many deemed he had cause to have repaid
The Child with scathe, and none to give him aid.

LI
So wildered by such kindness, so immersed
In wonder, is the rescued cavalier,
So from those thoughts is he estranged, that erst
So many weary miles had made him steer,
His second thoughts confronting with his first,
Nor these like those, nor those like these appear.
He first with hatred, rage, and venom burned;
With pity and with love then wholly yearned.

LII
Much muses he by night and much by day;
-- Nor cares for ought, nor ought desires beside --
By equal or more courtesy to pay
The mighty debt that him to Leo tied.
Be his life long or short, or what it may,
Albeit to Leo's service all applied,
Dies he a thousand deaths, he can do nought,
But more will be deserved, Rogero thought.

LIII
Thither meanwhile had tidings been conveyed
Of Charles' decree: that who in nuptial tye
Would yoke with Bradamant, with trenchant blade
Or lance must with the maid his prowess try.
These news the Grecian prince so ill appaid,
His cheek was seen to blanch with sickly dye;
Because, as one that measured well his might,
He knew he was no match for her in fight.

LIV
Communing with himself, he can supply
(He sees) the valour wanting with his wit;
And the strange knight with his own ensignry,
Whose name is yet unknown to him, will fit:
Him he against Frank champion, far and nigh,
Believes he may for force and daring pit;
And if the knight to that emprize agree,
Vanquished and taken Bradamant will be.

LV
But two things must he do; must, first, dispose
That cavalier to undertake the emprize;
Then send afield the champion, whom he chose,
In mode, that none suspect the youth's disguise:
To him the matter Leo doth disclose;
And after prays in efficacious wise,
That he the combat with the maid will claim,
Under false colours and in other's name.

LVI
Much weighs the Grecian's eloquence; but more
Than eloquence with good Rogero weighed
The mighty obligation which he bore;
That debt which cannot ever be repaid.
So, albeit it appeared a hardship sore
And thing well-nigh impossible, he said,
With blither face than heart, that Leo's will
In all that he commands he would fulfil.

LVII
Albeit no sooner he the intent exprest,
Than with sore grief Rogero's heart was shent;
Which, night and day, and ever, doth molest,
Ever afflict him, evermore torment:
And though he sees his death is manifest,
Never will he confess he doth repent:
Rather than not with Leo's prayer comply,
A thousand deaths, not one, the Child will die.

LVIII
Right sure he is to die; if he forego
The lady, he foregoes his life no less.
His heart will break through his distress and woe,
Or, breaking not with woe and with distress,
He will, himself, the bands of life undo,
And of its clay the spirit dispossess.
For all things can he better bear than one;
Than see that gentle damsel not his own.

LIX
To die is he disposed; but how to die
Cannot as yet the sorrowing lord decide:
Sometimes he thinks his prowess to belie,
And offer to her sword his naked side:
For never death can come more happily
Than if her hand the fatal faulchion guide:
Then sees, except he wins the martial maid
For that Greek prince, the debt remains unpaid.

LX
For he with Bradamant, as with a foe,
Promised to do, not feign, a fight in mail,
And not to make of arms a seeming show;
So that his sword should Leo ill avail.
Then by his word will he abide; and though
His breast now these now other thoughts assail,
All from his bosom chased the generous youth,
Save that which moved him to maintain his truth.

LXI
With the emperor's licence, armour to prepare,
And steeds meanwhile had wrought his youthful son;
Who with such goodly following as might square
With his degree, upon his way was gone:
With him Rogero rides, through Leo's care,
Equipt with horse and arms, that were his own.
Day after day the squadron pricks; nor tarries
Until arrived in France; arrived at Paris.