1532

ORLANDO FURIOSO
Lodovico Ariosto

translated by John Harington

Ariosto, Lodovico (1474-1533) - Italian poet whose spent most of his life in
service to the House of Este. His poetry was popular in his day, but he is best-known
for his enduring masterpiece, Orlando Furioso,(Roland Mad). Orlando Fu-rioso
(1532) - One of the most important works of early Italian literature, this epic
poem consists of a number of stories centering around Orlando and other knights
of Charlemagne. It was written as a continuation of the unfinished and lesser-known
Orlando Innamorato, by Boiardo.

Table Of Contents

TRANSLATORŐS DEDICATION . . . . . . . . . . . 6
THE FIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . . 8
THE SECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 44
THE THIRD BOOK OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 78
THE FOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 107
THE FIFTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 134
THE SIXTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 175
THE SEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 211
THE EIGHT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 242
THE NINTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 278
THE TENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . . 317
THE ELEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 360
THE TWELFTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . . 390
THE THIRTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 422
THE FOURTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 452
THE FIFTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 501
THE SIXTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 538
THE SEVENTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 567
THE EIGHTEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 607
THE NINETEENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 649
THE TWENTIETH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 681
THE TWENTYFIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 725
THE TWENTYSECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 757
THE TWENTYTHIRD BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 792
THE TWENTYFOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 840
THE TWENTYFIFT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 883
THE TWENTYSIXT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 918
THE TWENTYSEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO 962
THE TWENTYEIGHT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1012
THE TWENTYNINTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1055
THE THIRTIETH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1087
THE THIRTYFIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1127
THE THIRTYSECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1167
THE THIRTYTHIRD BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1213
THE THIRTYFOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1265
THE THIRTYFIFT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1306
THE THIRTYSIXTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1341
THE THIRTYSEVENTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . 1378
THE THIRTYEIGHT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1424
THE THIRTYNINTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1465
THE FORTIETH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1503
THE FORTYFIRST BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1538
THE FORTYSECOND BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1580
THE FORTYTHIRD BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1617
THE FORTYFOURTH BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . 1700
THE FORTYFIFT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1743
THE FORTYSIXT BOOKE OF ORLANDO FURIOSO . . . 1793
TRANSLATORS DEDICATION


TO THE MOST EXCELLENT
VERTUOUS, AND NOBLE PRINCESSE,
ELIZABETH,
BY THE GRACE OF GOD, QUEENE OF
ENGLAND, FRANCE AND IRELAND,
DEFENDER OF THE FAITH, &c.

MOST renowned (and most worthy to be most renowned)
Soveraigne Ladie; I presume to offer to your Highnesse this first
part of the fruit of the little garden of my slender skill. It hath been
the longer in growing, and is the lesse worthy the gathering, be-cause
my ground is barren and too cold for such dainty Italian
fruits, being also perhaps over-shaded with trees of some older
growth: but the beams of your blessed countenance, vouchsafing
to shine on so poore a soile, shall soone disperse all hurtfull mists
that would obscure it, and easily dissolve all (whether they be Mel-dews,
or Fel-dews) that would sterve this shallow set plant. I de-sire
to be briefe, because I love to be plaine. Whatsoever I am or
can, is your Majesties. Your gracious favours have been extended
in my poore family even to the third generation, your bounty to us
and our heires. Wherefore this (though unperfect and unworthy
worke) I humbly recommend to that gracious protection, under
which I enjoy all in which I can take joy.
If your Highnesse will read it, who dare reject it? if allow it,
who can reproove it? if protect it, what MOMUS barking, or ZOI-LUS
biting can any way hurt or annoy it? And thus most humbly
craving pardon for this boldnesse, I cease to write, though I will
not cease to wish, that your high felicities may never cease.
Your most humble servant,
JOHN HARINGTON.

ARGUMENT
THE FIRST BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Charles hath the foyle, Angelica flies thence:
Renaldos horse holpe him his Love to find:
Ferraw with him doth fight in her defence:
She flies againe, they stay not long behind.
Argalias ghost reproves Ferraws offence,
The Spaniard to new vows himselfe doth bind:
His mistris presence Sacrapant enjoyeth,
With Bradamant, Renaldo him annoyeth.

FIRST BOOKE
1
Of Dames, of Knights, of armes, of loves delight,
Of courtesies, of high attempts I speake,
Then when the Moores transported all their might
On Africke seas, the force of France to breake:
Incited by the youthfull heate and spight
Of Agramant their King, that vowd to wreake
The death of King Trayano (lately slaine)
Upon the Romane Emperour Charlemaine.
2
I will no lesse Orlandos acts declare,
(A tale in prose ne verse yet sung or said)
Who fell bestraught with love, a hap most rare,
To one that erst was counted wise and stayd:
If my sweet Saint that causeth my like care,
My slender muse affoord some gracious ayd,
I make no doubt but I shall have the skill.
As much as I have promist to fulfill.
3
Vouchsafe (O Prince of most renowned race,
The ornament and hope of this our time)
Taccept this gift presented to your grace,
By me your servant rudely here in rime.
And though I paper pay and inke, in place
Of deeper debt, yet take it for no crime:
It may suffice a poore and humble debter,
To say, and if he could it shoulde be bet
4
Here shall you find among the worthy peeres,
Whose praises I prepare to tell in verse,
Rogero, him from whom of auncient yeeres
Your princely stems derived, I reherse:
Whose noble mind by princely acts appeares,
Whose worthy fame even to the skie doth perse:
So you vouchsafe my lowly stile and base,
Among your high conceits a little plase.
5
Orlando who long time had loved deare,
Angelica the faire: and for her sake,
About the world, in nations far and neare,
Did high attempts performe and undertake,
Returnd with her into the West that yeare,
That Charles his power against the Turks did make:
And with the force of Germanie and France,
Neare Pyren Alpes his standard did advance.
6
To make the Kings of Affrike and of Spaine,
Repent their rash attempts and foolish vaunts;
One having brought from Affrike in his traine,
All able men to carry sword or launce,
The other movd the Spaniards now againe
To overthrow the goodly Realme of Fraunce,
And hither (as I said) Orlando went,
But of his comming straight he did repent.
7
For here (behold how humane judgements are,
And how the wiser sort art oft mistaken)
His Ladie whom he guarded had so farre,
Nor had in fights nor dangers great forsaken,
Without the dint of sword or open warre,
Amid his friends away from him was taken.
For Charles the great, a valiant Prince and wise,
Did this to quench a broile that did arise.
8
Betweene Orlando and Renaldo late,
There fell about Angelica some brall,
And each of them began the tother hate,
This Ladies love had made them both so thrall.
But Charles who much mislikes that such debate
Betweene such friends should rise, on cause so small,
To Namus of Bavier in keeping gave her,
And suffred neither of them both to have her.
9
But promist he would presently bestow
The damsell faire, on him that in that fight,
The plainest proofe should of his prowesse show,
And danger most the Pagans with his might,
But (ay the while) the Christians take the blow,
Their souldiers slaine, their Captaines put to flight,
The Duke himselfe a prisner there was taken,
His tent was quite abandond and forsaken.
10
Where when the damsell faire a while had stayd,
That for the victor pointed was a pray,
She tooke her horse, ne farther time delayd,
But secretly convayd her selfe away,
For she foresaw, and was full sore afrayd,
That this to Charles would prove a dismall day.
And riding through a wood, she hapt to meet
A Knight that came against her on his feet.
11
His curats on; his helmet not undone,
His sword and target ready to the same,
And through the wood so swiftly he did runne,
As they that go halfe naked for a game.
But never did a shepheards daughter shunne
More speedily a snake that on her came,
Then faire Angelica did take her flight,
When as she once had knowledge of the Knight.
12
This valiant Knight was Lord of Clarimount,
Duke Ammons sonne, as you shall understand,
Who having lost his horse of good account,
That by mishap was slipt out of his hand,
He followd him, in hope againe to mount,
Untill this Ladies fight did make him stand,
Whose face and shape proportiond were so well,
They seemd the house where love it selfe did dwell.
13
But she that shuns Renaldo all she may,
Upon her horses necke doth lay the raine,
Through thicke and thin she gallopeth away,
Ne makes she choise of beaten way or plaine,
But gives her palfrey leave to chuse the way,
And being movd with feare and with disdaine,
Now up, now downe, she never leaves to ride,
Till she arrived by a river side.
14
Fast by the streame Ferraw she sees anone,
(Who noyd, in part with dust, and part with sweat)
Out of the battell hither came alone,
With drinke his thirst, with aire to swage his heat;
And minding backe againe to have bene gone,
He was detaind with an unlookt for let,
Into the streame by hap his helmet fell,
And how to get it out he cannot tell.
15
And hearing now the noise and mournfull crie
Of one with piteous voice demaunding ayd,
Seeing the damsell eke approching nie,
That nought but helpe against Renaldo prayd,
What wight it was, he guessed by and by,
Though looking pale, like one that had bene frayd,
And though she had not late bene in his sight,
He thought it was Angelica the bright.
16
And being both a stout and courteous Knight,
And love a little kindling in his brest,
He promist straight to aide her all he might,
And to performe what ever she request.
And though he want an helmet, yet to fight
With bold Renaldo he will do his best.
And both the one, the other straight defied,
Oft having either others value tried.
17
Betweene them two a combat fierce began,
With strokes that might have pierst the hardest rocks.
While they thus fight on foote, and man to man,
And give and take so hard and heavy knocks,
Away the damsell posteth all she can,
Their paine and travell she requites with mocks.
So hard she rode while they were at their fight,
That she was cleane escaped out of sight.
18
When they long time contended had in vaine,
Who should remaine the master in the field,
And that with force, with cunning, nor with paine,
The tone of them could make the other yeeld,
Renaldo first did move the Knight of Spaine
(Although he usd such curtesie but seeld)
To make a truce; ne was he to be blamed,
For love his heart to other fight inflamed.
19
You thought (said he) to hinder me alone,
But you have hurt your selfe as much or more,
You see the faire Angelica is gone,
So soone we leese that earst we fought so sore.
Had you me tane or slaine, your gaine were none,
Sith you were nere the nere your love therfore.
For while we two have made this little stay,
She lets us both alone and goes her way.
20
But if you love the Ladie, as you say,
Then let us both agree to find her out,
To have her first will be our wisest way,
And when of holding her there is no doubt,
Then by consent let her remaine his pray,
That with his sword can prove himselfe most stout,
I see not else after our long debate,
How either of us can amend his state.
21
Ferraw (that felt small pleasure in the fight)
Agreed a sound and friendly league to make:
They lay aside all wrath and malice quight,
And at the parting from the running lake,
The Pagan would not let the Christen Knight
To follow him on foote, for manners sake:
But prayes him mount behind his horses backe,
And so they seeke the damsell by the tracke.
22
O auncient Knights of true and noble hart,
They rivals were, one faith they livd not under,
Beside they felt their bodies shrewdly smart
Of blowes late given, and yet (behold a wonder)
Through thicke and thin, suspition set apart,
Like friends they ride, and parted not asunder,
Untill the horse with double spurring drived,
Unto a way, which parts in two, arrived.
23
And being neither able to descrie
Which way was gone Angelica the bright,
Because the tracke of horses feet, whereby
They seeke her out, appeare alike in sight:
They part, and either will his fortune try,
The left hand one, the other takes the right.
The Spaniard when he wandred had a while,
Came whence he went, the way did him beguile.
24
He was arrivd but there, with all his paine,
Where in the foord he let his helmet fall,
And of his Ladie (whom he lovd in vaine)
He now had little hope, or none at all.
His helmet now he thinkes to get againe,
And seekes it out, but seeke it while he shall,
It was so deeply sunken in the sand,
He cannot get it out at any hand.
25
Hard by the banke a tall yong Popler grew,
Which he cut downe, thereof a pole to make,
With which each place in feeling and in vew,
To find his scull he up and downe doth rake,
But lo a hap unlookt for doth ensew,
While he such needlesse frutelesse paine doth take,
He saw a Knight arise out of the brooke,
Breasthie, with visage grim, and angry looke.
26
The Knight was armd at all points save the hed,
And in his hand he held the helmet plaine,
That very helmet that such care had bred
In him that late had sought it with such paine.
And looking grimly on Ferraw, he sed,
Ah faithlesse wretch, in promise false and vaine,
It greeves thee now this helmet so to misse,
That should of right be rendred long ere this.
27
Remember (cruell Pagan) when you killed
Me, brother to Angelica the bright:
You said you would (as I then dying willed)
Mine armour drowne, when finisht were the fight,
Now if that fortune have the thing fulfilled,
Which thou thy self sholdst have performd in right,
Greeve not thy selfe, or if thou wilt be greeved,
Greeve that thy promise cannot be beleeved.
28
But if to want an helmet thou repine,
Get one wherewith thine honour thou maist save,
Such hath Orlando Countie Paladine,
Renaldo such, or one perchance more brave,
That was from Almont tane, this from Mambrine:
Win one of these; that, thou with praise maist have,
And as for this, surecase to seeke it more,
But leave it as thou promisd me before.
29
Ferraw was much amazd to see the sprite,
That made this strange appearance unexpected,
His voice was gone, his haire did stand upright,
His senses all were so to feare subjected.
His heart did swell with anger and despight,
To heare his breach of promise thus objected,
And that Argalia (so the Knight was named)
With just reproofe could make him thus ashamed.
30
And wanting time, the matter to excuse,
And being guiltie of no litle blame,
He rested mute, and in a senslesse muse,
So sore his heart was tainted with the shame.
And by Lanfusas life he vowd to use
No helmet, till such time he gat the same,
Which from the stout Almont Orlando wan,
When as they two encountted man to man.
31
But he this vow to keepe more firmely ment,
And kept it better then the first he made,
Away he parted hence a malcontent,
And many daies ensuing rested sad.
To seeke Orlando out is his intent,
With whom to fight he would be very glad,
But now what haps unto Renaldo fell,
That tooke the other way, tis time to tell.
32
Not farre he walkt, but he his horse had spide,
That praunsing went before him on the way,
Holla my boy holla (Renaldo cride)
The want of thee annoyd me much to day.
But Bayard will not let his master ride,
But takes his heeles and faster goes away.
His flight much anger in Renaldo bred:
But follow we Angelica that fled.
33
That fled through woods and deserts all obscure,
Through places uninhabited and wast,
Ne could she yet repute her selfe secure,
But farther still she gallopeth in hast.
Each leafe that stirres in her doth feare procure,
And maketh her affrighted and agast:
Each noise she heares, each shadow she doth see,
She doth mistrust it should Renaldo be.
34
Like to a fawne, or kid of bearded goate,
That in the wood a tyger fierce espide,
To kill her dam, and first to teare the throate,
And then to feed upon the hanch or side,
Both feare lest she might light on such a lot,
And seeke it selfe in thickest brackes to hide,
And thinkes each noise the wind or aire doth cause,
It selfe in danger of the tygers clawes.
35
That day and night she wandred here and there,
And halfe the other day that did ensue,
Untill at last she was arrived where
A fine yong grove with pleasant shadow grew,
Neare to the which two little rivers were,
Whose moisture did the tender herbes renew,
And make a sweete and very pleasing sound,
By running on the sand and stonie ground.
36
Here she at last her selfe in safetie thought,
As being from Renaldo many a mile,
Tyrd with annoy the heate and travell brought,
She thinkes it best with sleepe the time beguile,
And having first a place convenient sought,
She lets her horse refresh his limbes the while,
Who fed upon the bankes well clothd with grasse,
And dranke the river water cleere as glasse.
37
Hard by the brooke an arbor she descride,
Wherein grew faire and very fragrant floures,
With roses sweet, and other trees beside,
Wherewith the place adornes the native boures,
So fenced in with shades on either side,
Safe from the heate of late or early houres,
The boughes and leaves so cunningly were mixt,
No sunne, no light, could enter them betwixt .
38
Within, the tender herbes a bed do make,
Inviting folke to take their rest and ease:
Here meanes this Ladie faire a nap to take,
And fals to sleepe, the place so well doth please.
Not long she lay, but her a noise did wake,
The trampling of a horse did her disease,
And looking out as secret as she might,
To come all armd she saw a comely Knight.
39
She knowes not yet if he be foe or friend,
Twixt hope and feare she doubtfully doth stand,
And what he meanes to do she doth attend,
And who it was she faine would understand.
The Knight did to the river side descend,
And resting downe his head upon his hand,
All in a muse he sitteth still alone,
Like one transformd into a marble stone.
40
He tarrid in this muse an houre and more,
With looke cast downe in sad and heavie guise,
At last he did lament his hap so sore,
Yet in so sweete and comely mournefull wise,
So hard a heart no tyger ever bore,
But would have heard such plaints with warrish eies.
His heart did seeme a mountaine full of flame,
His cheekes a streame of teares to quench the same.
41
Alas (said he) what meanes this divers passion?
I burne as fire, and yet as frost I freese,
I still lament, and yet I move compassion,
I come too late, and all my labour leese.
I had but words and lookes for shew and fashion,
But others get the game, and gainefull fees:
If neither fruite nor floure come to my part,
Why should her love consume my carefull hart?
42
Like to the rose I count the virgine pure,
That growth on native stem in garden faire,
Which while it stands with wals environd sure,
Where heardmen with their heards cannot repaire
To favor it, it seemeth to allure
The morning deaw, the heate, the earth, the aire.
Yong gallant men, and lovely dames delight
In their sweet sent, and in their pleasing sight.
43
But when at once tis gathered and gone,
From proper stalke, where late before it grew,
The love, the liking little is or none,
Both favour, grace and beautie all adew.
So when a virgin grants to one alone
The precious floure for which so many sew,
Well he that getteth it may love her best,
But she forgoes the love of all the rest.
44
She may deserve his love, but others hate,
To whom of love she shewd her selfe so scant,
(Oh then my cruell fortune or my fate)
Others have store, but I am starvd with want:
Then leave to love this ladie so ungrate:
Nay live to love (behold I soone recant)
Yea first let life from these my limbs be rent,
Ere I to change my love shall give consent.
45
If some perhaps desirous are to know,
What wight it was with sorrow so opprest,
Twas Sacrapant that was afflicted so,
And love had bred this torment in his brest:
That trickling wound, that flattring cruell foe,
Most happie they that know and have it least.
The love of her I say procurd his woe,
And she had heard and knew it long ago.
46
Her love allurd him from the Easterne land,
Unto the Westerne shores, where sets the Sunne,
And here he heard how by Orlandos hand,
A passage safe from thIndies she had wonne.
Her sequestration he did understand,
That Charles had made, and how the same was done
To make the Knights more venterous and bold,
In fighting for the Floure de luce of gold.
47
And furthermore himselfe had present bene
When Charles his men were overthrowne and slaine
Since then, he traveld farre to find this Queene,
But hitherto it hath bene all in vaine.
Now much despaire, and little hope betweene,
So rufully thereof he doth complaine,
And with such wailing words his woes rehearst,
As might the hardest stonie heart have pearst.
48
And while in this most dolefull state he bides,
And sighes full oft, and sheddeth many a teare,
And speakes these same, and many words besides,
(Which I to tell for want of time forbeare)
His noble fortune so for him provides,
That all this came unto his mistresse eare,
And in one moment he prevailed more
Then he had done in many yeares before.
49
Angelica with great attention hard,
The mone, and plaint, that him tormented sore,
Who long had loved her, with great regard,
As she had triall, many yeares before,
Yet as a marble pillar cold and hard,
She not inclines to pittie him the more.
Like one that all the world doth much disdaine,
And deemeth none worthie her love againe.
50
But being now with danger compast round,
She thought it best to take him for her guide,
For one that were in water almost drownd,
Were very stout, if for no helpe he cride:
If she let passe the fortune now she found,
She thinkes to want the like another tyde.
And furthermore for certaine this she knew,
That Sacrapant had beene her lover true.
51
Ne meant she tho to quench the raging fires,
That ay consumd his faithfull loving heart,
Ne yet with that a lover most desires,
Tasswage the paine in all, or yet in part:
She meanes he first shall pull her from the briers,
And feed him then with words and womens art,
To make him first of all to serve her turne,
That done, to wonted coynesse to returne.
52
Unto the river side she doth descend,
And toward him most goddesse like she came,
And said, all peace to thee my dearest friend,
With modest looke, and cald him by his name,
And further said, the Gods and you defend
My chastity, mine honour and my fame,
And never grant by their divine permission,
That I give cause of any such suspition.
53
With how great joy a mothers minde is fild,
To see a sonne, for whom she long had mourned,
Whom she heard late in battell to be kild,
And saw the troopes without him home returned,
Such joy had Sacrapant when he behild,
His Ladie deere: his teares to smiles are turned,
To see her beautie rare, her comely favour,
Her princely presence, and her stately havour.
54
Like one all ravisht with her heavenly face,
Unto his loved Ladie he doth runne,
Who was content in armes him to embrace,
Which she perhaps at home would not have done,
But doubting now the dangerous time and place,
She must go forward as she hath begun,
In hope by his good service and assistance,
To make her home returne without resistance.
55
And in most lovly manner she doth tell,
The strange adventures, and the divers chance,
That since they two did part to her befell,
Both on the way, and since she came to France:
And how Orlando used her right well,
Defending her from danger and mischance,
And that his noble force and magnanimitie,
Had still preservd the floure of her virginity.
56
It might be true, but sure it was incredible,
To tell to one that were discreet and wise,
But unto Sacrapant it seemed possible,
Because that love had dasled so his eyes:
Love causeth what is seene, to seeme invisible,
And makes of things not seene, a shape to rise.
It is a proverbe used long ago,
We soone beleeve the thing we would have so.
57
But to himselfe thus Sacrapant doth say,
Bit that my Lord of Anglant were so mad,
To take no pleasure of so faire a pray,
When he both time and place, and power had,
Yet am not I obliged any way,
To imitate a president so bad,
Ile rather take my pleasure while I may,
Then waile my want of wit another day.
58
Ile gather now the fresh and fragrant rose,
Whose beautie may with standing still be spent,
One cannot do a thing (as I suppose)
That better can a womans mind content:
Well may they seeme much grieved for a glose,
And weepe and waile, and dolefully lament,
There shall no foolish plaints, nor fained ire,
Hinder me to encarnat my desire.
59
This said, forthwith he did himselfe prepare,
Tassault the fort that easly would be wonne,
But loe a sodaine hap that bred new care,
And made him cease his enterprise begonne,
For of an enemy he was aware,
He claspt his helmet late before undone,
And armed all, he mounteth one his beast,
And standeth ready with his speare in rest.
60
Behold a warrior whom he did not know,
Came downe the wood in semblance like a Knight,
The furniture was all as white as snow,
And in the helme a plume of fethers white.
King Sacrapant by proofe doth plainely show,
That he doth take the thing in great despite,
To be disturbd and hindred from that pleasure,
That he preferd before all other treasure.
61
Approching nie, the warrior he defide,
And hopes to set him quite beside the seat:
The other with such loftie words replide,
As persons use, in choler and in heat.
At last when glorious vaunts were laid aside,
They come to strokes and each to do his feat,
Doth couch his speare, and running thus they sped,
Their coursers both encountred hed to hed.
62
As Lions meete, or Buls in pastures greene,
With teeth & hornes, & staine with bloud the field,
Such eger fight these warriers was betweene,
And eithers speare had pearst the tothers sheild,
The sound that of these strokes had raised beene,
An eccho lowd along the vale did yeeld.
Twas happie that their curats were so good,
The Lances else had pierced to the blood.
63
For quite unable now about to wheele,
They butt like rammes, the one the others head,
Whereof the Pagans horse such paine did feele,
That ere long space had past he fell down dead.
The tothers horse a little gan to reele,
But being spurd, full quickly up he sped.
The Pagans horse thus overthrowne and slaine,
Fell backward greatly to his masters paine.
64
That unknowne champion seeing thother downe,
His horse upon him lying dead in vew,
Expecting in this fight no more renowne,
Determind not the battell to renew.
But by the way that leadeth from the towne,
The first appointed journey doth pursew,
And was now ridden halfe a mile at least,
Before the Pagan parted from his beast.
65
Like as the tiller of the fruitfull ground,
With sodaine storme and tempest is astonishd
Who sees the flash, and heares the thunders sound,
And for their masters sakes, the cattell punishd,
Or when by hap a faire old pine he found,
By force of raging winds his leaves diminishd,
So stood amazd the Pagan in the place,
His Ladie present at the wofull case.
66
He fetcht a sigh most deepely from his heart,
Not that he had put out of joynt, or lamed
His arme, his legge, or any other part,
But chiefly he his evill fortune blamed,
At such a time, to hap so overthwart,
Before his love, to make him so ashamed:
And had not she some cause of speech found out,
He had remained speechlesse out of doubt.
67
My Lord (said she) what ailes you be so sad?
The want was not in you, but in your steed,
For whom a stable, or a pasture had
Beene fitter then a course at tilt indeed.
Nor is that adverse partie very glad,
As well appeares, that paried with such speed,
For in my judgement they be said to yeeld,
That first leave off, and do depart the feeld.
68
Thus while she gives him comfort all she may,
Behold there came a messenger in post,
Blowing his horne, and riding downe the way,
Where he before his horse, and honor lost,
And comming nearer he of them doth pray,
To tell if they had seene passe by that cost,
A champion armd at all points like a Knight,
The shield, the horse, and armour all of white.
69
I have both seene the Knight, and felt his force,
(Said Sacrapant) for here before you came,
He cast me downe and also kild my horse,
Ne know I (that doth greeve me most) his name.
Sir (quoth the post) the name I will not force,
To tell, sith you desire to know the same,
First, know that you were conquerd in this fight,
By valour of a damsell faire and bright.
70
Of passing strength, but of more passing hew,
And Bradamant, this damsell faire is named,
She was the wight, whose meeting you may rew,
And all your life hereafter be ashamed.
This said, he turnd his horse and bad adew.
But Sacrapant with high disdaine enflamed,
Was first so wroth, and then so shamd thereto,
He knew not what to say, nor what to do.
71
And after he had staid a while and musd,
That at a womans hands he had received
Such a disgrace as could not be excusd,
Nor how he might revenge it he perceived,
With thought hereof his mind was so confusd,
He stood like one of wit and sense bereaved.
At last he goth, a better place to finde,
He takes her horse and makes her mount behind.
72
Now having rode a mile, or thereabout,
They heard a noise, a trampling on the ground,
They thought it was some company or rout,
That caused in the woods so great a sound:
At last they see a warlike horse, and stout,
With guilded barb, that cost full many a pound,
No hedge, no ditch, no wood, no water was,
That stopped him where he was bent to passe.
73
Angelica casting her eye aside:
Except (said she) mine eies all dazled be,
I have that famous horse Bayardo spide,
Come trotting downe the wood, as seemes to me:
(How well for us our fortune doth provide)
It is the very same, I know tis he:
On one poore nag to ride we two were loth,
And here he commeth fit to serve us both.
74
King Sacrapant alighted by and by,
And thinkes to take him gently by the raine,
But with his heeles the horse doth streight reply,
As who should say, his rule he did disdaine.
It happie was he stood the beast not nye,
For it he had, it had beene to his paine,
For why, such force the horse had in his heele,
He would have burst a mountaine all of steele.
75
But to the damsell gently he doth go,
In humble manner, and in lowly sort,
A spaniell after absence fauneth so,
And seekes to make his master play, and sport,
For Bayard cald to mind the damsell tho,
When she unto Albracca did resort,
And usd to feed him for his masters sake,
Whom she then lovd, and he did her forsake.
76
She takes the bridle boldly in her hand,
And strokt his brest, and necke, with art and skill:
The horse that had great wit to understand,
Like to a lambe, by her he standeth still,
And while Bayardo gently there did stand,
The Pagan got him up, and had his will.
And she that erst to ride behind was faine,
Into her saddle mounted now againe.
77
And being newly setled in her seate,
She saw a man on foote all armed runne,
Straight in her mind she gan to chafe and fret,
Because she knew it was Duke Ammons sonne,
Most earnestly he sude her love to get,
More earnestly she seekes his love to shunne.
Once she lovd him, he hated her as much,
And now he loves, she hates, his hap was such.
78
The cause of this first from two fountaines grew,
Like in the tast, but in effects unlike,
Placd in Ardenna, each in others vew,
Who tasts the one, loves dart his heart doth strike,
Contrary of the other doth ensew,
Who drinke thereof, their lovers shall mislike.
Renaldo dranke of one, and love him pained,
Shee drunke the other and his love disdained.
79
The liquor thus with secret venim mingled,
Makes her to stand so stiffely in the nay,
On whom Renaldos heart was wholy kindled,
Though scarce to looke on him she can away,
But from his sight desiring to be singled,
With soft low voice the Pagan she doth pray,
That he approch no nearer to this Knight,
But flie away with all the speed he might.
80
Why then (quoth he) make you so small esteeme,
Of me, as though that I to him should yeeld?
So weake and faint my forces do you deeme,
That safe from him your selfe I cannot shield?
Then you forget Albracca it should seeme,
And that same night, when I amid the field,
Alone unarmed did defend you then,
Against King Agrican and all his men.
81
No sir, said she (ne knowes she what to say)
Because Renaldo now approcht so nie,
And threatned so the Pagan in the way,
When under him his horse he did espie,
And saw the damsell taken as a pray,
In whose defence he meanes to live and die.
But what fell out betweene these warriers fearce,
Within the second booke I do rehearse.
ARGUMENT
THE SECOND BOOKE OF
ORLANDO FURIOSO
A Frire betweene two rivals parts the fray,
By magicke art: Renaldo hasteth home,
But in embassage he is sent away,
When tempest makes the sea to rage and fome.
Bradamant seekes her spouse, but by the way,
While she about the country wyld did rome,
Met Pinnabel, who by a craftie traine,
Both sought, and thought the Ladie to have slaine.
SECOND BOOKE
1
O Blind god Love, why takst thou such delight,
With darts of divers force our hearts to wound?
By thy too much abusing of thy might,
This discord great in humane hearts is found.
When I would wade the shallow foord aright,
Thou drawst me to the deepe to have me dround,
From those love me, my love thou dost recall,
And place it where I find no love at all.
2
Thou makst most faire unto Renaldo seeme
Angelica, that takes him for a foe,
And when that she of him did well esteeme,
Then he dislikt, and did refuse her thoe.
Which makes her now of him the lesse to deeme.
Thus (as they say) she renders quit pro quo.
She hateth him, and doth detest him so,
She first will die, ere she will with him go.
3
Renaldo (full of stately courage) cride,
Downe theefe from of my horse, downe by and by,
So robd to be I never can abide,
But they that do it dearely shall abye,
Also this Ladie you must leave beside,
Else one of us in her defence will dye
A horse so good, and such a goodly dame,
To leave unto a theefe it were a shame.
4
What? me a theefe? thou in thy throat dost lye,
(Quoth Sacrapant, that was as hot as he)
Theefe to thy selfe, thy malice I defie,
For as I heare, the name is due to thee:
But if thou dare thy might and manhood trie,
Come take this Ladie, or this horse from me.
Though I allow in this of thine opinion,
That of the world she is the matchlesse minion.
5
Like as two mastive dogges with hungrie mawes,
Movd first to hate, from hate to raging ire,
Approch with grinning teeth, and griesly jaws,
With staring eyes, as red as flaming fire,
At last they bite, and scratch with teeth and claws,
And teare themselves, and tumble in the mire.
So after byting and reprochfull words,
Did these two worthy warriers draw their swords.
6
One was on foote, the tother on a horse,
You thinke perhaps, the horseman vantage had,
No sure, no whit; he would have wisht to skorce,
For why at last to light he must be glad,
The beast did know thus much by natures force,
To hurt his master were a service bad.
The pagan could not nor with spur nor hand,
Make him unto his mind to go or stand.
7
He stops, when he should make a full careire,
He runnes or trots, when he would have him rest,
At last to throw his rider in the mire,
He plungeth with his head beneath his breast.
But Sacrapant that now had small desire,
At such a time, to tame so proud a beast,
Did worke so well at last by sleight and force,
On his left side, he lighted from his horse.
8
When from Bayardos over furious might,
The Pagan had himselfe discharged so,
With naked swords there was a noble fight,
Sometimes they lye aloft, sometimes aloe,
And from their blowes the fire flies out in fight:
I thinke that Vulcans hammers beat more slow,
Where he within the mountaine AEtnas chaps,
Doth forge for love, the fearfull thunderclaps.
9
Sometimes they profer, then they pause a while,
Sometime strike out, like masters of the play,
Now stand upright, now stoup another while,
Now open lye, then cover all they may.
Now ward, then with a slip the blow beguile:
Now forward step, now backe a little way:
Now round about, and where the tone gives place,
There still the other presseth in his place.
10
Renaldo did the Pagan Prince invade,
And strike at once with all the might he cowd,
The other doth oppose against the blade,
A shield of bone and steele of temper good.
But through the same a way Fusberta made,
And of the blow resounded all the wood:
The steele, the bone like yse in peeces broke,
And left his arme benummed with the stroke.
11
Which when the faire and fearfull damsell saw,
And how great damage did ensue thereby,
She looked pale, for anguish and for aw,
Like those by doome that are condemnd to dye:
She thinks it best her selfe from hence withdraw,
Else will Renaldo take her by and by,
The same Renaldo whom she hateth so,
Though love of her procured all his wo.
12
Unto the wood she turnes her horse in hast,
And takes a little narrow path and blind;
Her fearfull looks ofttimes she backe doth cast,
Still doubting lest Renaldo came behind:
And when that she a little way had past,
Alow the vale a Hermit she did find:
A weake old man, with beard along his brest,
In shew devout, and holier then the rest.
13
He seemd like one with fasts and age consumed,
He rode upon a slouthfull going asse,
And by his looke, a man would have presumed,
That of his conscience scrupulous he was.
Yet her young face, his old sight so illumed,
When as he saw the damsell by to pass:
(Though weake and faint, as such an age behoved)
That charitie his courage somewhat moved.
14
The damsell of the Hermit askt the way,
That might unto some havn town lead most neare,
That she might part from France without delay,
Where once Renaldos name she might not heare.
The frier that could enchaunt, doth all he may,
To comfort her, and make her of good cheare,
And to her safetie promising to looke,
Out of his bag forthwith he drew a booke.
15
A booke of skill and learning so profound,
That of a lease he had not made an end,
But that there rose a sprite from under ground,
Whom like a page he doth of arrants lead.
This sprite by words of secret vertue bound,
Goes where these Knights their combat did intend:
And while they two were fighting very hard,
He enters them betweene without regard.
16
Good sirs (quoth he) for courtsie sake me show,
When one of you the tother shall have slaine,
And after all the travell you bestow,
What guerdon you expect for all your paine,
Behold, Orlando striking nere a blow,
Nor breaking staffe, while you strive here in vaine,
To Paris ward the Ladie faire doth carie,
While you on fighting undiscreetly tarie.
17
I saw from hence a mile, or thereabout,
Orlando with Angelica alone,
And as for you, they jest and make a flout,
That fight where praise and profit can be none.
Twer best you quickly went to seeke them out,
Before that any farther they be gone,
Within the walls of Paris if they get,
Your eye on her againe you shall not set.
18
When as the Knights this message had received,
They both remaind amazed, dumbe and sad,
To heare Orlando had them so deceived,
Of whom before great jealousie they had;
But good Renaldo so great griefe conceived,
That for the time, like one all raging made,
He sware without regard of God or man,
That he will kill Orlando if he can.
19
And seeing where his horse stood still untide,
He thither goes: such hast he makes away,
He offers not the Pagan leave to ride,
Nor at the parting once adjeu doth say.
Now Bayard felt his masters spurres in side,
And gallops maine, ne maketh any stay.
No rivers, rocks, no hedge, nor ditches wide,
Could stay his course, or make him step aside.
20
Nor marvell if Renaldo made some hast,
To mount againe upon his horses backe,
You heard before how many dayes had past,
That by his absence he had felt great lacke,
The horse (that had of humane wit some tast,)
Ran not away for any jadish knacke,
His going only was to this intent,
To guide his master where the Ladie went.
21
The horse had spide her when she tooke her flight,
First from the tent, as he thereby did stand,
And followd her, and kept her long in sight,
As then by hap out of his masters hand.
(His master did not long before alight,
To combat with a Baron hand to hand)
The horse pursude the damsell all about,
And holpe his master still to find her out.
22
He followed her through valley, hill and plaine,
Through woods and thickets for his masters sake,
Whom he permitted not to touch the raine,
For feare lest he some other way should take,
By which Renaldo though with mickle paine
Twise found her out, twise she did him forsake:
For first Ferraw, then Sacrapant withstood,
That by twise finding her he did no good.
23
Bayardo trusting to the lying sprite,
Whose false (but likely) tale so late he hard,
And doubting not it was both true and right,
He doth his duty now with due regard.
Renaldo prickt with love and raging spite,
Doth pricke apace, and all to Paris ward,
To Paris ward he maketh so great shift,
The wind it selfe seemes not to go so swift.
24
Such hast he made Orlando out to find,
That scant he ceast to travell all the night,
So deeply stacke the storie in his mind,
That was of late devised by the sprite:
Betimes and late as first he had assignd,
He rode untill he saw the towne in sight:
Where Charles whose chance all christned hearts did rew,
With the small relikes of his powre withdrew.
25
And for he lookes to be assaulted then,
Or else besiegd, he useth all his care,
To store himselfe with victuall and with men.
The walls eke of the towne he doth repaire,
And take advice, both how, and where, and when,
For his defence each thing he may prepare.
An armie new to make he doth intend,
And for new souldiers into England send.
26
He minds to take the field againe ere long,
And trie the hap of warre another day,
And all in hast to make himselfe more strong,
He sends Renaldo Englands ayd to pray.
Renaldo thought the Emperour did him wrong,
To send him in such hast, and grant no stay.
Not that ill will to thIland he did carie,
But for another cause he faine would tarie.
27
Yet now although full sore against his mind,
As loth to leave the Ladie he so loved,
Whom he in Paris hoped had to find,
Because tobey his Prince it him behoved,
He taketh this embassage thus assignd,
And having straight all other lets removed,
He posted first to Callis with great hast,
And there embarkt ere halfe next day was past.
28
Against the mariners and masters minds,
(Such hast he made to have returned backe)
He takes the sea though swelling with great winds,
And threatning ruine manifest and wracke.
Fierce Boreas that himselfe despised finds,
Doth beate on seas with tempest foule and blacke,
By force whereof the waves were raisd so hie,
The very tops were sprinkled all thereby.
29
The mariners take in their greater saile,
And by the wind they lie, but all in vaine,
Then backe againe they bend without availe,
Now they are out, they cannot in againe.
No (said the wind) my force shall so prevaile,
Your bold attempts shall put you to some paine.
It was a folly any more to strive,
Needs must they follow as the wind did drive.
30
In the foreship sometimes the blast doth blow,
Straight in the poope, the seas breake to the skies.
Needs must they beare a saile, though very low,
To void the waves that higher still did rise:
But sith my web so diverse now doth grow,
To weave with many threds I must devise,
I leave Renaldo in this dangerous place,
And of his sister speake a little space.
31
I meane the noble damsell Bradamant,
Of Ammon daughter, and dame Beatrice,
In whose rare mind no noble part did want,
So full of value, and so void of vice,
King Charles and France of her might rightly vaunt,
So chast, so faire, so faithfull and so wise,
And in the feates of armes of so great fame,
A man might guesse by that of whence she came.
32
There was a Knight enamourd on this dame,
That out of Affricke came with Agramant,
Rogero hight, so was his fathers name,
(His mother was the child of Agolant)
The damsell that of worthy linage came,
And had a heart not made of adamant,
Disdained not the love of such a Knight,
Although he had but seeld bene in her sight.
33
Long travell and great paine she had endured,
And rid alone her lover to have found,
Ne would she thinke her saftie more assured,
If with an armie she were garded round.
You heard before how she by force procured
King Sacrapant to fall and kisse the ground,
The wood she past, and after that the mountaine,
Untill at last she saw a goodly fountaine.
34
A goodly fountaine running in a field,
All full of trees, whose leaves do never fade,
Which did to passengers great pleasure yeeld,
The running streame so sweete a murmur made,
Upon the South, a hill the Sunne did shield,
The ground gave floures, the grove a gratefull shade.
Now here the dame casting her eye aside,
A man at armes fast by the brooke descride.
35
A man at armes she spyed by the brooke,
Whose banks with flowers of divers hew were clad,
Of which sweet place he so small pleasure tooke,
His face did shew his heart was nothing glad,
His targe and helmet were not farre to looke,
Upon a tree where tide his horse he had:
His eyes were swolne with tears, his mind oppressed
With bitter thoughts that had his heart distressed.
36
The damsell faire enticd by deepe desire,
That all (but chiefly women) have to know,
All strangers states, doth earnestly require
The dolefull Knight his inward griefe to show.
Who marking well her manner and attire,
Her courteous speech with him prevailed so,
He tels his state, esteeming by the sight,
That needs she must have bene some noble Knight.
37
Good sir (said he) you first must understand,
I served Charles against the King of Spaine,
I horsemen had and footmen in my band,
In ambush placd the Spanish King thave slaine:
I brought the fairest Ladie in this land,
And my best loved with me in my traine,
When sodainly ere I thereof was ware,
There came a horseman that procurd my care.
38
Perhap a man, or some infernall sprite,
In humane shape, I cannot certaine say,
But this I say, he tooke the damsell bright,
Even as a faulcon seaseth on his pray,
So he my loving Ladie did affright,
And so affrighted bare her quite away.
And when I thought to rescue her by force,
Aloft in aire he mounted with his horse.
39
Even as a ravnous kite that doth espie
A little chicken wandring from the other,
Doth catch him straight, and carries him on hie,
That now repents he was not with his mother.
What could I do? my horse wants wings to flie,
Scant could he set one leg before the tother,
He traveld had before so many dayes,
Among the painfull hils and stonie wayes.
40
But like to one that were his wit beside,
I leave my men to do my first intent,
Not caring of my selfe what should betide,
(So strongly to my fancie was I bent)
And tooke the blind god Cupid for my guide,
By wayes as blind to seeke my love I went.
And though my sense, my guide, my way were blind,
Yet on I go in hope my love to find.
41
A senight space abating but a day,
About the woods and mountaines I did range,
In savage deserts wilde and void of way,
Where humane steps were rare and very strange.
Fast by the desert place a plaine there lay,
That shewed from the rest but little change,
Save onely that a castle full of wonder
Did stand in rockes that had bene clovn asunder.
42
This castle shines like flaming fire a farre,
Not made of lime and stone as ours are here:
And still as I approcht a little narre,
More wonderfull the building doth appeare.
It is a fort impregnable by warre,
Compacted all of mettall shining cleare.
The fiends of hell this fort of steele did make,
Of metall tempred in the Stigian lake.
43
The towres are all of steele, and polisht bright,
There is on them no spot or any rust,
It shines by day, by darke it giveth light,
Here dwels this robber wicked and unjust,
And what he gets against all lawes and right,
The lawlesse wretch abuseth here by lust,
And here he keepes my faire and faithfull lover,
Without all hope that I may her recover.
44
Ah wo was me, in vaine I sought to helpe,
I see the place that keepes that I love best,
Even as a foxe that crying heares her whelpe,
Now borne aloft into the Eagles nest,
About the tree she goes, and faine would helpe,
But is constraind for want of wings to rest.
The rocke so steepe, the castle is so hie,
None can get in except they learne to flie.
45
And as I tarrid in the plaine, behold
I saw two Knights come riding downe the plaine,
Led by desire and hope to win this hold,
But their desire and hope was all in vaine.
Gradasso was the first of courage bold,
A King of Serican that held the raine,
Rogero next, a man of noble nation,
Of yeares but yong, but of great estimation.
46
A little dwarfe they had to be their guide,
Who told me that they came to trie their force
Against the champion that doth use to ride
Out of this castle on the winged horse.
Which when I heard, to them for helpe I cride,
And prayd them of my case to take remorse,
And that they would, if twere their chance to win,
Set free my love that there was locked in.
47
And all my griefe to them I did unfold,
Affirming with my teares my tale too true:
No sooner I my heavy hap had told,
But they were come within the castles vew,
I stood aloofe the battell to behold,
And praid to God good fortune might ensue.
Beneath the castle lies a little plaine,
Exceeding not an arrow shoore or twaine.
48
And as they talkt who first should fight or last,
They were arrived to the castle hill,
At length Gradasso (whether lots were cast,
Or that Rogero yeelded to his will)
Doth take his horne, and blew therewith a blast,
The noise whereof the castle wals did fill.
And straight with greater speed then can be guest,
Came out the rider of the flying beast.
49
And as we see strange cranes are wont to do,
First stalke a while, ere they their wings can find,
Then soare from ground not past a yard or two,
Till in their wings they gatherd have the wind,
At last they mount the very clouds unto,
Triangle wise, according to their kind:
So by degrees this Mage begins to flie,
The bird of Jove can hardly mount so hie.
50
And when he sees his time, and thinkes it best,
He falleth downe like lead in fearfull guise,
Even as the faulcon doth the fowle arrest,
The ducke and mallard from the brooke that rise,
So he descending with his speare in rest,
Doth pierce the aire in strange and monstrous wise,
And ere Gradasso were thereof admonishd,
He felt a stripe that made him halfe astonishd.
51
The Mage upon Gradasso brake his speare,
Who strikes in vaine upon the aire and wind,
Away he flue without or hurt or feare,
And leaves Gradasso many a pace behind.
This fierce encounter was so hard to beare,
That good Alfana to the ground inclind,
This same Alfana was Gradassos mare,
The fairst and best that ever saddle bare.
52
Aloft the starres the sorcrer doth ascend,
And wheeles about, and downe he comes againe,
And on Rogero hee his force doth bend,
That had compassion on Gradassos paine:
So sore thassault Rogero did offend,
His horse the force thereof could not sustaine,
And when to strike againe he made account,
He saw his foe up to the clouds to mount.
53
Sometimes the Mage Rogero doth assaile,
Straight way Gradasso he doth set upon,
And oft they strike againe without availe,
So quickly he at whom they strike is gone,
He winds about as ships do under saile,
His sailes are wings, and rest he gives them none,
But sets upon them in so sudden wise,
That he amazd and dazeld both their eyes.
54
Betweene this one aloft, and two alow,
This conflict did no little space endure,
Untill at last the night began to grow,
With mistie clouds making the world obscure:
I saw this fight, the truth thereof I know
I present was thereat, yet am I sure,
That very few (except the wiser sort)
Will credence give to such a strange report.
55
This heavenly hellish warriour bare a shield
On his left arme that had a silken case,
I cannot any cause or reason yeeld,
Why he would keepe it coverd so long space:
It had such force, that who so it beheld,
Such shining light it striketh in their face,
That downe they fall with eyes and senses closed,
And leave their corps of him to be disposed.
56
The target like the carbuncle doth shine,
Such light was never seene with mortall eye,
It makes to ground the lookers on decline,
Be they farre off, or be they standing nie:
And as it closd their sight, it closed mine,
That in a trance no little space was I.
At last when I awakt and rose againe,
The aire was darke, and voided was the plaine.
57
The sorcerer hath tane them (I surmise)
Into his castle, as is likely most,
And by this light that dazeld all our eies,
My hope is gone, their liberty is lost:
This is the truth, ne do I ought devise,
You heare the same, I felt it to my cost.
Now judge if I have reason to complaine,
That have and do endure such endlesse paine.
58
When as this Knight his dolefull tale had done,
He sate him downe all chearlesse in the place,
This was Earle Pinnabel Anselmus sonne,
Borne in Maganza of that wicked race,
Who like the rest so lewd a course did runne,
He holpe the more his linage to deface:
For onely vertue noblenesse doth dignifie,
And vicious life a linage base doth signifie.
59
The Ladie faire attentive all this while,
Doth hearken unto this Maganzese tale,
Rogeros name sometime doth make her smile,
Sometime againe for feare she looketh pale:
But hearing how a sorcerer base and vile,
Should in a castle so detaine him thrall,
She pitied him, and in her mind she fretted,
And oft desird to heare the tale repeated.
60
When at the last the whole she understood,
She said, sir Knight mourne not, but take some pleasure,
Perhaps our meeting may be to your good,
And turne your enemie unto displeasure:
Shew me this fort, for why it frets my blood,
So foule a prison holds so faire a treasure
And if good fortune favour mine intent,
You will right well suppose your travell spent.
61
Ah (said the Knight) should I returne againe,
To passe these mountaines hard and overtwhart?
Though for my selfe it is but little paine,
To toile my bodie having lost my hart:
For you to go where as you may be slaine,
Or taken prisner were a foolish part:
Which if it hap, yet me you cannot blame,
Because I give you warning of the same.
62
This said, he riseth up his horse to take,
The noble Ladie on the way to guide,
Who meanes to venter for Rogeros sake,
Or death or thraldome, or what ere betide,
But loe a messenger great hast doth make,
That comes behind, and (tarry ho) he cride,
This was the post that told to Sacrapant,
How she that foyld him was Dame Bradamant.
63
This messenger brought tidings in great post,
Both from Narbona and from Mompeleere,
How they were up in armes along the cost
Of Aquamort, and all that dwelled neere,
And how Marfilias men their hearts had lost,
Because of her no tidings they could heare:
And (for her absence made them ill apayd)
They sent to have her presence and her ayd.
64
These townes and others many to the same,
Betweene the streames of Rodon and of Vare,
The Empror had assignd this worthy dame,
Committing them unto her trust and care.
Her noble value gat her all this fame,
Because in armes herselfe she bravely bare,
And so the cities under her subjection,
This message sent, requiring her direction.
65
Which when she heard, it made her somewhat pause,
Twixt yea and no she stood a pretie space,
Of one side honor and her office drawes,
On thother side love helpes to pleade the case,
At last she meanes tensue the present cause,
And fetch Rogero from thinchanted place:
And if her force cannot to this attaine,
At least with him a prisner to remaine.
66
In curteous sort her answer she contrived,
With gracious words, and sent away the post,
She longs with her new guide to have arrived,
To that same place where both their loves were lost.
But he perceiving now she was derived,
From Clarimont that he detested most,
Doth hate her sore, and feareth to the same,
Lest she should know he of Maganza came.
67
There was betweene these houses auncient hate;
This of Maganza, that of Clarimount,
And each of them had weakned others state,
By killing men in both of great account.
This Pinnabel (a vile and wicked mate,
That all his kin in vices did surmount)
Meanes with himselfe this damsell to betray,
Or else to slip aside and go his way.
68
And this same fancie so his head did fill,
With hate, with feare, with anger and with doubt,
That he mistooke the way against his will,
And knew not how againe to find it out,
Till in the wood he saw a little hill,
Bare on the top, where men might looke about,
But Bradamant such amorous passions feeles,
She followeth like a spannell at his heeles.
69
The craftie guide thus wandring in the wood,
Intending now the Ladie to beguile,
Said unto her forsooth he thought it good,
Sith night grew on, themselves to rest a while:
Here is, quoth he (and shewd which way it stood)
A castle faire, and hence not many a mile:
But tarry you a little here untill
I may descrie the countrey from the hill.
70
This said, he mounted to the higher ground,
And standing now the highest part upon,
He cast about his eyes and looked round,
To find some path whereby he might be gone.
When unawares a monstrous cave he found,
And strange cut out and hollowd in the stone,
Deepe thirtie cubits downe it doth descend,
Having a faire large gate at lower end.
71
Such as great stately houses wont to have,
Out of which gate proceeds a shining light,
That all within most lightsome makes the cave,
And all this while on this felonious Knight
This noble Ladie due attendance gave,
And never suffred him go out of sight.
She followd Pinnabel hard at his backe,
Because she was afeard to leefe the tracke.
72
When as this villaine traitor did espie,
That his designements foolish were and vaine,
Either to leave her, or to make her die,
He thought it best to trie a further traine,
Perswading her for to descend and trie,
What Ladies faire within the cave remaine,
For why (said he) within this little space
I saw a goodly damsell in the place.
73
Both rich arayd and very faire of hew,
Like one of noble linage and degree,
And this her fortune made me more to rew,
That here against her will she seemd to be.
And when I thought for to descend and vew,
The cause of this her griefe to know and see,
I was no sooner from my horse alighted,
But with infernall hags I was afrighted.
74
The noble Bradamant that was more stout
Then warie, who it was did her perswade,
Hath such desire to helpe a damsell out,
That straight the cave she meaneth to invade,
She finds by hap a long bough thereabout,
Thereof a pole of mightie length she made,
First with her sword she hewes and pares it fit,
That done she lets it downe into the pit.
75
She giveth Pinnabel the bigger end,
And prayes him stand above and hold it fast,
And by the same intending to descend,
Upon her armes her whole waight she doth cast.
But he that to destroy her did intend,
Doth aske if she would learne to leape a cast,
And laughing, loosd his hands that were together,
And wisht that all the race of them were with her.
76
Yet great good hap the gentle damsell found,
As well deservd a mind so innocent:
For why the pole strake first upon the ground,
And though by force it shiverd all and rent,
Yet were her limbes and life kept safe and sound,
For all his vile and traiterous intent,
Sore was the damsell mazed with the fall,
As in another booke declare I shall
ARGUMENT
THE THIRD BOOK
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Faire Bradamant was falne in Merlins cave,
Melissa meetes her there her ancient friend,
And there to her she perfite notice gave,
Of such brave men as should from her descend.
She told her where she should Rogero have,
Whom old Atlanta had in prison pend,
And from Brunello how to take the ring,
That unto liberty her deere might bring.
THIRD BOOKE
1
Oh that my head were so well stord with skill,
Of such a noble subject fit to treat,
Oh that my wits were equall to my will,
To frame a phrase fit for so high conceat:
Ye Muses that do hold the sacred hill,
Inspire my heart with flame of learned heat,
While I presume in base and lowly verse,
The names of glorious Princes to reherse.
2
Such Princes as excell all Princes far,
In all the gifts of body and of mind,
Temprat in peace, victorious eke in war,
Themselves most noble, come of noble kind.
And such (except my guesse do greatly er)
As are by heavns eternall doome assignd,
In wealth, in fame, in rule and in prosperity,
To live themselves, their children and posterity.
3
Nor can I now their severall actes most rare,
Atcheevd by evry one of them recite,
No though my verse with Virgils might compare,
Or I as well as Homer could endite:
With their great praise, great vollumes filled are,
With large discourse, by them that stories write.
I onely meane to shew what was foreshowne,
Long ere their persons, or their deeds were knowne.
4
But first of Pinnabel a word to speake,
Who as you heard with traiterous intent,
The bonds of all humanity did break,
For which ere long himselfe was after shent.
Thus while base minds their wrongs do basly wreak,
They do that once that often they repent,
And curse that time, a thousand times, too late
When they pursude their unrevenged hate.
5
With fainting heart, (for sin is full of feare)
By stealing steps from hence he doth depart,
And as he goes he prieth here and there,
His fearefull looke bewraies his guilty hart,
Nor yet his dread doth move him to forbeare,
To heape more sin upon this ill desart.
Appald with feare, but toucht with no remorse,
Supposing she was slaine, he takes her horse.
6
But let him go untill another time,
For I do meane hereafter you shall heare,
How he was dealt with, when his double crime,
In secret wrought, most open did appeare.
Now unto Bradamant I bend my rime,
Who with her fall, was yet of heavy cheare:
And had beene taught a gamball for the nonce,
To give her death and buriall at once.
7
Now when she came unto her selfe againe,
And had recoverd memory and sence,
She gets her on her feet, although with paine,
In mind to seeke some way to get fro thence,
When loe, before her face she seeth plaine,
A stately portall built with great expence,
And next behind the same she might descrie,
A larger roome and fairer to the eie.
8
This was a Church most solemne and devout,
That stands on marble pillars small and round,
And raisd by art on arches all about,
That made each voyce to yeeld a double sound.
A lightsome lampe that never goeth out,
Did burne on altar standing in the ground:
That though the roomes were large and wide in space,
The lampe did serve to lighten all the place.
9
The noble damsell full of revrent feare,
When as her selfe in sacred place she sees,
(As one that still a godly minde did beare,)
Begins to pray to him upon her knees,
Whose holy side was perst with cruell speare,
And who to save our lives his owne did leese:
And while she stayes devoutly at her prayre,
The sage Melyssa doth to her repaire.
10
Her gowne ungyrt, her haire about her head,
Much like a priest or prophetesse arraid,
And in her booke a little while she red,
And after thus unto the damsell said:
O thou by Gods appointment hither led,
O Bradamant, most wise and worthy maid,
I long have looked here for this thy comming,
Foretold thereof by prophet Merlins cunning.
11
Here is the tombe that Merline erst did make,
By force of secret skill and hidden art,
In which sometimes the Ladie of the lake,
That with her beautie had bewitcht his hart,
Did make him enter fondly for her sake,
From whence he never after could depart,
And he was by a woman over reached,
That unto others prophesied and preached.
12
His carkas dead within this stone is bound,
But with dead corse the living soule doth dwell:
And shall untill it heare the trumpet sound,
That brings reward of doing ill or well.
His voice doth live and answer and expound,
And things both present past and future tell,
Resolving men of evrie doubtfull case,
That for his counsell come unto this place.
13
About a moneth or little more or lesse,
It is since I repaird to Merlins grave,
Of him about the studie I professe,
Some precepts and instructions to have.
And (for I willing was I must confesse)
To meete you at your comming to this cave:
For which he did prefixe this certaine day,
This moved me of purpose here to stay.
14
Duke Ammons daughter silent stands and still,
The while the wise Melyssa to her spake,
Astonished at this unusuall skill,
And doubting if she were asleepe or wake,
A modest shame with grace her eyes doth fill,
With which downe cast, this answer she doth make:
Alas what good or merite is in me
That prophets should my comming so foresee?
15
And glad of this adventure unexpected,
She followeth her guide with great delight,
And straight she saw the stately toombe erected,
Of marble pure that held his bones and sprite,
And (that which one would little have suspected)
The very marble was so cleare and bright,
That though the sunne no light unto it gave,
The tombe it selfe did lighten all the cave.
16
For whether be the nature of some stone,
A darkesome place with lightsomenes to fill,
Or were it done by magike art alone,
Or else by helpe of Mathematike skill,
To make transparencies to meete in one,
And so convey the sunnebeames where you will:
But sure it was most curious to behold,
Set forth with carved workes and guilt with gold.
17
Now when the damsell was approched nyre,
To this strange toombe where Merlins bones were plast,
Forth of the stones that shine like flaming fire,
His lively voyce such speeches out doth cast:
Let fortune ever favour thy desire,
O Bradamant thou noble maid and chast,
From out whose wombe an issue shall proceed,
That all the world in glorie shall exceed.
18
The noble blood that came of ancient Troy,
By two cleare springs in thee together mixt,
Shall breed the flowre, the jewell and the joy,
Of all on whom the sunne his beames hath fixt,
Twixt those that heat, and those that cold annoy,
From Tage to Inde, Danub and Nile betwixt,
Emprors and Kings, and Dukes and Lords for ay,
Of this thy linage carrie shall the sway.
19
And many a Captaine brave and worthy Knight,
Shall issue from this stocke, that shall restore
By warlike feates the glorie shining bright,
That Italy possessed heretofore.
And magistrates to maintaine peace and right,
As Numa and Augustus did before,
To cherish vertue, vice so to asswage,
As shall to us bring backe the golden age.
20
Wherefore sith God hath by predestination,
Appointed thee to be Rogeros wife,
And means to blesse thine heirs and generation,
With all the graces granted in this life,
Persist thou firme in thy determination,
And stoutly overcome each storme of strife,
And worke his worthy punishment and paine,
That doth thy lives delight from thee detaine.
21
This said: the prophet Merline holds his peace,
And gives Melissa time to worke her will,
Who when she did perceive the voice to cease,
She purposeth by practise of her skill,
To shew the damsell part of that increase,
That should with fame the world hereafter fill.
And for this purpose she did then assemble,
A troupe of sprights their persons to resemble.
22
Who straight by words of secret vertue bound,
In numbers great unto the cave repaire,
Of whence I know not, whether under ground,
Or else of those that wander in the aire:
Then thrise she drawes about a circle round,
And thrise she hallowes it with secret praire.
Then opens she a triple clasped booke,
And softly whispering in it she doth looke.
23
This done she takes the damsell by the hand
Exhorting her she should not be afraid,
And in a circle causeth her to stand,
And for her more securitie and aid,
And as it were for more assured band,
Upon her head some characters she laid.
Then having done her due and solemne rites,
She doth beginne to call upon the sprites.
24
Behold a crew of them come rushing in,
In sundrie shapes with persons great and tall,
And now they filled all the roome within,
So readily they came unto her call,
When Bradamant to feare did straight begin,
Her heart was cold, her colour waxed pall.
But yet the circle kept her like a wall,
So that she needed not to feare at all.
25
Howbeit Melyssa caused them be gone,
From thence unto the next adjoyning cave,
And thence to come before them one by one,
The better notice of their names to have,
That at more leysure they may talke thereon,
When as occasion so may seeme to crave
Although (quoth she) this short time cannot serve
To speake of evrie one as they deserve.
26
Lo here the first thy first begotten sonne,
That beares thy favour and his fathers name,
By whom the Lombards shall in fight be wonne,
To Defiderius their Kings great shame,
Who shall at Pontyr make the streames to runne,
With blood in fields adjoyning to the same,
And shall revenge the deeds and minds unpure,
Of such as did his fathers fall procure.
27
And for this noble act among the rest,
The Emperour shall give him in reward,
The honours great of Calaon and Est,
By which his family shall be prefard,
The next Uberto is whose valiant brest,
Shall be unto the church a gard,
Defending it with valiant heart and hand,
To thhonor of Hesperyan armes and land.
28
Alberto he is namd that third comes in,
Whose triumphs are most famous evrie where,
Then his sonne Hugo that did Millain winne,
And for his crest two vipers usd to beare,
Next Atso is and next to him of kinne,
That erst of Lombardie the crowne shall weare.
Then Albertasso by whose meanes are wonne,
The Beringers both father and the sonne.
29
To him shall Othons favour so encline,
He shall in marriage give to him his daughter.
Now Hugo comes againe, o happie line,
And happie man that savd so great a slaughter,
When at Christs vicars rule Rome did repine,
He daunteth them and so restord them after:
The which by wit without the dint of sword,
He shall effect in Othons time the third.
30
Now Fulko comes that to his brothers gave,
His land in Italy which was not small,
And dwelt in Almany his land to save
Of Samsony, that unto him did fall.
A Dukedome great that did with Castles brave,
Accrew to him for want of issue male.
By him that noble house is held and cherished,
That but for him would be extinct and perished.
31
Then commeth Atso that misliketh warre,
But yet his sonnes Bertold and Albertasse,
With second Henrie shall be still at jarre,
And bring the Dutchmen to a wofull passe.
Next young Renaldo shining like a starre,
Shall be unto the Church a wall of brasse,
And worke the utter overthrow and losse,
Of wicked Fredrike named Barbarosse.
32
Behold another Atso shall possesse,
Verona with a stately territorie,
Of Oton and Honorius no lesse,
Shall be a marquesse made to his great glory,
It would be long their names all to expresse,
That shall protect the sacred consistorie,
And in most valerous and marshall manner,
Display and eke defend the Churches banner.
33
Obyso next and Folko you may view,
With Henries two, the father and the sonne,
Both Guelfes that fruitfull Humbrya shall subdew,
And keepe the Dukedome there by conquest won.
Behold him that the good state doth renew,
Of Italy that late was quite undone.
Cald Atso fift that bravely overthrew,
The cruell Esselino and him slew.
34
That cruell Esselyno that was thought,
To have beene gotten by some wicked divell,
That never any goodnesse had beene taught,
But sold his soule to sinne and doing evill,
Comparing with the cruell acts he wrought,
Fierce Nero were but myld and Sylla civill.
Beside this Atso shall in time to come
The powre of second Fredrike overcome.
35
And then he shall his brother Albandrine,
Unto the Florentines for monie gage,
And Othon with the faction Gebellyne,
He shall suppresse amid the furious rage,
And raise the Church, nor letting it decline,
But spending to defend it all his age.
For which good service he shall justly merite,
The Dukedome of Ferrara to inherite.
36
Next him Renaldo now ensuth, whose lot,
Shall be at Naples to be made away,
A death his vertuous deeds deserved not,
But wo to them that guiltlesse blood betray.
Now followeth a worthy crue and knot,
Whose acts alone to tell would spend a day:
Obyso, Nicolas and Aldbrandine,
Whose noble deeds shall honour much their line.
37
Then Nicolas is he that next ensuth,
That ruld in tender yeares both neere and farre,
That findes and eke revengeth their untruth,
That sought his state by civill strife to marre.
The sports and exercises of his youth,
Are blowes and fights, and dangers great and warre.
Which makes that ere to manly state he came,
For martiall deeds he gets the onely name.
38
Lo Lyonell the glory of his age,
Maintaining peace and quiet all his time,
And keeping that with ease by wisedome sage,
To which some others by much paine do clime,
That fettred furie and rebuked rage,
That locks up Mars in wals of stone and lime:
That all his wit, his care and travell bent,
To make his subjects live in state content.
39
Now Hercles comes, an Hercules indeed,
Whose deeds shall merite ever during fame:
That by his paines his countries ease shall breed,
And put his enemies to flight and shame.
Sharpe to devise, to execute with speed,
Both stout tattempt, and patient to the same,
No Prince shall ever rule his countrie better,
No Prince had ever countrie more his detter.
40
Not onely that he shall their moorish grounds,
By great expence to pasture firme reduce,
Not that the towne with wall environ round,
And store with things behooffull to their use.
Not that when warre in ech place shall abound,
He shall mantaine them peaceable in truce,
Not that he shall according to their asking
Disburden them of payments and of tasking.
41
But that he shall more and above all these,
Leave them behind him such a worthy race,
As search within the circuit of the seas,
You shall not find two to supplie their place.
So shall the one the other strive to please,
So shall the one the others love imbrace,
As may for loving brotherly regard,
With Castor and with Pollux be compard.
42
The elder of these two Alfonso hight,
The next of them Hyppolito we call.
Both passing stout and valiant in fight,
Both passing wise and provident withall:
And both in due defence of countries right,
Shall seeme a bulwarke and a brazen wall:
They both shall have of enemies good store,
They both shall still subdue them evermore,
43
Their mother (if I may a mother name,)
One more like Progne and Medea fell,
Unto her endlesse infamie and shame,
Against her sonne Alfonso shall rebell,
And joyne with Venice force (for this to blame)
Though for the same ere long they paid full well,
For those they thought to hurt, they did this good,
To make the ground more fruitfull with their blood.
44
Not far fro thence the Spanish souldier hired,
By pastors purse and in that pastors pay,
That with a forcible assault aspired,
To take a fort, and eke the captaine slay.
But loe he comes and they perforce retyred,
And have so short a pleasure of this pray,
Scarse one of them in life is left abiding,
To carrie notice of so heavie tiding.
45
His wit and valour shall him so advance,
To have the honour of Romania field,
Where by his meanes unto the force of France,
The Pope and Spaniards, forced are to yeeld:
And there in Christian blood, o fatall chance,
Shall horses swimme, such number shall be keeld,
Nor shall not men enough alive remaine,
To burie those that are in battell slaine.
46
The while his brother under Cardnals cap,
Shall cover, nay shall shew a prudent head,
Hyppolito (I meane) who shall have hap,
With band of men but small (yet wisely led)
To give to the Venetians such a clap,
As few the like in stories have bene read.
To take three times five Gallies at one tide,
And barkes and boates a thousand more beside.
47
Behold two Sygismonds both wise and grave,
Alfonso next, whose fame is talkt of rife,
With his five sonnes, then Hercles that shall have
The King of France his daughter to his wife,
That towards him, her selfe shall so behave,
Shall make him live most happie all his life.
Hyppolito it is that now comes in,
Not least for praise and glorie of his kin.
48
Next Francis named third, Alfonsos two,
With many others worthy of renowne,
The which to name might finde one worke to do,
From Phoebus rising to his going downe.
Now therefore if you will consent thereto,
I here will end and send the spirits downe:
To this the worthy damsell said not nay,
And straight the spirits vanisht all away.
49
Then Bradamant, that all well marked had,
Of whom her selfe should be the ancient mother,
Did say, to learne she would be very glad,
What two those were that differed from the other,
That came with backward steps and lookt so sad,
Upon the good Alfonso and his brother.
Melyssa sighs, misliking that suggestion,
Which put it in her heart to ask this question.
50
And then as in a trance these words she spake,
O thou more worthy sonne of worthy sire,
They are thy bloud, on them compassion take,
Let grace asswage, though justice kindle ire:
Then unto Bradamant as new awake,
I must (said she) denie you this desire,
I say no more, content you with the sweet,
For you, this sower morsell is not meet.
51
To morrow when the Sunne at breake of day,
With light shall dim the light of evry starre:
I meane my selfe to guide you on your way,
So as I will be sure you shall not arre.
The place whereas your love is forcd to stay,
Is from the salt sea shore not very farre:
That were you past a mile beyond this wood,
The other way would easie be and good.
52
Of this nights stay the damsell was content,
And in the cave with her she doth remaine,
And most thereof in Merlins tombe she spent;
Whose voice with talke did her still entertaine:
Emboldning her to give her free consent,
To love where she should sure be lovd againe.
Now gan the messenger of day to cro,
When as her guide and she away did go.
53
The way they went was darke and unaccessible,
By secret vaults and hollowes of the hill,
To find it out had bene a thing impossible,
But with a guide of knowledge great and skill:
At last they came unto a path more passible,
By which they cease not to ascend, until
They quite had left the darke and lothsome place,
And saw the beames of Phoebus chearefull face.
54
And while that up this hill they slowly stalke,
With pausing panting oft, and taking wind,
To make lesse wearie seeme their wearie walke,
Melyssa still doth store of matter find,
And now of this, and then of that doth talke,
But chiefly she the damsell puts in mind,
Of her Rogero, how he had bene trained
Into the prison where he now remained.
55
Atlanta that Magician strange is he
That holdeth him (I trust) unto his cost,
But had you Pallas strength or Mars (quoth she)
And eke of armed men a mightie host,
Yet to attempt by force to set him free,
Your travell and your labour all were lost.
Art must be wonne by art, and not by might,
Force cannot free your welbeloved Knight.
56
For first the castle mounted is on hie,
Impregnable with wals all over steeld,
And next, the horse he rides hath wings to flie,
And gallops in the aire as in the field:
And last he dazleth evry mortall eie,
By hidden force of his enchanted shield,
With light whereof mens senses are so dazed,
With sight thereof they fall downe all amazed.
57
In all the world one onely meane hath beene,
And is yet still to worke so rare a feat,
A ring there is which from an Indian Queene,
Was stole sometime, of price and vertue great:
This ring can make a man to go unseene,
This ring can all inchantments quite defeat:
King Agramant hath sent his secretarie,
Unto Rogero this same ring to carie.
58
Brunello in his name that hath the ring,
Most leud and false, but politike and wise,
And put in trust especiall by his King,
With it Rogeros safetie to devise:
Which sith I wish not he, but you should bring,
To bind him to you by this enterprise,
And for I would not have the Turke protect him,
Because I know he greatly doth affect him.
59
Do therefore this, when you do meete this man,
Whose markes I wish in memory you beare,
His stature is two cubits and a span,
His head is long and gray, and thin of haire,
His nose is short and flat, his colour wan,
With beetle brow, eyes watrie not with teare,
His beard growes on his face without all stint,
And to conclude, his looke is all a squint.
60
Now when as you this comely man shall meet,
As sure you shall within a day or two,
You may with curteous words him seeme to greet,
And tell him partly what you meane to do,
But speake not of the ring although you seet,
For so you may the matter all undo,
Then he great courtesie to you will offer,
And straight his companie to you will proffer.
61
But when unto the castle you come nie,
Then see you set upon him on the way,
And take away the ring and make him die,
Nor give him any time, lest he convay
The ring into his mouth, and so thereby
Out of your sight he vanish quite away.
The worthy damsell markes her speeches well,
And so the one the other bids farewell.
62
Next day she hapt Brunello to espie,
She knew him straight, she found him at her Inne,
She growes to question with him by and by,
And he to lie doth by and by beginne,
And she dissembles too, and doth denie
Her countrey, stocke and name, and sex and kinne.
Brunello pleasantly doth talke and tipple,
Not knowing he did halt before a cripple.
63
Now when they almost broken had their fast,
She marking more his fingers then his eyes,
When much good talke between them two had past,
The most whereof were false and forged lies,
Behold mine host came unto them in hast,
And told them newes that made them sooner rise:
But here I meane to make a little pause,
Before I tell what was thereof the cause.
ARGUMENT
THE FOURTH BOOKE
OF ORLANDO FURIOSO
Bradamant overcomes the false Magician,
And sets Rogero free, who by and by
Leapt on a horse not knowing his condition,
Who bare him quite from sight of any eye.
Renaldo sailed as he had commission,
To England ward, but borne by wind awrie,
At Callidon in Scotland he arrived,
When faire Geneuras foul death was contrived.
FOURTH BOOKE
1
Though he that useth craft and simulation,
Doth seldome bend his acts to honest ends,
But rather of an evill inclination,
His wit and skill to others mischiefe bends:
Yet sith in this our worldly habitation,
We do not ever dwell among our friends,
Dissembling doubtlesse oftentimes may save
Mens lives, their fame and goods, and all they have.
2
If man by long acquaintance and great proofe,
To trust some one man scant can be allured,
To whom he may in presence or aloofe,
Unfold the secrets of his mind assured:
Then doth this damsell merit no reproofe,
That with Brunello (to all fraud inured)
Doth frame her selfe to counterfeit a while,
For to deceive deceivers is no guile.
3
Now while these two did to conferre begin,
She to his fingers having still an eye,
The host and other servants of the Inne,
Came on the sodaine with a wofull crie,
And some did gaze without, and some within,
(As when men see a Comet in the skie)
The cause of this their wondring and their crying,
Was that they saw an armed horseman flying.
4
And straight by thhost and others they were told,
How one that had in Magicke art great skill,
Not far from thence had made a stately hold,
Of shining steele, and placd it on a hill,
To which he bringeth Ladies yong and old,
And men and maids according to his will,
And when within that castle they have beene,
They never after have bene heard or seene.
5
No sooner can he spie a pretie maide,
But straight he takes her up into the aire,
The which his custome makes them all afraid,
That either are or thinke that they be faire.
Those hardie knights that went to give them aide,
Of which sort many hither did repaire,
Went like the beasts to the sicke Lions den,
For all went in, but none returnd agen.
6
This tale in worthy Bradamant did breed
A kind of pleasure and confused joy,
In hope (which after she performd indeed)
The sight of her beloved to enjoy,
She praid the host procure a guide with speed,
As though each little stay did breed annoy:
She sweares that in her heart she longd to wrastle
With him that kept the captives in his castle.
7
Because that you sir knight should want no guide,
(Brunello said) I will my selfe be he,
I know the way, and somewhat have beside,
By which may fortune you may pleasurd be:
He meant the ring of force and vertue tride,
Although he meant not she the same should see.
Great thanks (quoth she) that you will take the pain,
In hope hereby the precious ring to gain.
8
Thus each from other hiding their intent,
They forward set like friends by breake of day,
Brunello sometime foremost of them went,
Sometime behind, as chanced on the way.
Now had they certaine houres in travell spent,
When they arrived where the castle lay,
Whereas mount Pyrene stands above the plaine,
So high as may discover France and Spaine.
9
When as the castle did in sight appeare,
So strange, so faire, so stately, and so hie,
In which that Knight whom she esteemd so deare,
With many others, prisoner did lie.
She thought her fittest time drew very neare,
To take the ring, and make Brunello die.
Wherefore with open force she doth assaile him,
Whose strength with age and feare soon gan to faile him.
10
Her meaning was the Caitife to have kild,
But unto that her noble heart said nay,
Small praise would come from bloud so basely spild,
She meanes to get the ring another way:
But first she bound him where he wild or nild,
And though with teares he did for pittie pray,
Yet left she him unto a tree fast tide,
And with the ring away she straight did ride.
11
And being in the greene fast by the towre,
Straight (as the fashion was) her horne she blew,
Out came that armed Knight that present houre,
And seeing there a challenger in vew,
He seemeth to assault her with great powre,
But by the ring she all his falshood knew:
She saw he carride neither sword nor speare,
Nor any weapon that one need to feare.
12
He only carride at his saddle bow,
A shield all wrapped in a crimson case,
And read a booke by which he made to show
Some strange and strong illusions in the place:
And many that these cunnings did not know,
He had deceivd and tane in little space.
And causd both swords and lances to appeare,
When neither sword nor lances them were neare.
13
But yet the beast he rode was not of art,
But gotten of a Griffeth and a Mare,
And like a Griffeth had the former part,
As wings and head, and clawes that hideous are,
And passing strength and force and ventrous hart,
But all the rest may with a horse compare.
Such beasts as these the hils of Ryfee yeeld,
Though in these parts they have bin seene but seeld.
14
This monster rare from farthest regions brought
This rare Magician ordred with such skill,
That in one month or little more he tought
The savage monster to obey his will:
And though by conjurations strange he wrought,
In other things his fancie to fulfill,
(As cunning men still trie each strange conclusion)
Yet in this Griffeth horse was one collusion.
15
The Ladie faire protected by the ring,
Found all his sleights (although she seemd not so)
Her purpose to the better passe to bring,
And first she seemes to ward a comming blow,
And then to strike, and oft to curse the wing,
That carride still away her flying fo,
And sith to fight on horsebacke did not boote,
She seemes as in a rage to light on foote.
16
The Necromancer, as his manner is,
Disclosed at the last his shining shield,
Supposing that the vertue would not misse,
To make her (as it had done others) yeeld:
So have I seene a craftie cat ere this,
Play with a silly mouse of house or field,
And let it go a while for sport and play,
But kill at last and beare it quite away.
17
I say that he the cat, the other mise,
Resembled had in every former fight,
But now this ring had made this one so wise,
That when she saw the strange enchanted light,
She falleth not of force, but of devise,
As though she were astonied at the sight,
And lay like one of life and sense bereaved,
By which the poore Magician was deceaved.
18
For straight he lighted from the flying horse,
To take her as he had done many mo,
The shield and booke in which was all his force,
He left behind him at his saddle bow,
But thinking to have found a senslesse corse,
Amazd and dead, he finds it nothing so,
For up she starts, so quite the case was altred,
That with the cord he brought, himselfe was haltred.
19
And when with those selfe bonds she had him tide,
By which he thought before her to have snared,
She strong and yong, he witherd, old and dride,
Alas an unmeet match to be compared,
Forthwith determining he should have dide,
To strike his head from shoulders she prepared,
Till she was movd to mercy with his teares,
And with the sight of white and hoary haires.
20
For when he saw his force was overlaid,
And that her strength was not to be withstood,
O pardon life thou heavenly wight (he said)
No honour comes by spilling aged blood.
Which words to mercie movd the noble maid,
Whose mind was alwayes mercifull and good.
Then why he built the castle she demanded,
And what he was to tell her him commanded.
21
With wofull words the old man thus replide,
I made this castle for no ill intention,
For covetice or any fault beside,
Or that I loved rapine or contention,
But to prevent a danger shall betide
A gentle Knight, I framed this invention:
Who as the heavens hath shewd me in short season,
Shall die in Christian state by filthy treason.
22
Rogero named is this worthy youth,
Whose good and safetie faine I would advance,
My name Atlante is to tell you truth,
I bred him of a child, till his hard chance,
And valiant mind (that breeds alas my ruth)
With Agramant entist him into France.
And I that (like mine owne child) alway lovd him,
From France and danger faine would have removd him.
23
By art and helpe of many a hellish elfe,
This castle for Rogero I did build,
And took him as I meant to take thy selfe,
But that with greater art I was beguild,
From dainty fare, and other worldly pelfe,
Because he should not thinke himselfe exild,
For company I brought him worthy wights,
Both men and women, Ladies faire and Knights.
24
They have all plentie of desired pleasure,
I bend to their contentment all my care,
For them I spend my travell and my treasure,
For musicke, clothes and games, and daintie fare,
As hart can think, and mouth require with measure,
Great store for them within this castle are.
Well had I traveld, well my time bestowed,
But you have mard the fruits that I had sowed.
25
But if your mind be gracious as your looke,
If stonie heart bide not in tender brest,
Behold I offer thee my shield and booke,
And flying horse, and grant my just request,
Some two or three, or all the Knights I tooke,
I give thee free, let but Rogero rest:
Whose health, whose wealth, whose safty and welfare
Have ever bene (and ever shall) my care.
26
Your care (quoth she) is very ill bestowne,
In thraldome vile to keepe a worthy wight:
As for your gifts you offer but mine owne,
Sith by my conquest you are mine in right.
Those dangers great you say to be foreshowne,
And upon him in time to come must light,
With figures cast and heavenly planets vewed,
Cannot be knowne or cannot be eschewed.
27
How can you others harmes foresee so farre,
And not prevent your owne that were so nie?
I certaine shall suppose your art doth erre,
And for the rest the end the truth shall trie:
I now intend your matter all to marre,
And that before these bonds I will untie,
You shall set free and loose your prisners all,
Whom in this castle you detained thrall.
28
When as the poore old man was so distrest,
That needs he must for feare and dread obay,
And that this same imperious dames behest,
Could neither beare deniall nor delay,
To do as she commands he deemes it best,
And therefore takes thinchanted place away.
He breakes some hollow fuming pots of stone,
And straight the wals and buildings all were gone.
29
This done, himselfe eke vanisht out of sight,
As did the castle at that present hower,
Then Ladies, Lords, and many a worthy Knight,
Were straight releast from his enchanted power:
And some there were had taken such delight
In those so stately lodgings of that tower,
That they esteemd that liberty a paine,
And wisht that pleasant slavery againe.
30
Here were at freedome set among the rest,
Gradasso, Sacrapant, two Kings of name,
Prasyldo and Iroldo that from thEst
Into this country with Renaldo came.
Here Bradamant found him she loved best,
Her deare Rogero of renowned fame,
Who after certaine notice of her had,
Did shew to see her he was very glad.
31
As one of whom he great account did make,
And thought himselfe to her most highly bound,
Since she put off her helmet for his sake,
And in her head receivd a grievous wound,
Twere long to tell what toile they both did take,
Both night and day each other to have found,
But till this present time they had no meeting,
Nor givn by word nor writing any greeting.
32
Now when before him present he beheld
Her that from danger had him sole redeemed,
His heart with so great joy and mirth was fild,
The happiest wight on earth himselfe he deemed:
And christall teares from her faire eyes distild,
Embracing him whom she most deare esteemed.
As oft we see a strong and sodaine passion,
Bring forth effects quite of another fashion.
33
The Griffeth horse the while upon the plaine,
Stood with the target at his saddle bow,
The damsell thought to take him by the raine,
But he then mounteth up, and like a crow
Chast by a dog forthwith descends againe,
And standeth still, or soareth very low,
And when that some come nie in hope to take him,
He flies away that none can overtake him.
34
But neare unto Rogero soone he staid,
Which by Atlantas care was sole procured,
Who for Rogeros danger was afraid,
And thinkes his safetie never well assured.
Wherefore he sent this monster for his aid,
And by this meanes from Europe him allured,
To his welfare his cares and thoughts he bendeth,
To succor and preserve him he intendeth.
35
Rogero from his horse forthwith alighted,
(The horse he rode on was Frontyno named)
And with this flying horse was so delighted,
That though he saw him wanton and untamed,
Yet up he leapt, and soone was sore afrighted,
He finds he would not to his mind be framed,
For in the aire the Griffeth sord so hie,
As doth the Faulcon that at fowle doth flie
36
The damsell faire that now beheld her deare,
Borne farre away by force of monsters wing,
Was sorrowfull and of so heavie cheare,
That to their course her wits she scant could bring,
The tale of Ganymed she once did heare,
Whom Poets faine to tend the heavenly King,
She doubts may true of her Rogero be,
That was as comely and as faire as he.
37
As long as eysight could at all prevaile,
So long she viewd him still in all and part:
But when his distance made the sight to faile,
At least she followed him in mind and hart,
To sob, to sigh, to weepe, lament and waile,
She never leaves these chances overthwart.
And seeing plaine her love and she were parted,
She tooke Frontyno and away departed.
38
Now was Rogero mounted up so hie,
He seemd to be a mote or little pricke,
For no man could distinguish him by eie,
Except his sight were passing fine and quicke:
All southerly this Griffeth horse doth flie,
(Was never jade that servd man such a tricke)
But let him on his way, God speed him well,
For of Renaldo somewhat I must tell.
39
Who all the while with raging tempest strived,
Borne where himselfe nor no man else did know,
By cruell stormie winds and weather drived,
That dayes and nights surceased not to blow:
At last in Scotland weary he arrived,
Where woods of Callidony first do show,
A famous wood wherein in times of old,
Brave deeds were done by ventrous Knights & bold.
40
Here have those famous Knights great honour won,
At whose rare worth the world it selfe did wonder,
Here were most valiant acts atchievd and done,
By Knights that dwelt there neare or far asunder,
And many a man hath here bene quite undone,
Whose feeble force his enemie was under,
Here were, as proved is by ancient charter,
The famous Tristram, Lancellot and sir Arther.
41
At this same wood Renaldo from his fleet,
Well mounted on his Bayards backe did part,
He points his men at Barwicke him to meet,
The while himselfe alone with valiant heart,
Sometime on horsebacke, sometime on his feete,
Doth march in mind to do some worthy part.
But seeing now the night came on so fast,
Unto an Abbey he repaires at last.
42
The Abbot and his Monks with comely grace,
As holy men of humane manners skilled,
Did welcome him, and in a little space,
With costly fare his emptie stomacke filled.
Renaldo straight enquired of the place,
What feates of armes had there bene late fulfilled,
And where a man by valiant acts may show,
If his exploits deserve dispraise or no.
43
They said that in that wood and forrest, find
Adventures strange and feates of armes he might,
But as the place, so are the actions blind,
That oft their doings never come to light.
But if (say they) we may perswade your mind,
Attempt an action worthy of a Knight,
Where if you passe the perill and the paine,
Eternall fame shall unto you remaine.
44
For if you would performe an act indeed,
Whereby great name and honour may be wonne,
Then this would be the best and noblest deed,
That late or long time past was ever done:
Our Princes daughter standeth now in need,
Of great defence, a danger great to shunne,
Against a Knight Lurcanio by name,
That seekes to take away her life and fame.
45
This Knight hath her unto the King accused,
I thinke of malice rather then of right,
That he hath seene how she her selfe abused,
And closely tooke her lover up by night.
Now by the lawes that in this land are used,
Except she have a champion that by might
Within a month Lurcanio prove a lier,
She shall be straight condemned to the fier.
46
The Scottish law that breedeth all this strife,
Appoints that all of base or better sort,
That take a man except she be his wife,
And spends her time with him in Venus sport,
By cruell torment finish shall her life,
Except she find some Knight that will support,
That she the hainous fact hath not committed,
But that in law she ought to be acquitted.
47
The King for faire Geneura takes great thought,
Both for her safetie and her estimation,
And seeks by all good meanes that may be wrought
For her defence, and maketh proclamation,
That by whose helpe from danger she is brought,
(Provided he be one of noble nation)
Shall have the goodly damsell for his wife,
With livings large to keepe him all his life.
48
But if within this month that now ensuth,
(So little time for her defence is left her)
No Knight will come that will defend her truth,
Then friends and fame, and life will be bereft her,
This enterprise would much commend your youth,
The praise whereof would last a great while after:
And from Atlantas pillars unto Inde,
A fairer Ladie you shall never finde.
49
Now then beside the honour and the praise,
To have a state, may make you live content,
The Princes love (that helpeth many waies)
Whose honour now is halfe consumd and spent.
Againe true Knights should helpe at all assaies,
When any harme to Ladies faire is ment.
The very law of knighthood hath commanded,
To grant this aide that we have now demanded.
50
Renaldo pausd, and after thus he spake,
Why then (said he) must this faire damsell die,
TH_t for her true and secret lovers sake,
Did condescend within his armes to lie?
Accurst be they that such a law did make,
Accurst be they that meane to live thereby,
Nay rather point a punishment and paine
For such as do their lovers true disdaine.
51
If faire Geneura had her friend or no,
I stand not now the matter to decide,
Yea I would praise her had she done it so,
That by her foes it had not bene espide.
Be as be may, my meaning is to go
To fight for her, if I may have a guide
That will but shew me where is her accuser,
And I shall quickly prove he doth abuse her.
52
I know not of the fact she have committed,
Nor can I say in this the certaine sure:
But this I say, it ought to be remitted,
Much rather then she should distresse endure.
I further say, they were but meanly witted,
That did so straight a stature first procure.
I also say, this law they ought recall,
In place thereof a better to enstall.
53
Sith like desire the fancies doth possesse,
Both of the male and of the female gender,
To do that thing that fooles count great excesse,
And quench the flame that Cupid doth engender,
To grant the men more scope, the women lesse,
Is law for which no reason we can render.
Men using many never are ashamed,
But women using one or two are blamed.
54
This law I say is partiall and naught,
And doth to women plaine and open wrong,
I trust in God they shall be better taught,
And that this law shall be revokt ere long,
The Abbot and his Monks in word and thought,
Allowd Renaldos speech, both old and yong:
They all condemne the law, and partly blame
The king that may and mendeth not the same.
55
Next morning when Renaldo doth perceave
The Sunne appeare, and starres their heads to hide,
He thanks them for his cheare, and taketh leave,
And takes a target bearer for his guide,
For feare lest unknowne paths should him deceave,
Himselfe all armed doth on Bayard ride,
And to the Scottish court he goes a stranger,
For to defend the damsell faire from danger.
56
And for they thought to take a way more nie,
They leave the common way a mile or twaine,
When suddenly they heard a piteous crie,
Well like to one that feared to be slaine.
In hast they spurre their horses by and by,
Along the vale, and looking downe the plaine,
A maide betweene two murderers they saw,
That meant to take her life against all law.
57
The caitifes put the damsell in great feare,
And shewd that they were come to end her dayes,
Which made her weepe, and shed full many a teare,
To move their minds she trieth many wayes:
And though the fact a while they did forbeare,
Yet now they had removed all delayes,
When as Renaldo came unto her aid,
And made the malefactors sore afraid.
58
Away they fled and left the wench alone,
For dread of death appald and sore affrighted,
Who all her cause of danger and of mone,
Unto Renaldo straight would have recited,
But so great hast he maketh to be gone,
He gave no eare, nor from his horse alighted,
But to ensue the journey first assignd him,
He causd the guide to take her up behind him.
59
And now on horsebacke marking well her face,
And marking more her gesture and behaviour,
Her pleasing speech, and modest sober grace,
She now hath wonne a great deale more his favour,
And after he had rode a little space,
To tell her hard adventure he would have her:
And she began with humble voice and low,
As more at large hereafter I will show.
ARGUMENT
THE FIFTH BOOKE OF
ORLANDO FURIOSO
Dalinda tels what sleights her Duke devised,
To get with faire Geneura reputation:
Lureanio of his brothers fall advised,
Accusth her publikely of fornication.
A Knight unknowne in armour blacke disguised,
Comes and withstands Lurcanios accusation,
Untill Renaldo made all matters plaine,
By whom the unjust Duke was justly slaine.
FIFTH BOOKE
1
We see the rest of living creatures all,
Both birds and beasts that on the earth do dwell,
Live most in peace, or if they hap to brall,
The male and female still agreeth well.
The fierce, the faint, the greater nor the small,
Against the law of nature will rebell.
The savage Lions, Beares and Buls most wyld,
Unto their females shew themselves most myld.
2
What fiend of hell, what rage raignes here so rife,
Disturbing still the state of humane harts?
How comes it that we find twixt man and wife,
Continuall jarres bred by injurious parts?
The undefiled bed is filde by strife,
And teares that grow of words unkind and thwarts:
Nay oft all care and feare is so exiled,
Their guilty hands with blood have bene defiled.
3
No doubt they are accurst and past all grace,
And such as have of God nor man no feare,
That dare to strike a damsell in the face,
Or of her head to minish but a haire:
But who with knife or poison would unlace
Their line of life, or flesh in peeces teare,
No man, nor made of flesh and blood I deeme him,
But sure some hound of hell I do esteeme him.
4
Such were these theeves that would the damsell kill,
That by Renaldos comming was recovered:
They secretly had brought her downe the hill,
In hope their fact could never be discovered,
Yet such is God, so good his gracious will,
That when she looked least she was delivered,
And with a chearefull heart that late was sorie,
She doth begin to tell the wofull storie.
5
Good sir (said she) my conscience to discharge,
The greatest tyrannie I shall you tell,
That erst in Thebes, in Athens or in Arge,
Was ever wrought, or where worst tyrants dwell:
My voice and skill would faile to tell at large
The filthy fact, for I beleeve it well,
Upon this countrey Phoebus shines more cold,
Because he doth such wicked acts behold.
6
Men seeke we see, and have in every age,
To foile their foes, and tread them in the dust:
But there to wreake their rancor and their rage,
Where they are lovd, is foule and too unjust.
Love should prevaile, just anger to asswage,
If love bring death, whereto can women trust:
Yet love did breed my danger and my feare,
As you shall heare if you will give me eare.
7
For entring first into my tender spring,
Of youthfull yeares, unto the court I came,
And served there the daughter of our King,
And kept a place of honour with good fame,
Till love (alas that love such care should bring)
Envide my state, and sought to do me shame.
Love made the Duke of Alban seeme to me,
The fairest wight that erst mine eye did see.
8
And (for I thought he lovd me all above)
I bent my selfe to hold and love him best,
But now I find that hard it is to prove,
By sight or speech what bides in secret brest;
While I (poore I) did thus beleeve and love,
He gets my body, bed and all the rest.
Nor thinking this might breed my mistres wrong
Evn in her chamber this I practisd long.
9
Where all the things of greatest value lay,
And where Geneura sleepes her selfe sometime,
There at a window we did finde a way,
In secret sort to cover this our crime:
Here when my love and I were bent to play,
I taught him by a scale of cord to clime,
And at the window I my selfe would stand,
And let the ladder downe into his hand.
10
So oft we meete together at this sport,
As faire Geneuras absence gives us leave,
Who usd to other chambers to resort
In summer time, and this for heat to leave:
And this we carried in so secret sort,
As none there was our doings did perceave,
For why, this window standeth out of sight,
Where none do come by day nor yet by night.
11
Twixt us this use continud many dayes,
Yea many months we usd this privie traine,
Love set my heart on fire so many wayes,
That still my liking lasted to my paine.
I might have found by certaine strange delayes,
That he but little lovd and much did faine,
For all his sleights were not so closely covered,
But that they might full easly be discovered.
12
At last my Duke did seeme enflamed sore,
On faire Geneura: neither can I tell,
If now this love began or was before,
That I did come to court with her to dwell.
But looke if I were subject to his lore,
And looke if he my love requited well,
He askt my aid herein no whit ashamed,
To tell me how of her he was enflamed.
13
Not all of love, but partly of ambition,
He beares in hand his minde is onely bent,
Because of her great state and hie condition,
To have her for his wife is his intent:
He nothing doubteth of the Kings permission,
Had he obtaind Geneuras free assent.
Ne was it hard for him to take in hand,
That was the second person in the land.
14
He sware to me, if I would be so kind
His hie attempt to further and assist,
That at his hands I should great favour finde,
And of the King procure me what me list:
How he would ever keepe it in his mind,
And in his former love to me persist,
And notwithstanding wife and all the rest,
I should be sure that he would love me best.
15
I straight consented to his fond request,
As readie his commandment to obay,
And thinking still my time emploied best,
When I had pleasd his fancy any way:
And when I found a time then was I prest,
To talke of him, and good of him to say.
I used all my art, my wit, and paine,
Geneuras love and liking to obtaine.
16
God knoweth how glad I was to worke his will,
How diligent I followd his direction,
I spard no time, no travell nor no skill,
To this my Duke to kindle her affection:
But alwayes this attempt succeeded ill,
Love had her heart already in subjection,
A comely Knight did faire Geneura please,
Come to this countrie from beyond the seas.
17
From Italy for service (as I heare)
Unto the court he and his brother came,
In tourneys and in tilt he had no peere,
All Brittain soone was filled with his fame.
Our King did love him well and hold him deere,
And did by princely gifts confirme the same.
Faire castels, townes, and lordships, him he gave,
And made him great, such power great princes have.
18
Our Soveraigne much, his daughter likt him more,
And Ariodant this worthy Knight is named,
So brave in deeds of armes himselfe he bore,
No Ladie of his love need be ashamed:
The hill of Stoil burneth not so sore,
Nor is the mount Vesuvio so inflamed,
As Ariodantes heart was set on fire,
Geneuras beautie kindling his desire.
19
His certaine love by signes most certaine found,
Cause that my sute unwillingly was hard,
She well perceivd his love sincere and sound,
Enclining to his sute with great regard.
In vaine I seeke my Dukes love to expound,
The more I seeke to make the more I mard.
For while with words I seek to praise and grace him
No lesse with workes she striveth to deface him .
20
Thus being oft repulst (so ill sped I,)
To my too much beloved Duke I went,
And told him how her heart was fixt alreadie,
How on the stranger all her mind was bent.
And praid him now sith there was no remedie,
That to surcease his sute he would consent,
For Ariodant so lovd the princely maid,
That by no meanes his flames could be alaid.
21
When Polynesso (so the Duke we call)
This tale unpleasant oftentime had hard,
And of himselfe had found his hopes were small,
When with my words her deeds he had compard,
Greevd with repulse, and vexed therewithall,
To see this stranger thus to be prefard,
The love that late his heart so sore had burned,
Was cooled all, and into hatred turned.
22
Intending by some vile and subtill traine,
To part Geneura from her faithfull lover,
And plant so great mislike betweene them twaine,
Yet with so cunning shew the same to cover,
That her good name he will so foule distaine,
Alive nor dead she never shall recover.
But lest he might in this attempt be thwarted,
To none at all his secret he imparted.
23
Now thus resolvd (Dalinda faire) quoth he,
(I so am cald) you know though trees be topt,
And shrowded low, yet sprout yong shoots we see,
And issue from that head so lately lopt:
So in my love it fareth now with me.
Though by repulse cut short and shrewdly cropt,
The pared tops such buds of love do render,
That still I prove new passions there engender.
24
Ne do I deeme so deare the great delight,
As I disdaine I should be so reject,
And left this griefe should overcome me quight,
Because I faile to bring it to effect,
To please my fond conceit this very night,
I pray thee deare to do as I direct:
When faire Geneura to her bed is gone,
Take thou the clothes she ware and put them on.
25
As she is wont her golden haire to dresse,
In stately sort to wind it on her wire,
So you her poyson lively to expresse,
May dresse your owne and weare her head attire,
Her gorgets and her jewels rich no lesse,
You may put on taccomplish my desire.
And when unto the window I ascend,
I will my comming there you do attend.
26
Thus I may passe my fancies foolish fit,
And thus (quoth he) my selfe I would deceive.
And I that had no reason nor no wit,
His shamefull drift (though open) to perceive:
Did weare my mistresse robes that servd me fit,
And stood at window, there him to receive.
And of the fraud I was no whit aware,
Till that fell out that caused all my care.
27
Of late twixt him and Ariodant had past,
About Geneura faire these words or such,
(For why there was good friendship in times past
Betweene them two, till love their hearts did tuch)
The Duke such kind of speeches out did cast,
He said to Ariodant, he marveld much,
That seeing he did alwaies well regard him,
He should againe so thanklesly reward him.
28
I know you see (for needs it must be scene)
The good consent and matrimoniall love,
That long betweene Geneur and me hath beene,
For whom I meane ere long the King to move.
Why should you fondly thrust your selfe betweene?
Why should you rove your reach so farre above?
For if my case were yours I would forbeare,
Or if I knew that you so loved were.
29
And I much more (the other straight replies)
Do marvell you sir Duke are so unkind,
That know our love, and see it with your eyes,
(Except that wilfulnesse have made you blind)
That no man can more sured knots devise,
Then her to me, and me to her do bind,
Into this sute so rashly are intruded,
Still finding from all hope you are excluded.
30
Why beare you not to me the like respect,
As my good will requireth at your hand?
Since that our love is growne to this effect,
We meane to knit our selves in weddings band:
Which to fulfill ere long I do expect,
For know I am (though not in rents or land)
Yet in my Princes grace no whit inferiour,
And in his daughters, greatly your superiour.
31
Well (said the Duke) errors are hardly moved,
That love doth breed in unadvised brest.
Each thinkes himselfe to be the best beloved,
And yet but one of us is loved best.
Wherefore to have the matter plainly proved,
Which should proceed in love, and which should rest,
Let us agree that victor he remaine,
That of her liking sheweth signes most plaine.
32
I will be bound to you by solemne oth,
Your secrets all and counsell to conceale,
So you likewise will plight to me your troth,
The thing I shew you never to reveale.
To trie the matter thus they greed both,
And from this doome hereafter not repeale:
But on the Bible first they were deposed,
That this their speech should never be disclosed.
33
And first the stranger doth his state reveale,
And tell the truth in hope to end the strife,
How she had promist him in wo and weale,
To live with him, and love him all her life:
And how with writing with her hand and seale,
She had confirmed she would be his wife,
Except she were forbidden by her father,
For then to live unmarride she had rather.
34
And furthermore he nothing doubts (he said)
Of his good service so plaine proofe to show,
As that the King shall nothing be afraid,
On such a Knight his daughter to bestow:
And how in this he needeth little aid,
As finding still his favour greater grow,
He doubts not he will grant his liking after
That he shall know it pleaseth so his daughter.
35
And thus you see so sound stands mine estate,
That I my selfe in thought can wish no more.
Who seekes her now is sure to come too late,
For that he seekes is granted me before;
Now onely rests in marriage holy state,
To knit the knot that must dure evermore.
And for her praise, I need not to declare it,
As knowing none to whom I may compare it.
36
Thus Ariodant a tale most true declared,
And what reward he hoped for his paine,
But my false Duke that him had fouly snared,
And found by my great folly such a traine,
Doth sweare all this might no way be compared
With his, no though himselfe did judge remaine,
For I (quoth he) can shew signes so expresse,
As you your selfe inferiour shall confesse.
37
Alas (quoth he) I see you do not know
How cunningly these women can dissemble,
They least do love where they make greatest show,
And not to be the thing they most resemble.
But other favours I receive I trow,
When as we two do secretly assemble,
As I will tell you (though I should conceale it)
Because you promise never to reveale it.
38
The truth is this, that I full oft have seene
Her ivory corpes, and bene with her all night,
And naked laine her naked armes betweene,
And full enjoyde the fruites of loves delight:
Now judge who hath in greatest favour beene,
To which of us she doth pertaine in right,
And then give place, and yeeld to me mine owne,
Sith by just proofes I now have made it knowne.
39
Just proofes? (quoth Ariodant) nay shamefull lies,
Nor will I credit give to any word:
Is this the finest tale you can devise?
What, hopd you that with this I could be dord?
No, no, but sith a slander foule doth rise
By thee to her, maintaine it with thy sword,
I call thee lying traitor to thy face,
And meane to prove it in this present place.
40
Tush (quoth the Duke) it were a foolish part,
For you to fight with me that am your friend,
Sith plaine to shew without deceit or art,
As much as I have said I do intend.
These words did gripe poore Ariodantes hart,
Downe all his limbes a shivering doth descend,
And still he stood with eyes cast downe on ground,
Like one would fall into a deadly sound.
41
With wofull mind, with pale and chearlesse face,
With trembling voice that came from bitter thought
He said he much desird to see this place,
Where such strange feats and miracles were wrought.
Hath faire Geneura granted you this grace,
That I (quoth he) so oft in vaine have sought?
Now sure except I see it in my view,
I never will beleeve it can be trew.
42
The Duke did say he would with all his hart
Both shew him where and how the thing was done,
And straight from him to me he doth depart,
Whom to his purpose wholly he had wonne:
With both of us he playth so well his part,
That both of us thereby were quite undone.
First he tels him that he would have him placed
Among some houses falne and quite defaced.
43
Some ruind houses stood opposd direct
Against the window where he doth ascend,
But Ariodant discreetly doth suspect
That this false Duke some mischiefe did intend,
And thought that all did tend to this effect,
By trechery to bring him to his end,
That sure he had devised this pretence,
With mind to kill him ere he parted thence.
44
Thus though to see this sight he thought it long,
Yet tooke he care all mischiefe to prevent,
And if perhap they offer force or wrong,
By force the same for to resist he ment.
He had a brother valiant and strong,
Lurcanio cald, and straight for him he sent,
Not doubting but alone by his assistance,
Against twice twentie men to make resistance.
45
He bids his brother take his sword in hand,
And go into a place that he would guide,
And in a corner closely there to stand,
Aloofe from tother threescore paces wide,
The cause he would not let him understand,
But prayes him there in secret sort to bide,
Untill such time he hapt to heare him call,
Else (if he lovd him) not to stirre at all.
46
His brother would not his request denie,
And so went Ariodant into his place,
And undiscoverd closely there did lie,
Till having looked there a little space,
The craftie Duke to come he might descrie,
That meant the chast Geneura to deface,
Who having made to me his wonted signes,
I let him downe the ladder made of lines.
47
The gowne I ware was white, and richly set
With aglets, pearle, and lace of gold well garnished,
my stately tresses coverd with a net
Of beaten gold most pure and brightly varnished.
Not thus content, the vaile aloft I set,
Which only Princes weare: thus stately harnished,
And under Cupids banner bent to fight,
All unawares I stood in all their sight.
48
For why Lurcanio either taking care,
Lest Ariodant should in some danger go,
Or that he sought (as all desirous are)
The counsels of his dearest friend to know,
Close out of sight by secret steps and ware,
Hard at his heeles his brother followd so,
Till he was nearer come by fiftie paces,
And there againe himselfe he newly places.
49
But I that thought no ill, securely came
Unto the open window as I said.
For once or twice before I did the same,
And had no hurt, which made me lesse afraid:
I cannot boast (except I boast of shame)
When in her robes I had my selfe arraid,
Me thought before I was not much unlike her,
But certaine now I seemed very like her.
50
But Ariodant that stood so farre aloofe,
Was more deceivd by distance of the place,
And straight beleevd against his owne behoofe,
Seeing her clothes that he had seene her face.
Now Yet those judge that partly know by proofe,
The wofull plight of Ariodantes case,
When Polynesso came my faithlesse frend,
In both their sights the ladder to ascend.
51
I that his comming willingly did wait,
And he once come thought nothing went amisse,
Embracd him kindly at the first receit,
His lips, his cheeks, and all his face did kisse,
And he the more to colour his deceit,
Did use me kinder then he had ere this.
This sight much care to Ariodante brought,
Thinking Geneura with the Duke was nought.
52
The griefe and sorrow sinketh so profound
Into his heart, he straight resolves to die,
He puts the pummell of his sword on ground,
And meanes himselfe upon the point to lie:
Which when Lurcanio saw and plainly found,
That all this while was closely standing by,
And Polynessos comming did discerne,
Though who it was he never yet could learne.
53
He held his brother for the present time,
That else himselfe for griefe had surely slaine,
Who had he not stood nigh and come betime,
His words and speeches had bene all in vaine.
What shall (quoth he) a faithlesse womans crime,
Cause you to die or put your selfe to paine?
Nay let them go, and curst be all their kind,
Ay borne like clouds with evry blast of wind.
54
You rather should some just revenge devise,
As she deserves, to bring her to confusion:
Sith we have plainly seene with both our eyes,
Her filthy fact appeare without collusion.
Love those that love againe, if you be wise,
For of my counsell this is the conclusion,
Put up your sword against your selfe prepared,
And let her sinne be to the King declared.
55
His brothers words in Ariodantes mind
Seeme for the time to make some small impression,
But still the curelesse wound remaind behind,
Despaire had of his heart the full possession.
And though he knew the thing he had assignd,
Contrary to a Christian knights profession:
Yet here on earth he torment felt so sore,
In hell it selfe he thought there was no more.
56
And seeming now after a little pause,
Unto his brothers counsell to consent,
He from the court next day himselfe withdrawes,
And makes none privie unto his intent.
His brother and the Duke both knew the cause,
But neither knew the place whereto he went:
Divers thereof most diversly did judge,
Some by good will perswaded, some by grudge.
57
Sevn dayes entire about for him they sought,
Sevn dayes entire no newes of him was found,
The eight a peasant to Geneura brought
These newes, that in the sea he saw him drownd:
Not that the waters were with tempest wrought,
Nor that his ship was stricken on the ground.
How then? Forsooth (quoth he) and therewith wept,
Downe from a rocke into the sea he lept.
58
And further he unto Geneura told,
How he met Ariodant upon the way,
Who made him go with him for to behold
The wofull act that he would do that day.
And charged him the matter to unfold,
And to his Princes daughter thus to say,
Had he been blind, he had full happie beene,
His death should shew that he too much had seene.
59
There stands a rocke against the Irish ile,
From thence into the sea himselfe he cast:
I stood and looked after him awhile,
The height and steepnesse made me sore agast,
I thence have traveld hither many a mile,
To shew you plainly how the matter past.
When as the clowne his tale had verifide,
Geneuras heart was throughly terrifide.
60
O Lord what wofull words by her were spoken,
Laid all alone upon her restlesse bed!
Oft did she strike her guiltlesse brest in token
Of that great griefe that inwardly was bred:
Her golden tresses all were rent and broken,
Recounting still those wofull words he sed,
How that the cause his cruell death was such,
Was onely this, that he had seene too much.
61
The rumor of his death spread farre and neare,
And how for sorrow he himselfe had killed,
The King was sad, the court of heavy cheare,
By Lords and Ladies many teares were spilled.
His brother most, as loving him most deare,
Had so his mind with sorrow overfilled,
That he was scantly able to refraine,
With his owne hands himselfe for to have slaine.
62
And oftentimes repeating in his thought,
The filthy fact he saw the other night,
Which (as you heard) the Duke and I had wrought,
I little looking it would come to light,
And that the same his brothers death had brought,
On faire Geneura he doth wreake his spight,
Not caring (so did wrath him overwhelme)
To leese the Kings good will and all his realme.
63
The King and Nobles sitting in the hall,
Right pensive all for Ariodants destruction,
Lurcanio undertakes before them all,
To give them perfect notice and instruction
Who was the cause of Ariodantes fall:
And having made some little introduction,
He said it was unchast Geneuras crime,
That made him kill himselfe before his time.
64
What should I seeke to hide his good intent?
His love was such as greater none could be,
He hopd to have your highnesse free assent,
When you his value and his worth should see:
But while a plaine and honest way he went,
Behold he saw another climb the tree,
And in the midst of all his hope and sute,
Another tooke the pleasure and the frute.
65
He further said, not that he had surmised,
But that his eies had seene Geneura stand,
And at a window as they had devised,
Let down a ladder to her lovers hand,
But in such sort he had himselfe disguised,
That who it was he could not understand.
And for due proofe of this his accusation,
He bids the combat straight by proclamation.
66
How sore the King was grievd to heare these newes,
I leave it as a thing not hard to guesse,
Lurcanio plaine his daughter doth accuse,
Of whom the King did looke for nothing lesse:
And this the more his feare and care renewes,
That on this point the lawes are so expresse,
Except by combat it be provd a lie,
Needs must Geneura be condemnd to die.
67
How hard the Scottish law is in this case,
I do not doubt but you have heard it told,
How she that doth another man embrace,
Beside her husband, be she yong or old,
Must die, except within two fortnights space,
She find a champion stout that will uphold,
That unto her no punishment is due,
But he that doth accuse her is untrue.
68
The King (of crime that thinkes Geneura cleare)
Makes offer her to wed to any Knight,
That will in armes defend his daughter deare,
And prove her innocent in open fight.
Yet for all this no champion doth appeare,
Such feare they have of this Lurcanios might.
One gazeth on another as they stand,
But none of them the combat takes in hand.
69
And further by ill fortune and mischance,
Her brother Zerbin now is absent thence,
And gone to Spaine (I thinke) or else to France,
Who were he here, she could not want defence,
Or if perhaps so lucky were her chance,
To send him notice of her need from hence,
Had she the presence of her noble brother,
She should not need the aide of any other.
70
The King that meanes to make a certaine triall,
If faire Geneura guilty be or no,
(For still she stiffly stood in the deniall,
Of this that wrought her undeserved wo)
Examines all her maids, but they reply all,
That of the matter nothing they did know.
Which made me seek for to prevent the danger,
The Duke and I might have about the stranger.
71
And thus for him more then my selfe afraid,
(So faithfull love to this false Duke I bare)
I gave him notice of these things, and said,
That he had need for both of us beware.
He praisd my constant love, and farther praid,
That I would credit him, and take no care.
He points two men (but both to me unknowne)
To bring me to a castle of his owne.
72
Now sir, I thinke you find by this effect,
How soundly I did love him from my heart,
And how I provd by plaine course and direct,
My meaning was not any wayes to start:
Now marke if he to me bare like respect,
And marke if he requited my desart,
Alas how shall a silly wench attaine,
By loving truely to be lovd againe.
73
This wicked Duke ungratefull and perjured,
Beginneth now of me to have mistrust,
His guilty conscience could not be assured,
How to conceale his wicked acts unjust,
Except my death (though causlesse) be procured,
So hard his heart, so lawlesse was his lust.
He said he would me to his castle send,
But that same castle should have beene mine end.
74
He wild my guides when they were past that hill,
And to the thicket a little way descended,
That there (to quite my love) they should me kill,
Which as you saw, they to have done intended,
Had not your happy comming stopt their will,
That (God and you be thankt) I was defended.
This tale Dalinda to Renaldo told,
And all the while their journey on they hold.
75
This strange adventure luckily befell
To good Renaldo, for that now he found,
By this Dalinda that this tale did tell,
Geneuras mind unspotted cleare and sound,
And now his courage was confirmed well,
That wanted erst a true and certaine ground:
For though before for her he meant to fight,
Yet rather now for to defend the right.
76
To great S. Andrewes towne he maketh hast,
Whereas the King was set with all his traine,
Most carefull waiting for the trumpets blast,
That must pronounce his daughters joy or paine.
But now Renaldo spurred had so fast,
He was arrivd within a mile or twaine,
And through the Village as he then was riding,
He met a page that brought them fresher tiding.
77
How there was come a Warriour all disguised,
That meant to prove Lurcanio said untreu,
His colours and his armour well devised,
In maner and in making very new:
And though that sundry sundrily surmised,
Yet who it was for certaine no man knew.
His page demaunded of his masters name,
Did sweare he never heard it since he came.
78
Now came Renaldo to the City wall,
And at the gate but little time he staid,
The porter was so ready at his call:
But poore Dalinda now grew sore afraid,
Renaldo bids her not to feare at all,
For why he would her pardon beg he said:
So thrusting in among the thickest rout,
He saw them stand on scaffolds all about.
79
It straight was told him by the standers by,
How there was thither c