Books: Legends of Charlemagne

T >> Thomas Bulfinch >> Legends of Charlemagne

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The damsel of the bridge appeared as before with the enchanted
cup, but Astolpho, forewarned, rejected it with scorn. She dashed
it to the ground, and a fire blazed up which rendered the bridge
unapproachable. At the same moment the two knights were assailed
by sundry warriors, known and unknown, who, having no recollection
of anything, joined blindly in defence of their prison-house.
Among these was Orlando, at sight of whom Astolpho, with all his
confidence not daring to encounter him, turned and fled, owing his
escape to the strength and fleetness of Bayard.

Florismart, meanwhile, overlaid by fearful odds, was compelled to
yield to necessity, and comply with the usage of the fairy. He
drank of the cup and remained prisoner with the rest. Flordelis,
deprived of her two friends, retired from the scene, and devoted
herself to untiring efforts to effect her lover's deliverance.
Astolpho pursued his way to Albracca, which Agrican was about to
besiege. He was kindly welcomed by Angelica, and enrolled among
her defenders. Impatient to distinguish himself, he one night
sallied forth alone, arrived in Agrican's camp, and unhorsed his
warriors right and left by means of the enchanted lance. But he
was soon surrounded and overmatched, and made prisoner to Agrican.

Relief was, however, at hand; for as the citizens and soldiers
were one day leaning over their walls they descried a cloud of
dust, from which horsemen were seen to prick forth, as it rolled
on towards the camp of the besiegers. This turned out to be the
army of Sacripant, which immediately attacked that of Agrican,
with the view of cutting a passage through his camp to the
besieged city. But Agrican, mounted upon Bayard, taken from
Astolpho, but not armed with the lance of gold, the virtues of
which were unknown to him, performed wonders, and rallied his
scattered troops, which had given way to the sudden and unexpected
assault. Sacripant, on the other hand, encouraged his men by the
most desperate acts of valor, having as an additional incentive to
his courage the sight of Angelica, who showed herself upon the
city walls.

There she witnessed a single combat between the two leaders,
Agrican and Sacripant. In this, at length, her defender appeared
to be overmatched, when the Circassians broke the ring, and
separated the combatants, who were borne asunder in the rush.
Sacripant, severely wounded, profited by the confusion, and
escaped into Albracca, where he was kindly received and carefully
tended by Angelica.

The battle continuing, the Circassians were at last put to flight,
and, being intercepted between the enemy's lines and the town,
sought for refuge under the walls. Angelica ordered the drawbridge
to be let down, and the gates thrown open to the fugitives. With
these Agrican, not distinguished in the crowd, entered the place,
driving both Circassians and Cathayans before him, and the
portcullis being dropped, he was shut in.

For a time the terror which he inspired put to flight all
opposers, but when at last it came to be known that few or none of
his followers had effected an entrance with him, the fugitives
rallied and surrounded him on all sides. While he was thus
apparently reduced to the last extremities, he was saved by the
very circumstance which threatened him with destruction. The
soldiers of Angelica, closing upon him from all sides, deserted
their defences; and his own besieging army entered the city in a
part where the wall was broken down.

In this way was Agrican rescued, the city taken, and the
inhabitants put to the sword. Angelica, however, with some of the
knights who were her defenders, among whom was Sacripant, saved
herself in the citadel, which was planted upon a rock.

The fortress was impregnable, but it was scantily victualled, and
ill provided with other necessaries. Under these circumstances
Angelica announced to those blockaded with her in the citadel her
intention to go in quest of assistance, and, having plighted her
promise of a speedy return, she set out, with the enchanted ring
upon her finger. Mounted upon her palfrey, the damsel passed
through the enemy's lines, and by sunrise was many miles clear of
their encampment.

It so happened that her road led her near the fatal bridge of
Oblivion, and as she approached it she met a damsel weeping
bitterly. It was Flordelis, whose lover, Florismart, as we have
related, had met the fate of Orlando and many more, and fallen a
victim to the enchantress of the cup. She related her adventures
to Angelica, and conjured her to lend what aid she might to rescue
her lord and his companions. Angelica, accordingly, watching her
opportunity and aided by her ring, slipped into the castle unseen,
when the door was opened to admit a new victim. Here she speedily
disenchanted Orlando and the rest by a touch of her talisman. But
Florismart was not there. He had been given up to Falerina, a more
powerful enchantress, and was still in durance. Angelica conjured
the rescued captives to assist her in the recovery of her kingdom,
and all departed together for Albracca.

The arrival of Orlando, with his companions, nine in all, and
among the bravest knights of France, changed at once the fortunes
of the war. Wherever the great paladin came, pennon and standard
fell before him. Agrican in vain attempted to rally his troops.
Orlando kept constantly in his front, forcing him to attend to
nobody else. The Tartar king at length bethought him of a
stratagem. He turned his horse, and made a show of flying in
despair. Orlando dashed after him as he desired, and Agrican fled
till he reached a green place in a wood, where there was a
fountain.

The place was beautiful, and the Tartar dismounted to refresh
himself at the fountain, but without taking off his helmet, or
laying aside any of his armor. Orlando was quickly at his back,
crying out, "So bold, and yet a fugitive! How could you fly from a
single arm and think to escape?"

The Tartar king had leaped on his saddle the moment he saw his
enemy, and when the paladin had done speaking, he said in a mild
voice, "Without doubt you are the best knight I ever encountered,
and fain would I leave you untouched for your own sake, if you
would cease to hinder me from rallying my people. I pretended to
fly, in order to bring you out of the field. If you insist upon
fighting I must needs fight and slay you, but I call the sun in
the heavens to witness I would rather not. I should be very sorry
for your death."

The Count Orlando felt pity for so much gallantry, and he said,
"The nobler you show yourself the more it grieves me to think that
in dying without a knowledge of the true faith you will be lost in
the other world. Let me advise you to save body and soul at once.
Receive baptism, and go your way in peace."

Agrican replied: "I suspect you to be the paladin Orlando. If you
are I would not lose this opportunity of fighting with you to be
king of Paradise. Talk to me no more about your things of another
world, for you will preach in vain. Each of us for himself, and
let the sword be umpire."

The Saracen drew his sword, boldly advancing upon Orlando, and a
combat began, so obstinate and so long, each warrior being a
miracle of prowess, that the story says it lasted from noon till
night. Orlando then seeing the stars come out was the first to
propose a respite.

"What are we to do," said he, "now that daylight has left us?"

Agrican answered readily enough, "Let us repose in this meadow,
and renew the combat at dawn."

The repose was taken accordingly. Each tied up his horse, and
reclined himself on the grass, not far from the other, just as if
they had been friends, Orlando by the fountain, Agrican beneath a
pine. It was a beautiful clear night, and, as they talked together
before addressing themselves to sleep, the champion of
Christendom, looking up at the firmament, said, "That is a fine
piece of workmanship, that starry spectacle; God made it all, that
moon of silver, and those stars of gold, and the light of day, and
the sun,--all for the sake of human kind."

"You wish, I see, to talk of matters of faith," said the Tartar.
"Now I may as well tell you at once that I have no sort of skill
in such matters, nor learning of any kind. I never could learn
anything when I was a boy. I hated it so that I broke the man's
head who was commissioned to teach me; and it produced such an
effect on others that nobody ever afterwards dared so much as show
me a book. My boyhood was therefore passed, as it should be, in
horsemanship and hunting, and learning to fight. What is the good
of a gentleman's poring all day over a book? Prowess to the
knight, and preaching to the clergyman, that is my motto."

"I acknowledge," returned Orlando, "that arms are the first
consideration of a gentleman; but not at all that he does himself
dishonor by knowledge. On the contrary, knowledge is as great an
embellishment of the rest of his attainments, as the flowers are
to the meadow before us; and as to the knowledge of his Maker, the
man that is without it is no better than a stock or a stone or a
brute beast. Neither without study can he reach anything of a due
sense of the depth and divineness of the contemplation."

"Learned or not learned," said Agrican, "you might show yourself
better bred than by endeavoring to make me talk on a subject on
which you have me at a disadvantage. If you choose to sleep I wish
you good night; but if you prefer talking I recommend you to talk
of fighting or of fair ladies. And, by the way, pray tell me, are
you not that Orlando who makes such a noise in the world? And what
is it, pray, that brings you into these parts? Were you ever in
love? I suppose you must have been; for to be a knight, and never
to have been in love, would be like being a man without a heart in
his breast."

The count replied: "Orlando I am, and in love I am. Love has made
me abandon everything, and brought me into these distant regions,
and, to tell you all in one word, my heart is in the hands of the
daughter of King Galafron. You have come against him with fire and
sword, to get possession of his castles and his dominions; and I
have come to help him, for no object in the world but to please
his daughter and win her beautiful hand. I care for nothing else
in existence."

Now when the Tartar king, Agrican, heard his antagonist speak in
this manner, and knew him to be indeed Orlando, and to be in love
with Angelica, his face changed color for grief and jealousy,
though it could not be seen for the darkness. His heart began
beating with such violence that he felt as if he should have died.
"Well," said he to Orlando, "we are to fight when it is daylight,
and one or other is to be left here, dead on the ground. I have a
proposal to make to you--nay, an entreaty. My love is so
excessive for the same lady that I beg you to leave her to me. I
will owe you my thanks, and give up the siege and put an end to
the war. I cannot bear that any one should love her, and that I
should live to see it. Why, therefore, should either of us perish?
Give her up. Not a soul shall know it."

"I never yet," answered Orlando, "made a promise which I did not
keep, and nevertheless I own to you that, were I to make a promise
like that, and even swear to keep it, I should not. You might as
well ask me to tear away the limbs from my body, and the eyes out
of my head. I could as well live without breath itself as cease
loving Angelica."

Agrican had hardly patience to let him finish speaking, ere he
leapt furiously on horseback, though it was midnight. "Quit her,"
said he, "or die!"

Orlando seeing the infidel getting up, and not being sure that he
would not add treachery to fierceness, had been hardly less quick
in mounting for the combat. "Never," exclaimed he; "I never could
have quitted her if I would, and now I would not if I could. You
must seek her by other means than these."

Fiercely dashed their horses together, in the nighttime, on the
green mead. Despiteful and terrible were the blows they gave and
took by the moonlight. Agrican fought in a rage, Orlando was
cooler. And now the struggle had lasted more than five hours, and
day began to dawn, when the Tartar king, furious to find so much
trouble given him, dealt his enemy a blow sharp and violent beyond
conception. It cut the shield in two as if it had been made of
wood, and, though blood could not be drawn from Orlando, because
he was fated, it shook and bruised him as if it had started every
joint in his body.

His body only, however, not a particle of his soul. So dreadful
was the blow which the paladin gave in return, that not only
shield, but every bit of mail on the body of Agrican was broken in
pieces, and three of his ribs cut asunder.

The Tartar, roaring like a lion, raised his sword with still
greater vehemence than before, and dealt a blow on the paladin's
helmet, such as he had never yet received from mortal man. For a
moment it took away his senses. His sight failed, his ears
tingled, his frightened horse turned about to fly; and he was
falling from the saddle, when the very action of falling threw his
head upwards, and thus recalled his recollection.

"What a shame is this!" thought he; "how shall I ever again dare
to face Angelica! I have been fighting hour after hour with this
man, and he is but one, and I call myself Orlando! If the combat
last any longer I will bury myself in a monastery, and never look
on sword again."

Orlando muttered with his lips closed and his teeth ground
together; and you might have thought that fire instead of breath
came out of his nose and mouth. He raised his sword Durindana with
both his hands, and sent it down so tremendously on Agrican's
shoulder that it cut through breastplate down to the very haunch,
nay, crushed the saddle-bow, though it was made of bone and iron,
and felled man and horse to the earth. Agrican turned as white as
ashes, and felt death upon him. He called Orlando to come close to
him, with a gentle voice, and said, as well as he could: "I
believe on Him who died on the cross. Baptize me, I pray thee,
with the fountain, before my senses are gone. I have lived an evil
life, but need not be rebellious to God in death also. May He who
came to save all the rest of the world save me!" And he shed
tears, that great king, though he had been so lofty and fierce.

Orlando dismounted quickly, with his own face in tears. He
gathered the king tenderly in his arms, and took and laid him by
the fountain, on a marble rim that it had, and then he wept in
concert with him heartily, and asked his pardon, and so baptized
him in the water of the fountain, and knelt and prayed to God for
him with joined hands.

He then paused and looked at him; and when he perceived his
countenance changed, and that his whole person was cold, he left
him there on the marble rim of the fountain, all armed as he was,
with the sword by his side, and the crown upon his head.

ADVENTURES OF RINALDO AND ORLANDO

We left Rinaldo when, having overcome the monster, he quitted the
castle of Altaripa, and pursued his way on foot. He soon met with
a weeping damsel, who, being questioned as to the cause of her
sorrow, told him she was in search of one to do battle to rescue
her lover, who had been made prisoner by a vile enchantress,
together with Orlando and many more. The damsel was Flordelis, the
lady-love of Florismart, and Rinaldo promised his assistance,
trusting to accomplish the adventure either by valor or skill.
Flordelis insisted upon Rinaldo's taking her horse, which he
consented to do, on condition of her mounting behind him.

As they rode on through a wood, they heard strange noises, and
Rinaldo, reassuring the damsel, pressed forward towards the
quarter from which they proceeded. He soon perceived a giant
standing under a vaulted cavern, with a huge club in his hand, and
of an appearance to strike the boldest spirit with dread. By the
side of the cavern was chained a griffin, which, together with the
giant, was stationed there to guard a wonderful horse, the same
which was once Argalia's. This horse was a creature of
enchantment, matchless in vigor, speed, and form, which disdained
to share the diet of his fellow-steeds,--corn or grass,--and fed
only on air. His name was Rabican.

This marvellous horse, after his master Argalia had been slain by
Ferrau, finding himself at liberty, returned to his native cavern,
and was here stabled under the protection of the giant and the
griffin. As Rinaldo approached, the giant assailed him with his
club. Rinaldo defended himself from the giant's blows, and gave
him one in return, which, if his skin had not been of the
toughest, would have finished the combat. But the giant, though
wounded, escaped, and let loose the griffin. This monstrous bird
towered in air, and thence pounced down upon Rinaldo, who,
watching his opportunity, dealt her a desperate wound. She had,
however, strength for another flight, and kept repeating her
attacks, which Rinaldo parried as he could, while the damsel stood
trembling by, witnessing the contest.

The battle continued, rendered more terrible by the approach of
night, when Rinaldo determined upon a desperate expedient to bring
it to a conclusion. He fell, as if fainting from his wounds, and,
on the close approach of the griffin, dealt her a blow which
sheared away one of her wings. The beast, though sinking, griped
him fast with her talons, digging through plate and mail; but
Rinaldo plied his sword in utter desperation, and at last
accomplished her destruction.

Rinaldo then entered the cavern, and found there the wonderful
horse, all caparisoned. He was coal-black, except for a star of
white on his forehead, and one white foot behind. For speed he was
unrivalled, though in strength he yielded to Bayard. Rinaldo
mounted upon Rabican, and issued from the cavern.

As he pursued his way he met a fugitive from Agrican's army, who
gave such an account of the prowess of a champion who fought on
the side of Angelica, that Rinaldo was persuaded this must be
Orlando, though at a loss to imagine how he could have been freed
from captivity. He determined to repair to the scene of the
contest to satisfy his curiosity, and Flordelis, hoping to find
Florismart with Orlando, consented to accompany him.

While these things were doing, all was rout and dismay in the
Tartarian army, from the death of Agrican. King Galafron, arriving
at this juncture with an army for the relief of his capital,
Albracca, assaulted the enemy's camp, and carried all before him.
Rinaldo had now reached the scene of action, and was looking on as
an unconcerned spectator, when he was espied by Galafron. The king
instantly recognized the horse Rabican, which he had given to
Argalia when he sent him forth on his ill-omened mission to Paris.
Possessed with the idea that the rider of the horse was the
murderer of Argalia, Galafron rode at Rinaldo, and smote him with
all his force. Rinaldo was not slow to avenge the blow, and it
would have gone hard with the king had not his followers instantly
closed round him and separated the combatants.

Rinaldo thus found himself, almost without his own choice,
enlisted on the side of the enemies of Angelica, which gave him no
concern, so completely had his draught from the fountain of hate
steeled his mind against her.

For several successive days the struggle continued, without any
important results, Rinaldo meeting the bravest knights of
Angelica's party, and defeating them one after the other. At
length he encountered Orlando, and the two knights bitterly
reproached one another for the cause they had each adopted, and
engaged in a furious combat. Orlando was mounted upon Bayard,
Rinaldo's horse, which Agrican had by chance become possessed of,
and Orlando had taken from him as the prize of victory. Bayard
would not fight against his master, and Orlando was getting the
worse of the encounter, when suddenly Rinaldo, seeing Astolpho,
who for love of him had arrayed himself on his side, hard beset by
numbers, left Orlando to rush to the defence of his friend. Night
prevented the combat from being renewed; but a challenge was given
and accepted for their next meeting.

But Angelica, sighing in her heart for Rinaldo, was not willing
that he should be again exposed to so terrible a venture. She
begged a boon of Orlando, promising she would be his if he would
do her bidding. On receiving his promise, she enjoined him to set
out without delay to destroy the garden of the enchantress
Falerina, in which many valiant knights had been entrapped, and
were imprisoned.

Orlando departed on his horse Brigliadoro, leaving Bayard in
disgrace for his bad deportment the day before. Angelica, to
conciliate Rinaldo, sent Bayard to him; but Rinaldo remained
unmoved by this as by all her former acts of kindness.

When Rinaldo learned Orlando's departure, he yielded to the
entreaties of the lady of Florismart, and prepared to fulfil his
promise, and rescue her lover from the power of the enchantress.
Thus both Rinaldo and Orlando were bound upon the same adventure,
but unknown to one another.

The castle of Falerina was protected by a river, which was crossed
by a bridge, kept by a ruffian, who challenged all comers to the
combat; and such was his strength that he had thus far prevailed
in every encounter, as appeared by the arms of various knights
which he had taken from them, and piled up as a trophy on the
shore. Rinaldo attacked him, but with as bad success as the rest,
for the bridge-ward struck him so violent a blow with an iron mace
that he fell to the ground. But when the villain approached to
strip him of his armor, Rinaldo seized him, and the bridge-ward,
being unable to free himself, leapt with Rinaldo into the lake,
where they both disappeared.

Orlando, meanwhile, in discharge of his promise to Angelica,
pursued his way in quest of the same adventure. In passing through
a wood he saw a cavalier armed at all points, and mounted, keeping
guard over a lady who was bound to a tree, weeping bitterly.
Orlando hastened to her relief, but was exhorted by the knight not
to interfere, for she had deserved her fate by her wickedness. In
proof of which he made certain charges against her. The lady
denied them all, and Orlando believed her, defied the knight,
overthrew him, and, releasing the lady, departed with her seated
on his horse's croup.

While they rode another damsel approached on a white palfrey, who
warned Orlando of impending danger, and informed him that he was
near the garden of the enchantress. Orlando was delighted with the
intelligence, and entreated her to inform him how he was to gain
admittance. She replied that the garden could only be entered at
sunrise and gave him such instructions as would enable him to gain
admittance. She gave him also a book in which was painted the
garden and all that it contained, together with the palace of the
false enchantress, where she had secluded herself for the purpose
of executing a magic work in which she was engaged. This was the
manufacture of a sword capable of cutting even through enchanted
substances The object of this labor, the damsel told him, was the
destruction of a knight of the west, by name Orlando, who she had
read in the book of Fate was coming to demolish her garden. Having
thus instructed him, the damsel departed.

Orlando, finding he must delay his enterprise till the next
morning, now lay down and was soon asleep. Seeing this, the base
woman whom he had rescued, and who was intent on making her escape
to rejoin her paramour, mounted Brigliadoro, and rode off,
carrying away Durindana.

When Orlando awoke, his indignation, as may be supposed, was great
on the discovery of the theft; but, like a good knight and true,
he was not to be diverted from his enterprise. He tore off a huge
branch of an elm to supply the place of his sword; and, as the sun
rose, took his way towards the gate of the garden, where a dragon
was on his watch. This he slew by repeated blows, and entered the
garden, the gate of which closed behind him, barring retreat.
Looking round him, he saw a fair fountain, which overflowed into a
river, and in the centre of the fountain a figure, on whose
forehead was written:

"The stream which waters violet and rose,
From hence to the enchanted palace goes."

Following the banks of this flowing stream, and rapt in the
delights of the charming garden, Orlando arrived at the palace,
and entering it, found the mistress, clad in white, with a crown
of gold upon her head, in the act of viewing herself in the
surface of the magic sword. Orlando surprised her before she could
escape, deprived her of the weapon, and holding her fast by her
long hair, which floated behind, threatened her with immediate
death if she did not yield up her prisoners, and afford him the
means of egress. She, however, was firm of purpose, making no
reply, and Orlando, unable to move her either by threats or
entreaties, was under the necessity of binding her to a beech, and
pursuing his quest as he best might.

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