Orlando Furioso Part 135

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

XCVII Some bow and some salute him; of the rest Some kist the warrior's feet, and some his hand.

Round him as closely as they could they prest, And happy those are deemed, that nearest stand; More those that touch him; for to touch a blest And supernatural thing believes the band.

On him with shouts that rent the heavens they cried, To be their king, their captain, and their guide.

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

XCIX A thousand miles and more for this alone He thither measured, and for nought beside.

He saith; and from the mult.i.tude is gone, And by a road that's shown to him doth ride.

For towards the bridge is royal Leo flown; Haply lest him from this the foe divide: Behind him p.r.i.c.ks Rogero with such fire, The warrior calls not, nor awaits, his squire.

C Such vantage Leo has in flight (to flee He rather may be said than to retreat) The pa.s.sage open hath he found and free; And then destroys the bridge and burns his fleet.

Rogero arrived not, till beneath the sea The sun was hid; nor lodging found; his beat He still pursued; and now shone forth the moon: But town or village found the warrior none.

CI Because he wots not where to lodge, he goes All night, nor from his load Frontino frees.

When the new sun his early radiance shows, A city to the left Rogero sees; And there all day determines to repose, As where he may his wearied courser ease, Whom he so far that livelong night had pressed; Nor had he drawn his bit, nor given him rest.

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

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

CIV He by the buckler knew as soon as spied The cavalier, whose arms that blazon bear, For him that routed the Byzantine side; By hand of whom so many slaughtered were.

He hurried to the palace, and applied For audience, weighty tidings to declare; And, to Ungiardo led forthwith, rehea.r.s.ed What shall by men in other strain be versed.

CANTO 45

ARGUMENT Young Leo doth from death Rogero free; For him Rogero Bradamant hath won, Making that maid appear less strong to be, Disguised in fight like Leo; and, that done, Straight in despite would slay himself; so he By sorrow, so by anguish is foredone.

To hinder Leo of his destined wife Marphisa works, and kindles mighty strife.

I By how much higher we see poor mortal go On Fortune's wheel, which runs a restless round, We so much sooner see his head below His heels; and he is prostrate on the ground.

The Lydian, Syracusan, Samian show This truth, and more whose names I shall not sound; All into deepest dolour in one day Hurled headlong from the height of sovereign sway.

II By how much more deprest on the other side, By how much more the wretch is downwards hurled, He so much sooner mounts, where he shall ride, If the revolving wheel again be twirled.

Some on the murderous block have well-nigh died, That on the following day have ruled the world.

Ventidius, Servius, Marius this have shown In ancient days; King Lewis in our own;

III King Lewis, stepfather of my duke's son; Who, when his host at Santalbino fled, Left in his clutch by whom that field was won, Was nigh remaining shorter by the head.

Nor long before the great Corvinus run A yet more fearful peril, worse bested: Both throned, when overblown was their mischance, One king of Hungary, one king of France.

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

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

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

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

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

IX And that undriven he should have made his way Into the net, and of his own accord, Wondered, and showed his pleasure, at the say In visage, gesture, and in joyful word.

He waited till Rogero sleeping lay; Then softly sent his guard to take that lord; And made the valiant Child, who had no dread Of such a danger, prisoner in his bed.

X By his own shield accused, that witness true, The Child is captive in Novogorood, To Ungiardo, worst among the cruel, who Marvellous mirth to have that prisoner shewed.

And what, since he was naked, could he do, Bound, while his eyes were yet by slumber glued?

A courier, who the news should quickly bear, Ungiardo bids to Constantine repair.

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

XII Here from attack the emperor makes a.s.sure The city walls and gates on every side; Lest, from the Bulgar squadrons ill secure, Having so good a warrior for their guide, His broken Grecians worse than fear endure; Deeming the rest would by his hand have died.

Now he is taken, these breed no alarms; Nor would he fear the banded world in arms.

XIII The emperor, swimming in a summer sea, Knows not for very pleasure what to do: "Truly the Bulgars may be said to be Vanquished," he cries, with bold and cheerful brow.

As he would feel a.s.sured of victory, That had of either arm deprived his foe; So the emperor was a.s.sured, and so rejoiced, When good Rogero's fate the warrior voiced.

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

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

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

XVII "Thou seest how righteous Heaven by pity stirred From the wide champaign, red with Grecian gore, Bears that fell man; and like a reckless bird Into the fowler's net hath made him soar; That for short season, for revenge deferred, My son may mourn upon the Stygian sh.o.r.e.

Give me, my lord, I pray, this cruel foe, That by his torment I may soothe my woe."

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

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

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

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

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

Hence quickly through the world the bruit was blown.

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

XXIV The choice of arms must be by her foregone, No matter who may claim it in the course: And by the damsel this may well be done, Good at all arms alike, on foot or horse.

Aymon, who cannot strive against the crown, -- Cannot and will not -- yields at length parforce.

He much the matter sifts, and in the end Resolves to court with Bradamant to wend.

XXV Though for the daughter choler and disdain The mother nursed, yet that she honour due Might have, she garments, dyed in different grain, Had wrought for her, of various form and hue.

Bradamant for the court of Charlemagne Departs, and finding not her love, to her view His n.o.ble court appears like that no more, Which had appeared to her so fair before.

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

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