Books: Legends of Charlemagne

T >> Thomas Bulfinch >> Legends of Charlemagne

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One of these monsters, who had something approaching the human
form, though he had the neck, ears, and muzzle of a dog, set
himself to bark furiously at Rogero, to make him turn off to the
right, and reenter upon the road to the gay city; but the brave
chevalier exclaimed, "That will I not, so long as I can use this
sword,"--and he thrust the point directly at his face. The monster
tried to strike him with a lance, but Rogero was too quick for
him, and thrust his sword through his body, so that it appeared a
hand's breadth behind his back. The paladin, now giving full vent
to his rage, laid about him vigorously among the rabble, cleaving
one to the teeth, another to the girdle; but the troop were so
numerous, and in spite of his blows pressed around him so close,
that, to clear his way, he must have had as many arms as Briareus.

If Rogero had uncovered the shield of the enchanter, which hung at
his saddle-bow, he might easily have vanquished this monstrous
rout; but perhaps he did not think of it, and perhaps he preferred
to seek his defence nowhere but in his good sword. At that moment,
when his perplexity was at its height, he saw issue from the city
gate two young beauties, whose air and dress proclaimed their rank
and gentle nurture. Each of them was mounted on a unicorn, whose
whiteness surpassed that of ermine. They advanced to the meadow
where Rogero was contending so valiantly against the hobgoblins,
who all retired at their approach. They drew near, they extended
their hands to the young warrior, whose cheeks glowed with the
flush of exercise and modesty. Grateful for their assistance, he
expressed his thanks, and, having no heart to refuse them,
followed their guidance to the gate of the city.

This grand and beautiful entrance was adorned by a portico of four
vast columns, all of diamond. Whether they were real diamond or
artificial I cannot say. What matter is it, so long as they
appeared to the eye like diamond, and nothing could be more gay
and splendid.

On the threshold, and between the columns, was seen a bevy of
charming young women, who played and frolicked together. They all
ran to receive Rogero, and conducted him into the palace, which
appeared like a paradise.

We might well call by that name this abode, where the hours flew
by, without account, in ever-new delights. The bare idea of
satiety, want, and, above all, of age, never entered the minds of
the inhabitants. They experienced no sensations except those of
luxury and gayety; the cup of happiness seemed for them ever-
flowing and exhaustless. The two young damsels to whom Rogero owed
his deliverance from the hobgoblins conducted him to the apartment
of their mistress. The beautiful Alcina advanced, and greeted him
with an air at once dignified and courteous. All her court
surrounded the paladin, and rendered him the most flattering
attentions. The castle was less admirable for its magnificence
than for the charms of those who inhabited it. They were of either
sex, well matched in beauty, youth, and grace; but among this
charming group the brilliant Alcina shone, as the sun outshines
the stars. The young warrior was fascinated. All that he had heard
from the myrtle-tree appeared to him but a vile calumny. How could
he suspect that falsehood and treason veiled themselves under
smiles and the ingenuous air of truth? He doubted not that
Astolpho had deserved his fate, and perhaps a punishment more
severe; he regarded all his stories as dictated by a disappointed
spirit, and a thirst for revenge. But we must not condemn Rogero
too harshly, for he was the victim of magic power.

They seated themselves at table, and immediately harmonious lyres
and harps waked the air with the most ravishing notes. The charms
of poetry were added in entertaining recitals; the magnificence of
the feast would have done credit to a royal board. The traitress
forgot nothing which might charm the paladin, and attach him to
the spot, meaning, when she should grow tired of him, to
metamorphose him as she had done others. In the same manner passed
each succeeding day. Games of pleasant exercise, the chase, the
dance, or rural sports, made the hours pass quickly; while they
gave zest to the refreshment of the bath, or sleep.

Thus Rogero led a life of ease and luxury, while Charlemagne and
Agramant were struggling for empire. But I cannot linger with him
while the amiable and courageous Bradamante is night and day
directing her uncertain steps to every spot where the slightest
chance invites her, in the hope of recovering Rogero.

I will therefore say that, having sought him in vain in fields and
in cities, she knew not whither next to direct her steps. She did
not apprehend the death of Rogero. The fall of such a hero would
have reechoed from the Hydaspes to the farthest river of the West;
but, not knowing whether he was on the earth or in the air, she
concluded, as a last resource, to return to the cavern which
contained the tomb of Merlin, to ask of him some sure direction to
the object of her search.

While this thought occupied her mind, Melissa, the sage
enchantress, suddenly appeared before her. This virtuous and
beneficent magician had discovered by her spells that Rogero was
passing his time in pleasure and idleness, forgetful of his honor
and his sovereign. Not able to endure the thought that one who was
born to be a hero should waste his years in base repose, and leave
a sullied reputation in the memory of survivors, she saw that
vigorous measures must be employed to draw him forth into the
paths of virtue. Melissa was not blinded by her affection for the
amiable paladin, like Atlantes, who, intent only on preserving
Rogero's life, cared nothing for his fame. It was that old
enchanter whose arts had guided the Hippogriff to the isle of the
too charming Alcina, where he hoped his favorite would learn to
forget honor, and lose the love of glory.

At the sight of Melissa joy lighted up the countenance of
Bradamante, and hope animated her breast. Melissa concealed
nothing from her, but told her how Rogero was in the toils of
Alcina. Bradamante was plunged in grief and terror; but the kind
enchantress calmed her, dispelled her fears, and promised that
before many days she would lead back the paladin to her feet.

"My daughter," she said, "give me the ring which you wear, and
which possesses the power to overcome enchantments. By means of it
I doubt not but that I may enter the stronghold where the false
Alcina holds Rogero in durance, and may succeed in vanquishing her
and liberating him." Bradamante unhesitatingly delivered her the
ring, recommending Rogero to her best efforts. Melissa then
summoned by her art a huge palfrey, black as jet, excepting one
foot, which was bay. Mounted upon this animal, she rode with such
speed that by the next morning she had reached the abode of
Alcina.

She here transformed herself into the perfect resemblance of the
old magician Atlantes, adding a palm-breadth to her height, and
enlarging her whole figure. Her chin she covered with a long
beard, and seamed her whole visage well with wrinkles. She assumed
also his voice and manner, and watched her chance to find Rogero
alone. At last she found him, dressed in a rich tunic of silk and
gold, a collar of precious stones about his neck, and his arms,
once so rough with exercise, decorated with bracelets. His air and
his every motion indicated effeminacy, and he seemed to retain
nothing of Rogero but the name; such power had the enchantress
obtained over him.

Melissa, under the form of his old instructor, presented herself
before him, wearing a stern and serious visage. "Is this, then,"
she said, "the fruit of all my labors? Is it for this that I fed
you on the marrow of bears and lions, that I taught you to subdue
dragons, and, like Hercules, strangle serpents in your youthful
grasp, only to make you, by all my cares, a feeble Adonis? My
nightly watchings of the stars, of the yet warm fibres of animals,
the lots I have cast, the points of nativity that I have
calculated, have they all falsely indicated that you were born for
greatness? Who could have believed that you would become the slave
of a base enchantress? O Rogero, learn to know this Alcina, learn
to understand her arts and to countervail them. Take this ring,
place it on your finger, return to her presence, and see for
yourself what are her real charms."

At these words, Rogero, confused, abashed, cast his eyes upon the
ground, and knew not what to answer. Melissa seized the moment,
slipped the ring on his finger, and the paladin was himself again.
What a thunderclap to him! Overcome by shame, he dared not to
encounter the looks of his instructor. When at last he raised his
eyes he beheld not that venerable form, but the priestess Melissa,
who in virtue of the ring now appeared in her true person. She
told him of the motives which had led her to come to his rescue,
of the griefs and regrets of Bradamante, and of her unwearied
search for him. "That charming Amazon," she said, "sends you this
ring, which is a sovereign antidote to all enchantments. She would
have sent you her heart in my hands, if it would have had greater
power to serve you."

It was needless for Melissa to say more. Rogero's love for Alcina,
being but the work of enchantment, vanished as soon as the
enchantment was withdrawn, and he now hated her with an equal
intensity, seeing no longer anything in her but her vices, and
feeling only resentment for the shame that she had put upon him.

His surprise when he again beheld Alcina was no less than his
indignation. Fortified by his ring from her enchantments, he saw
her as she was, a monster of ugliness. All her charms were
artificial, and, truly viewed, were rather deformities. She was,
in fact, older than Hecuba or the Sibyl of Cumae; but an art,
which it is to be regretted our times have lost, enabled her to
appear charming, and to clothe herself in all the attractions of
youth. Rogero now saw all this, but, governed by the counsels of
Melissa, he concealed his surprise, assumed under some pretext his
armor, long neglected, and bound to his side Belisarda, his trusty
sword, taking also the buckler of Atlantes, covered with its veil.

He then selected a horse from the stables of Alcina, without
exciting her suspicions; but he left the Hippogriff, by the advice
of Melissa, who promised to take him in charge, and train him to a
more manageable state. The horse he took was Rabican, which
belonged to Astolpho. He restored the ring to Melissa.

Rogero had not ridden far when he met one of the huntsmen of
Alcina, bearing a falcon on his wrist, and followed by a dog. The
huntsman was mounted on a powerful horse, and came boldly up to
the paladin, demanding, in a somewhat imperious manner, whither he
was going so rapidly. Rogero disdained to stop or to reply;
whereupon the huntsman, not doubting that he was about making his
escape, said, "What if I, with my falcon, stop your ride?" So
saying, he threw off the bird, which even Rabican could not equal
in speed. The huntsman then leapt from his horse, and the animal,
open-mouthed, darted after Rogero with the swiftness of an arrow.
The huntsman also ran as if the wind or fire bore him, and the dog
was equal to Rabican in swiftness. Rogero, finding flight
impossible, stopped and faced his pursuers; but his sword was
useless against such foes. The insolent huntsman assailed him with
words, and struck him with his whip, the only weapon he had; the
dog bit his feet, and the horse drove at him with his hoofs. At
the same time the falcon flew over his head and over Rabican's and
attacked them with claws and wings, so that the horse in his
fright began to be unmanageable. At that moment the sound of
trumpets and cymbals was heard in the valley, and it was evident
that Alcina had ordered out all her array to go in pursuit. Rogero
felt that there was no time to be lost, and luckily remembered the
shield of Atlantes, which he bore suspended from his neck. He
unveiled it, and the charm worked wonderfully. The huntsman, the
dog, the horse, fell flat; the trembling wings of the falcon could
no longer sustain her, and she fell senseless to the ground.
Rogero, rid of their annoyances, left them in their trance, and
rode away.

Meanwhile Alcina, with all the force she could muster, sallied
forth from her palace in pursuit. Melissa, left behind, took
advantage of the opportunity to ransack all the rooms, protected
by the ring. She undid one by one all the talismans and spells
which she found, broke the seals, burned the images, and untied
the hagknots. Thence, hurrying through the fields, she
disenchanted the victims changed into trees, fountains, stones, or
brutes; all of whom recovered their liberty, and vowed eternal
gratitude to their deliverer. They made their escape, with all
possible despatch, to the realms of the good Logestilla, whence
they departed to their several homes.

Astolpho was the first whom Melissa liberated, for Rogero had
particularly recommended him to her care. She aided him to recover
his arms, and particularly that precious golden-headed lance which
once was Argalia's. The enchantress mounted with him upon the
winged horse, and in a short time arrived through the air at the
castle of Logestilla, where Rogero joined them soon after.

In this abode the friends passed a short period of delightful and
improving intercourse with the sage Logestilla and her virtuous
court; and then each departed, Rogero with the Hippogriff, ring,
and buckler; Astolpho with his golden lance, and mounted on
Rabican, the fleetest of steeds. To Rogero Logestilla gave a bit
and bridle suited to govern the Hippogriff; and to Astolpho a horn
of marvellous powers, to be sounded only when all other weapons
were unavailing.

THE ORC

We left the charming Angelica at the moment when, in her flight
from her contending lovers, Sacripant and Rinaldo, she met an aged
hermit. We have seen that her request to the hermit was to furnish
her the means of gaining the sea-coast, eager to avoid Rinaldo,
whom she hated, by leaving France and Europe itself. The pretended
hermit, who was no other than a vile magician, knowing well that
it would not be agreeable to his false gods to aid Angelica in
this undertaking, feigned to comply with her desire. He supplied
her a horse, into which he had by his arts caused a subtle devil
to enter, and, having mounted Angelica on the animal, directed her
what course to take to reach the sea.

Angelica rode on her way without suspicion, but when arrived at
the shore, the demon urged the animal headlong into the water.
Angelica in vain attempted to turn him back to the land; he
continued his course till, as night approached, he landed with his
burden on a sandy headland.

Angelica, finding herself alone, abandoned in this frightful
solitude, remained without movement, as if stupefied, with hands
joined and eyes turned towards heaven, till at last, pouring forth
a torrent of tears, she exclaimed: "Cruel fortune, have you not
yet exhausted your rage against me? To what new miseries do you
doom me? Alas! then finish your work! Deliver me a prey to some
ferocious beast, or by whatever fate you choose bring me to an
end. I will be thankful to you for terminating my life and my
misery." At last, exhausted by her sorrows, she fell asleep, and
sunk prostrate on the sand.

Before recounting what next befell, we must declare what place it
was upon which the unhappy lady was now thrown. In the sea that
washes the coast of Ireland there is an island called Ebuda, whose
inhabitants, once numerous, had been wasted by the anger of
Proteus till there were now but few left. This deity was incensed
by some neglect of the usual honors which he had in old times
received from the inhabitants of the land, and, to execute his
vengeance, had sent a horrid sea-monster, called an Orc, to devour
them. Such were the terrors of his ravages that the whole people
of the isle had shut themselves up in the principal town, and
relied on their walls alone to protect them. In this distress they
applied to the Oracle for advice, and were directed to appease the
wrath of the sea-monster by offering to him the fairest virgin
that the country could produce.

Now it so happened that the very day when this dreadful oracle was
announced, and when the fatal mandate had gone forth to seek among
the fairest maidens of the land one to be offered to the monster,
some sailors, landing on the beach where Angelica was, beheld that
beauty as she lay asleep.

O blind Chance! whose power in human affairs is but too great,
canst thou then abandon to the teeth of a horrible monster those
charms which different sovereigns took arms against one another to
possess? Alas! the lovely Angelica is destined to be the victim of
those cruel islanders.

Still asleep, she was bound by the Ebudians, and it was not until
she was carried on board the vessel that she came to a knowledge
of her situation. The wind filled the sails and wafted the ship
swiftly to the port, where all that beheld her agreed that she was
unquestionably the victim selected by Proteus himself to be his
prey. Who can tell the screams, the mortal anguish of this unhappy
maiden, the reproaches she addressed even to the heavens
themselves, when the dreadful information of her cruel fate was
made known to her? I cannot; let me rather turn to a happier part
of my story.

Rogero left the palace of Logestilla, careering on his flying
courser far above the tops of the mountains, and borne westward by
the Hippogriff, which he guided with ease, by means of the bridle
that Melissa had given him. Anxious as he was to recover
Bradamante, he could not fail to be delighted at the view his
rapid flight presented of so many vast regions and populous
countries as he passed over in his career. At last he approached
the shores of England, and perceived an immense army in all the
splendor of military pomp, as if about to go forth flushed with
hopes of victory. He caused the Hippogriff to alight not far from
the scene, and found himself immediately surrounded by admiring
spectators, knights and soldiers, who could not enough indulge
their curiosity and wonder. Rogero learned, in reply to his
questions, that the fine array of troops before him was the army
destined to go to the aid of the French Emperor, in compliance
with the request presented by the illustrious Rinaldo, as
ambassador of King Charles, his uncle.

By this time the curiosity of the English chevaliers was partly
gratified in beholding the Hippogriff at rest, and Rogero, to
renew their surprise and delight, remounted the animal, and,
slapping spurs to his sides, made him launch into the air with the
rapidity of a meteor, and directed his flight still westwardly,
till he came within sight of the coasts of Ireland. Here he
descried what seemed to be a fair damsel, alone, fast chained to a
rock which projected into the sea. What was his astonishment when,
drawing nigh, he beheld the beautiful princess Angelica! That day
she had been led forth and bound to the rock, there to wait till
the sea-monster should come to devour her. Rogero exclaimed as he
came near, "What cruel hands, what barbarous soul, what fatal
chance can have loaded thee with those chains?" Angelica replied
by a torrent of tears, at first her only response; then, in a
trembling voice, she disclosed to him the horrible destiny for
which she was there exposed. While she spoke, a terrible roaring
was heard far off on the sea. The huge monster soon came in sight,
part of his body appearing above the waves and part concealed.
Angelica, half dead with fear, abandoned herself to despair.

Rogero, lance in rest, spurred his Hippogriff toward the Orc, and
gave him a thrust. The horrible monster was like nothing that
nature produces. It was but one mass of tossing and twisting body,
with nothing of the animal but head, eyes, and mouth, the last
furnished with tusks like those of the wild boar. Rogero's lance
had struck him between the eyes; but rock and iron are not more
impenetrable than were his scales. The knight, seeing the
fruitlessness of the first blow, prepared to give a second. The
animal, beholding upon the water the shadow of the great wings of
the Hippogriff, abandoned his prey, and turned to seize what
seemed nearer. Rogero took the opportunity, and dealt him furious
blows on various parts of his body, taking care to keep clear of
his murderous teeth; but the scales resisted every attack. The Orc
beat the water with his tail till he raised a foam which enveloped
Rogero and his steed, so that the knight hardly knew whether he
was in the water or the air. He began to fear that the wings of
the Hippogriff would be so drenched with water that they would
cease to sustain him. At that moment Rogero bethought him of the
magic shield which hung at his saddle-bow; but the fear that
Angelica would also be blinded by its glare discouraged him from
employing it. Then he remembered the ring which Melissa had given
him, the power of which he had so lately proved. He hastened to
Angelica and placed it on her finger. Then, uncovering the
buckler, he turned its bright disk full in the face of the
detestable Orc. The effect was instantaneous. The monster,
deprived of sense and motion, rolled over on the sea, and lay
floating on his back. Rogero would fain have tried the effect of
his lance on the now exposed parts, but Angelica implored him to
lose no time in delivering her from her chains before the monster
should revive. Rogero, moved with her entreaties, hastened to do
so, and, having unbound her, made her mount behind him on the
Hippogriff. The animal, spurning the earth, shot up into the air,
and rapidly sped his way through it. Rogero, to give time to the
princess to rest after her cruel agitations, soon sought the earth
again, alighting on the shore of Brittany. Near the shore a thick
wood presented itself, which resounded with the songs of birds. In
the midst, a fountain of transparent water bathed the turf of a
little meadow. A gentle hill rose near by. Rogero, making the
Hippogriff alight in the meadow, dismounted, and took Angelica
from the horse.

When the first tumults of emotion had subsided Angelica, casting
her eyes downward, beheld the precious ring upon her finger, whose
virtues she was well acquainted with, for it was the very ring
which the Saracen Brunello had robbed her of. She drew it from her
finger and placed it in her mouth, and, quicker than we can tell
it, disappeared from the sight of the paladin.

Rogero looked around him on all sides, like one frantic, but soon
remembered the ring which he had so lately placed on her finger.
Struck with the ingratitude which could thus recompense his
services, he exclaimed: "Thankless beauty, is this then the reward
you make me? Do you prefer to rob me of my ring rather than
receive it as a gift? Willingly would I have given it to you, had
you but asked it." Thus he said, searching on all sides with arms
extended like a blind man, hoping to recover by the touch what was
lost to sight; but he sought in vain. The cruel beauty was already
far away.

Though sensible of her obligations to her deliverer, her first
necessity was for clothing, food, and repose. She soon reached a
shepherd's hut, where, entering unseen, she found what sufficed
for her present relief. An old herdsman inhabited the hut, whose
charges consisted of a drove of mares. When recruited by repose
Angelica selected one of the mares from the flock, and, mounting
the animal, felt the desire revive in her mind of returning to her
home in the East, and for that purpose would gladly have accepted
the protection of Orlando or of Sacripant across those wide
regions which divided her from her own country. In hopes of
meeting with one or the other of them she pursued her way.

Meanwhile Rogero, despairing of seeing Angelica again, returned to
the tree where he had left his winged horse, but had the
mortification to find that the animal had broken his bridle and
escaped. This loss, added to his previous disappointment,
overwhelmed him with vexation. Sadly he gathered up his arms,
threw his buckler over his shoulders, and, taking the first path
that offered, soon found himself within the verge of a dense and
widespread forest.

He had proceeded for some distance when he heard a noise on his
right, and, listening attentively, distinguished the clash of
arms. He made his way toward the place whence the sound proceeded,
and found two warriors engaged in mortal combat. One of them was a
knight of a noble and manly bearing, the other a fierce giant. The
knight appeared to exert consummate address in defending herself
against the massive club of the giant, evading his strokes, or
parrying them with sword or shield. Rogero stood spectator of the
combat, for he did not allow himself to interfere in it, though a
secret sentiment inclined him strongly to take part with the
knight. At length he saw with grief the massive club fall directly
on the head of the knight, who yielded to the blow, and fell
prostrate. The giant sprang forward to despatch him, and for that
purpose unlaced his helmet, when Rogero, with dismay, recognized
the face of Bradamante. He cried aloud, "Hold, miscreant!" and
sprang forward with drawn sword. Whereupon the giant, as if he
cared not to enter upon another combat, lifted Bradamante on his
shoulders, and ran with her into the forest.

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