Books: Legends of Charlemagne

T >> Thomas Bulfinch >> Legends of Charlemagne

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23

Rogero plunged after him, but the long legs of the giant carried
him forward so fast that the paladin could hardly keep him in
sight. At length they issued from the wood, and Rogero perceived
before him a rich palace, built of marble, and adorned with
sculptures executed by a master hand. Into this edifice, through a
golden door, the giant passed, and Rogero followed; but, on
looking round, saw nowhere either the giant or Bradamante. He ran
from room to room, calling aloud on his cowardly foe to turn and
meet him; but got no response, nor caught another glimpse of the
giant or his prey. In his vain pursuit he met, without knowing
them, Ferrau, Florismart, King Gradasso, Orlando, and many others,
all of whom had been entrapped like himself into this enchanted
castle. It was a new stratagem of the magician Atlantes to draw
Rogero into his power, and to secure also those who might by any
chance endanger his safety. What Rogero had taken for Bradamante
was a mere phantom. That charming lady was far away, full of
anxiety for her Rogero, whose coming she had long expected.

The Emperor had committed to her charge the city and garrison of
Marseilles, and she held the post against the infidels with valor
and discretion. One day Melissa suddenly presented herself before
her. Anticipating her questions, she said, "Fear not for Rogero;
he lives, and is as ever true to you; but he has lost his liberty.
The fell enchanter has again succeeded in making him a prisoner.
If you would deliver him, mount your horse and follow me." She
told her in what manner Atlantes had deceived Rogero, in deluding
his eyes with the phantom of herself in peril. "Such," she
continued, "will be his arts in your own case, if you penetrate
the forest and approach that castle. You will think you behold
Rogero, when, in fact, you see only the enchanter himself. Be not
deceived, plunge your sword into his body, and trust me when I
tell you that, in slaying him, you will restore not only Rogero,
but with him many of the bravest knights of France, whom the
wizard's arts have withdrawn from the camp of their sovereign."

Bradamante promptly armed herself, and mounted her horse. Melissa
led her by forced journeys, by field and forest, beguiling the way
with conversation on the theme which interested her hearer most.
When at last they reached the forest, she repeated once more her
instructions, and then took her leave, for fear the enchanter
might espy her, and be put on his guard.

Bradamante rode on about two miles when suddenly she beheld
Rogero, as it appeared to her, hard pressed by two fierce giants.
While she hesitated she heard his voice calling on her for help.
At once the cautions of Melissa lost their weight. A sudden doubt
of the faith and truth of her kind monitress flashed across her
mind. "Shall I not believe my own eyes and ears?" she said, and
rushed forward to his defence. Rogero fled, pursued by the giants,
and Bradamante followed, passing with them through the castle
gate. When there, Bradamante was undeceived, for neither giant nor
knight was to be seen. She found herself a prisoner, but had not
the consolation of knowing that she shared the imprisonment of her
beloved. She saw various forms of men and women, but could
recognize none of them; and their lot was the same with respect to
her. Each viewed the others under some illusion of the fancy,
wearing the semblance of giants, dwarfs, or even four-footed
animals, so that there was no companionship or communication
between them.

ASTOLPHO'S ADVENTURES CONTINUED, AND ISABELLA'S BEGUN

When Astolpho escaped from the cruel Alcina, after a short abode
in the realm of the virtuous Logestilla, he desired to return to
his native country. Logestilla lent him the best vessel of her
fleet to convey him to the mainland. She gave him at parting a
wonderful book, which taught the secret of overcoming all manners
of enchantments, and begged him to carry it always with him, out
of regard for her. She also gave him another gift, which surpassed
everything of the kind that mortal workmanship can frame; yet it
was nothing in appearance but a simple horn.

Astolpho, protected by these gifts, thanked the good fairy, took
leave of her, and set out on his return to France. His voyage was
prosperous, and on reaching the desired port he took leave of the
faithful mariners, and continued his journey by land. As he
proceeded over mountains and through valleys he often met with
bands of robbers, wild beasts, and venomous serpents, but he had
only to sound his horn to put them all to flight.

Having landed in France, and traversed many provinces on his way
to the army, he one day, in crossing a forest, arrived beside a
fountain, and alighted to drink. While he stooped at the fountain
a young rustic sprang from the copse, mounted Rabican, and rode
away. It was a new trick of the enchanter Atlantes. Astolpho,
hearing the noise, turned his head just in time to see his loss;
and, starting up, pursued the thief, who, on his part, did not
press the horse to his full speed, but just kept in sight of his
pursuer till they both issued from the forest; and then Rabican
and his rider took shelter in a castle which stood near. Astolpho
followed, and penetrated without difficulty within the court-yard
of the castle, where he looked around for the rider and his horse,
but could see no trace of either, nor any person of whom he could
make inquiry. Suspecting that enchantment was employed to
embarrass him, he bethought him of his book, and on consulting it
discovered that his suspicions were well founded. He also learned
what course to pursue. He was directed to raise the stone which
served as a threshold, under which a spirit lay pent, who would
willingly escape, and leave the castle free of access. Astolpho
applied his strength to lift aside the stone. Thereupon the
magician put his arts in force. The castle was full of prisoners,
and the magician caused that to all of them Astolpho should appear
in some false guise--to some a wild beast, to others a giant, to
others a bird of prey. Thus all assailed him, and would quickly
have made an end of him, if he had not bethought him of his horn.
No sooner had he blown a blast than, at the horrid larum, fled the
cavaliers and the necromancer with them, like a flock of pigeons
at the sound of the fowler's gun. Astolpho then renewed his
efforts on the stone, and turned it over. The under face was all
inscribed with magical characters, which the knight defaced, as
directed by his book; and no sooner had he done so, than the
castle, with its walls and turrets, vanished into smoke.

The knights and ladies set at liberty were, besides Rogero and
Bradamante, Orlando, Gradasso, Florismart, and many more. At the
sound of the horn they fled, one and all, men and steeds, except
Rabican, which Astolpho secured, in spite of his terror. As soon
as the sound had ceased Rogero recognized Bradamante, whom he had
daily met during their imprisonment, but had been prevented from
knowing by the enchanter's arts. No words can tell the delight
with which they recognized each other, and recounted mutually all
that had happened to each since they were parted. Rogero took
advantage of the opportunity to press his suit, and found
Bradamante as propitious as he could wish, were it not for a
single obstacle, the difference of their faiths. "If he would
obtain her in marriage," she said, "he must in due form demand her
of her father, Duke Aymon, and must abandon his false prophet, and
become a Christian." The latter step was one which Rogero had for
some time intended taking, for reasons of his own. He therefore
gladly accepted the terms, and proposed that they should at once
repair to the abbey of Vallombrosa, whose towers were visible at
no great distance. Thither they turned their horses' heads, and we
will leave them to find their way without our company.

I know not if my readers recollect that at the moment when Rogero
had just delivered Angelica from the voracious Orc that scornful
beauty placed her ring in her mouth, and vanished out of sight. At
the same time the Hippogriff shook off his bridle, soared away,
and flew to rejoin his former master, very naturally returning to
his accustomed stable. Here Astolpho found him, to his very great
delight. He knew the animal's powers, having seen Rogero ride him,
and he longed to fly abroad over all the earth, and see various
nations and peoples from his airy course. He had heard
Logestilla's directions how to guide the animal, and saw her fit a
bridle to his head. He therefore was able, out of all the bridles
he found in the stable, to select one suitable, and, placing
Rabican's saddle on the Hippogriff's back, nothing seemed to
prevent his immediate departure. Yet before he went he bethought
him of placing Rabican in hands where he would be safe, and whence
he might recover him in time of need. While he stood deliberating
where he should find a messenger, he saw Bradamante approach. That
fair warrior had been parted from Rogero on their way to the abbey
of Vallombrosa, by an inopportune adventure which had called the
knight away. She was now returning to Montalban, having arranged
with Rogero to join her there. To Bradamante, therefore, his fair
cousin, Astolpho committed Rabican, and also the lance of gold,
which would only be an incumbrance in his aerial excursion.
Bradamante took charge of both; and Astolpho, bidding her
farewell, soared in air.

Among those delivered by Astolpho from the magician's castle was
Orlando. Following the guide of chance, the paladin found himself
at the close of day in a forest, and stopped at the foot of a
mountain. Surprised to discern a light which came from a cleft in
the rock, he approached, guided by the ray, and discovered a
narrow passage in the mountain-side, which led into a deep grotto.

Orlando fastened his horse, and then, putting aside the bushes
that resisted his passage, stepped down from rock to rock till he
reached a sort of cavern. Entering it, he perceived a lady, young
and handsome, as well as he could discover through the signs of
distress which agitated her countenance. Her only companion was an
old woman, who seemed to be regarded by her young partner with
terror and indignation. The courteous paladin saluted the women
respectfully, and begged to know by whose barbarity they had been
subjected to such imprisonment.

The younger lady replied, in a voice often broken with sobs:

"Though I know well that my recital will subject me to worse
treatment by the barbarous man who keeps me here, to whom this
woman will not fail to report it, yet I will not hide from you the
facts. Ah! why should I fear his rage? If he should take my life,
I know not what better boon than death I can ask.

"My name is Isabella. I am the daughter of the king of Galicia, or
rather I should say misfortune and grief are my parents. Young,
rich, modest, and of tranquil temper, all things appeared to
combine to render my lot happy. Alas! I see myself to-day poor,
humbled, miserable, and destined perhaps to yet further
afflictions. It is a year since, my father having given notice
that he would open the lists for a tournament at Bayonne, a great
number of chevaliers from all quarters came together at our court.
Among these Zerbino, son of the king of Scotland, victorious in
all combats, eclipsed by his beauty and his valor all the rest.
Before departing from the court of Galicia he testified the wish
to espouse me, and I consented that he should demand my hand of
the king, my father. But I was a Mahometan, and Zerbino a
Christian, and my father refused his consent. The prince, called
home by his father to take command of the forces destined to the
assistance of the French Emperor, prevailed on me to be married to
him secretly, and to follow him to Scotland. He caused a galley to
be prepared to receive me, and placed in command of it the
chevalier Oderic, a Biscayan, famous for his exploits both by land
and sea. On the day appointed, Oderic brought his vessel to a
seaside resort of my father's, where I embarked. Some of my
domestics accompanied me, and thus I departed from my native land.

"Sailing with a fair wind, after some hours we were assailed by a
violent tempest. It was to no purpose that we took in all sail; we
were driven before the wind directly upon the rocky shore. Seeing
no other hopes of safety, Oderic placed me in a boat, followed
himself with a few of his men, and made for land. We reached it
through infinite peril, and I no sooner felt the firm land beneath
my feet, than I knelt down and poured out heartfelt thanks to the
Providence that had preserved me.

"The shore where we landed appeared to be uninhabited. We saw no
dwelling to shelter us, no road to lead us to a more hospitable
spot. A high mountain rose before us, whose base stretched into
the sea. It was here the infamous Oderic, in spite of my tears and
entreaties, sold me to a band of pirates, who fancied I might be
an acceptable present to their prince, the Sultan of Morocco. This
cavern is their den, and here they keep me under the guard of this
woman, until it shall suit their convenience to carry me away."

Isabella had hardly finished her recital when a troop of armed men
began to enter the cavern. Seeing the prince Orlando, one said to
the rest, "What bird is this we have caught, without even setting
a snare for him?" Then addressing Orlando, "It was truly civil in
you, friend, to come hither with that handsome coat of armor and
vest, the very things I want." "You shall pay for them, then,"
said Orlando; and seizing a half-burnt brand from the fire, he
hurled it at him, striking his head, and stretching him lifeless
on the floor.

There was a massy table in the middle of the cavern, used for the
pirates' repasts. Orlando lifted it and hurled it at the robbers
as they stood clustered in a group toward the entrance. Half the
gang were laid prostrate, with broken heads and limbs; the rest
got away as nimbly as they could.

Leaving the den and its inmates to their fate, Orlando, taking
Isabella under his protection, pursued his way for some days,
without meeting with any adventure.

One day they saw a band of men advancing, who seemed to be
guarding a prisoner, bound hand and foot, as if being carried to
execution. The prisoner was a youthful cavalier, of a noble and
ingenuous appearance. The band bore the ensigns of Count Anselm,
head of the treacherous house of Maganza. Orlando desired Isabella
to wait, while he rode forward to inquire the meaning of this
array. Approaching, he demanded of the leader who his prisoner
was, and of what crime he had been guilty. The man replied that
the prisoner was a murderer, by whose hand Pinabel, the son of
Count Anselm, had been treacherously slain. At these words the
prisoner exclaimed, "I am no murderer, nor have I been in any way
the cause of the young man's death." Orlando, knowing the cruel
and ferocious character of the chiefs of the house of Maganza,
needed no more to satisfy him that the youth was the victim of
injustice. He commanded the leader of the troop to release his
victim, and, receiving an insolent reply, dashed him to the earth
with a stroke of his lance; then by a few vigorous blows dispersed
the band, leaving deadly marks on those who were slowest to quit
the field.

Orlando then hastened to unbind the prisoner, and to assist him to
reclothe himself in his armor, which the false Magencian had dared
to assume. He then led him to Isabella, who now approached the
scene of action. How can we picture the joy, the astonishment,
with which Isabella recognized in him Zerbino, her husband, and
the prince discovered her whom he had believed overwhelmed in the
waves! They embraced one another, and wept for joy. Orlando,
sharing in their happiness, congratulated himself in having been
the instrument of it. The princess recounted to Zerbino what the
illustrious paladin had done for her, and the prince threw himself
at Orlando's feet, and thanked him as having twice preserved his
life.

While these exchanges of congratulation and thankfulness were
going on, a sound in the underwood attracted their attention, and
caused the two knights to brace their helmets and stand on their
guard. What the cause of the interruption was we shall record in
another chapter.

MEDORO

France was at this time the theatre of dreadful events. The
Saracens and the Christians, in numerous encounters, slew one
another. On one occasion Rinaldo led an attack on the infidel
columns, broke and scattered them, till he found himself opposite
to a knight whose armor (whether by accident or by choice, it
matters not) bore the blazon of Orlando. It was Dardinel, the
young and brave prince of Zumara, and Rinaldo remarked him by the
slaughter he spread all around. "Ah," said he to himself, "let us
pluck up this dangerous plant before it has grown to its full
height."

As Rinaldo advanced, the crowd opened before him, the Christians
to let his sword have free course, the Pagans to escape its sweep.
Dardinel and he stood face to face. Rinaldo exclaimed, fiercely,
"Young man, whoever gave you that noble buckler to bear made you a
dangerous gift; I should like to see how you are able to defend
those quarterings, red and white. If you cannot defend them
against me, how pray will you do so when Orlando challenges them?"
Dardinel replied: "Thou shalt learn that I can defend the arms I
bear, and shed new glory upon them. No one shall rend them from me
but with life." Saying these words, Dardinel rushed upon Rinaldo
with sword uplifted. The chill of mortal terror filled the souls
of the Saracens when they beheld Rinaldo advance to attack the
prince, like a lion against a young bull. The first blow came from
the hand of Dardinel, and the weapon rebounded from Mambrino's
helmet without effect. Rinaldo smiled, and said, "I will now show
you if my strokes are more effectual." At these words he thrust
the unfortunate Dardinel in the middle of his breast. The blow was
so violent that the cruel weapon pierced the body, and came out a
palm-breadth behind his back. Through this wound the life of
Dardinel issued with his blood, and his body fell helpless to the
ground.

As a flower which the passing plough has uprooted languishes, and
droops its head, so Dardinel, his visage covered with the paleness
of death, expires, and the hopes of an illustrious race perish
with him.

Like waters kept back by a dike, which, when the dike is broken,
spread abroad through all the country, so the Moors, no longer
kept in column by the example of Dardinel, fled in all directions.
Rinaldo despised too much such easy victories to pursue them; he
wished for no combats but with brave men. At the same time, the
other paladins made terrible slaughter of the Moors. Charles
himself, Oliver, Guido, and Ogier the Dane, carried death into
their ranks on all sides.

The infidels seemed doomed to perish to a man on that dreadful
day; but the wise king, Marsilius, at last put some slight degree
of method into the general rout. He collected the remnant of the
troops, formed them into a battalion, and retreated in tolerable
order to his camp. That camp was well fortified by intrenchments
and a broad ditch. Thither the fugitives hastened, and by degrees
all that remained of the Moorish army was brought together there.

The Emperor might perhaps that night have crushed his enemy
entirely; but not thinking it prudent to expose his troops,
fatigued as they were, to an attack upon a camp so well fortified,
he contented himself with encompassing the enemy with his troops,
prepared to make a regular siege. During the night the Moors had
time to see the extent of their loss. Their tents resounded with
lamentations. This warrior had to mourn a brother, that a friend;
many suffered with grievous wounds, all trembled at the fate in
store for them.

There were two young Moors, both of humble rank, who gave proof at
that time of attachment and fidelity rare in the history of man.
Cloridan and Medoro had followed their prince, Dardinel, to the
wars of France. Cloridan, a bold huntsman, combined strength with
activity. Medoro was a mere youth, his cheeks yet fair and
blooming. Of all the Saracens, no one united so much grace and
beauty. His light hair was set off by his black and sparkling
eyes. The two friends were together on guard at the rampart. About
midnight they gazed on the scene in deep dejection. Medoro, with
tears in his eyes, spoke of the good prince Dardinel, and could
not endure the thought that his body should be cast out on the
plain, deprived of funeral honors. "O my friend," said he, "must
then the body of our prince be the prey of wolves and ravens?
Alas! when I remember how he loved me, I feel that if I should
sacrifice my life to do him honor, I should not do more than my
duty. I wish, dear friend, to seek out his body on the
battlefield, and give it burial, and I hope to be able to pass
through King Charles's camp without discovery, as they are
probably all asleep. You, Cloridan, will be able to say for me, if
I should die in the adventure, that gratitude and fidelity to my
prince were my inducements."

Cloridan was both surprised and touched with this proof of the
young man's devotion. He loved him tenderly, and tried for a long
time every effort to dissuade him from his design; but he found
Medoro determined to accomplish his object or die in the endeavor.

Cloridan, unable to change his purpose, said, "I will go with you,
Medoro, and help you in this generous enterprise. I value not life
compared with honor, and if I did, do you suppose, dear friend,
that I could live without you? I would rather fall by the arms of
our enemies than die of grief for the loss of you."

When the two friends were relieved from their guard duty they went
without any followers into the camp of the Christians. All there
was still; the fires were dying out; there was no fear of any
attempt on the part of the Saracens, and the soldiers, overcome by
fatigue or wine, slept secure, lying upon the ground in the midst
of their arms and equipage. Cloridan stopped, and said, "Medoro, I
am not going to quit this camp without taking vengeance for the
death of our prince. Keep watch, be on your guard that no one
shall surprise us; I mean to mark a road with my sword through the
ranks of our enemies." So saying, he entered the tent where
Alpheus slept, who a year before had joined the camp of Charles,
and pretended to be a great physician and astrologer. But his
science had deceived him, if it gave him hope of dying peacefully
in his bed at a good old age; his lot was to die with little
warning. Cloridan ran his sword through his heart. A Greek and a
German followed, who had been playing late at dice: fortunate if
they had continued their game a little longer; but they never
reckoned a throw like this among their chances. Cloridan next came
to the unlucky Grillon, whose head lay softly on his pillow. He
dreamed probably of the feast from which he had but just retired;
for when Cloridan cut off his head wine flowed forth with the
blood.

The two young Moors might have penetrated even to the tent of
Charlemagne; but knowing that the paladins encamped around him
kept watch by turns, and judging that it was impossible they
should all be asleep, they were afraid to go too near. They might
also have obtained rich booty; but, intent only on their object,
they crossed the camp, and arrived at length at the bloody field,
where bucklers, lances, and swords lay scattered in the midst of
corpses of poor and rich, common soldier and prince, horses and
pools of blood. This terrible scene of carnage would have
destroyed all hope of finding what they were in search of until
dawn of day, were it not that the moon lent the aid of her
uncertain rays.

Medoro raised his eyes to the planet, and exclaimed, "O holy
goddess, whom our fathers have adored under three different
forms,--thou who displayest thy power in heaven, on earth, and in
the underworld,--thou who art seen foremost among the nymphs
chasing the beasts of the forest,--cause me to see, I implore
thee, the spot where my dear master lies, and make me all my life
long follow the example which thou dost exhibit of works of
charity and love."

Either by accident, or that the moon was sensible of the prayer of
Medoro, the cloud broke away, and the moonlight burst forth as
bright as day. The rays seemed especially to gild the spot where
lay the body of Prince Dardinel; and Medoro, bathed in tears and
with bleeding heart, recognized him by the quarterings of red and
white on his shield.

With groans stifled by his tears, and lamentations in accents
suppressed, not from any fear for himself, for he cared not for
life, but lest any one should be roused to interrupt their pious
duty while yet incomplete, he proposed to his companion that they
should together bear Dardinel on their shoulders, sharing the
burden of the beloved remains.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23