The Works of Lord Byron Volume IV Part 47

XIV.

"If thou rememberest being in Gascony, When there advanced the nations out of Spain The Christian cause had suffered shamefully, Had not his valour driven them back again.

Best speak the truth when there's a reason why: Know then, oh Emperor! that all complain: As for myself, I shall repa.s.s the mounts O'er which I crossed with two and sixty counts.

XV.

"'Tis fit thy grandeur should dispense relief, So that each here may have his proper part, For the whole court is more or less in grief: Perhaps thou deem'st this lad a Mars in heart?"

Orlando one day heard this speech in brief, As by himself it chanced he sate apart: Displeased he was with Gan because he said it, But much more still that Charles should give him credit.

XVI.

And with the sword he would have murdered Gan, But Oliver thrust in between the pair, And from his hand extracted Durlindan, And thus at length they separated were.

Orlando angry too with Carloman, Wanted but little to have slain him there; Then forth alone from Paris went the Chief, And burst and maddened with disdain and grief.

XVII.

From Ermellina, consort of the Dane, He took Cortana, and then took Rondell, And on towards Brara p.r.i.c.ked him o'er the plain; And when she saw him coming, Aldabelle Stretched forth her arms to clasp her lord again: Orlando, in whose brain all was not well, As "Welcome, my Orlando, home," she said, Raised up his sword to smite her on the head.

XVIII.

Like him a Fury counsels, his revenge On Gan in that rash act he seemed to take, Which Aldabella thought extremely strange; But soon Orlando found himself awake; And his spouse took his bridle on this change, And he dismounted from his horse, and spake Of every thing which pa.s.sed without demur, And then reposed himself some days with her.

XIX.

Then full of wrath departed from the place, As far as pagan countries roamed astray, And while he rode, yet still at every pace The traitor Gan remembered by the way; And wandering on in error a long s.p.a.ce, An abbey which in a lone desert lay, 'Midst glens obscure, and distant lands, he found, Which formed the Christian's and the Pagan's bound.

XX.

The Abbot was called Clermont, and by blood Descended from Angrante: under cover Of a great mountain's brow the abbey stood, But certain savage giants looked him over; One Pa.s.samont was foremost of the brood, And Alabaster and Morgante hover Second and third, with certain slings, and throw In daily jeopardy the place below.

XXI.

The monks could pa.s.s the convent gate no more, Nor leave their cells for water or for wood; Orlando knocked, but none would ope, before Unto the Prior it at length seemed good; Entered, he said that he was taught to adore Him who was born of Mary's holiest blood, And was baptized a Christian; and then showed How to the abbey he had found his road.

XXII.

Said the Abbot, "You are welcome; what is mine We give you freely, since that you believe With us in Mary Mother's Son divine; And that you may not, Cavalier, conceive The cause of our delay to let you in To be rusticity, you shall receive The reason why our gate was barred to you: Thus those who in suspicion live must do.

XXIII.

"When hither to inhabit first we came These mountains, albeit that they are obscure, As you perceive, yet without fear or blame They seemed to promise an asylum sure: From savage brutes alone, too fierce to tame, 'Twas fit our quiet dwelling to secure; But now, if here we'd stay, we needs must guard Against domestic beasts with watch and ward.

XXIV.

"These make us stand, in fact, upon the watch; For late there have appeared three giants rough, What nation or what kingdom bore the batch I know not, but they are all of savage stuff; When Force and Malice with some genius match, You know, they can do all--_we_ are not enough: And these so much our orisons derange, I know not what to do, till matters change.

XXV.

"Our ancient fathers, living the desert in, For just and holy works were duly fed; Think not they lived on locusts sole, 'tis certain That manna was rained down from heaven instead; But here 'tis fit we keep on the alert in Our bounds, or taste the stones showered down for bread, From off yon mountain daily raining faster, And flung by Pa.s.samont and Alabaster.

XXVI.

"The third, Morgante, 's savagest by far; he Plucks up pines, beeches, poplar-trees, and oaks, And flings them, our community to bury; And all that I can do but more provokes."

While thus they parley in the cemetery, A stone from one of their gigantic strokes, Which nearly crushed Rondell, came tumbling over, So that he took a long leap under cover.

XXVII.

"For G.o.d-sake, Cavalier, come in with speed; The manna's falling now," the Abbot cried.

"This fellow does not wish my horse should feed, Dear Abbot," Roland unto him replied, "Of restiveness he'd cure him had he need; That stone seems with good will and aim applied."

The holy father said, "I don't deceive; They'll one day fling the mountain, I believe."

XXVIII.

Orlando bade them take care of Rondello, And also made a breakfast of his own; "Abbot," he said, "I want to find that fellow Who flung at my good horse yon corner-stone."

Said the abbot, "Let not my advice seem shallow; As to a brother dear I speak alone; I would dissuade you, Baron, from this strife, As knowing sure that you will lose your life.

XXIX.

"That Pa.s.samont has in his hand three darts-- Such slings, clubs, ballast-stones, that yield you must: You know that giants have much stouter hearts Than us, with reason, in proportion just: If go you will, guard well against their arts, For these are very barbarous and robust."

Orlando answered," This I'll see, be sure, And walk the wild on foot to be secure."

x.x.x.

The Abbot signed the great cross on his front, "Then go you with G.o.d's benison and mine."

Orlando, after he had scaled the mount, As the Abbot had directed, kept the line Right to the usual haunt of Pa.s.samont; Who, seeing him alone in this design, Surveyed him fore and aft with eyes observant, Then asked him, "If he wished to stay as servant?"

x.x.xI.

And promised him an office of great ease.

But, said Orlando, "Saracen insane!

I come to kill you, if it shall so please G.o.d, not to serve as footboy in your train; You with his monks so oft have broke the peace-- Vile dog! 'tis past his patience to sustain."

The Giant ran to fetch his arms, quite furious, When he received an answer so injurious.

x.x.xII.

And being returned to where Orlando stood, Who had not moved him from the spot, and swinging The cord, he hurled a stone with strength so rude, As showed a sample of his skill in slinging; It rolled on Count Orlando's helmet good And head, and set both head and helmet ringing, So that he swooned with pain as if he died, But more than dead, he seemed so stupified.

x.x.xIII.

Then Pa.s.samont, who thought him slain outright, Said, "I will go, and while he lies along, Disarm me: why such craven did I fight?"

But Christ his servants ne'er abandons long, Especially Orlando, such a knight, As to desert would almost be a wrong.

While the giant goes to put off his defences, Orlando has recalled his force and senses:

x.x.xIV.

And loud he shouted, "Giant, where dost go?

Thou thought'st me doubtless for the bier outlaid; To the right about--without wings thou'rt too slow To fly my vengeance--currish renegade!

'Twas but by treachery thou laid'st me low."