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Orlando Furioso

Chapter 15: CANTO 15
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About This Book

A sprawling Renaissance epic weaves martial campaigns, courtly love, and fantastic adventure into an episodic sequence of cantos. Knights pursue honor, desire, and destiny across enchanted woods, besieged cities, and remote islands while sorcery and trickery reshape contests and alliances. One thread follows a celebrated warrior driven to rage and madness by obsessive love; another traces a foretold union between a valiant woman and a noble pagan that propels quests, rescues, and magical impediments. Comic digressions, dreamlike voyages, and moral puzzles puncture heroic conventions as themes of fate, chivalry, conversion, and the instability of desire recirculate through interlaced tales.

  VIII
  'Tis meet King Lewis should find new supplies
  Of chiefs by whom his troops may be arrayed,
  Who for the lilies' honour shall chastise
  The hands which so rapaciously have preyed;
  Who brethren, black and white, in shameful wise,
  Have outraged, sister, mother, wife, and maid,
  And cast on earth Christ's sacrament divine,
  With the intent to thieve his silver shrine.

  IX
  Hadst thou not made resistance to thy foe,
  Better, Ravenna, had it been for thee,
  And thou been warned by Brescia's fate, than so
  Thine should Faenza warn and Rimini.
  O Lewis, bid good old Trivulzio go
  With thine, and to thy bands example be,
  And tell what ills such license still has bred,
  Heaping our ample Italy with dead.

  X
  As the illustrious King of France has need
  Of captains to supply his leaders lost,
  So the two kings who Spain and Afric lead,
  To give new order to the double host,
  Resolve their bands should muster on the mead,
  From winter lodgings moved and various post;
  That they may furnish, as their wants demand,
  A guide and government to every band.

  XI
  Marsilius first, and after Agramant,
  Passing it troop by troop their army scan.
  The Catalonians, who their captain vaunt
  In Doriphoebus, muster in the van;
  And next, without their monarch Fulvirant,
  Erst killed by good Rinaldo, comes the clan
  Of bold Navarre; whose guideless band to steer
  The King of Spain appoints Sir Isolier.

  XII
  With Balugantes Leon's race comes on,
  The Algarbi governed by Grandonio wheel.
  The brother of Marsilius, Falsiron,
  Brings up with him the power of Less Castile.
  They follow Madarasso's gonfalon,
  Who have left Malaga and fair Seville,
  'Twixt fruitful Cordova and Cadiz-bay,
  Where through green banks the Betis winds its way.

  XIII
  Stordilane, Tessira, and Baricond,
  After each other, next their forces stirred;
  This in Grenada, that in Lisbon crowned;
  Majorca was obedient to the third.
  Larbino had Lisbon ruled, whose golden round
  Was at his death on Tessira conferred;
  His kinsman he: Gallicia came in guide
  Or Serpentine, who Mericold supplied.

  XIV
  They of Toledo and of Calatrave,
  Who erst with Sinnagon's broad banner spread,
  Marched, and the multitude who drink and lave
  Their limbs in chrystal Guadiana's bed,
  Came thither, under Matalista brave;
  Beneath Bianzardin, their common head,
  Astorga, Salamanca, Placenza,
  With Avila, Zamorra, and Palenza.

  XV
  The household-troops which guard Marsilius' state,
  And Saragossa's men, Ferrau commands;
  And in this force, well-sheathed in mail and plate,
  Bold Malgarine and Balinverno stands;
  Morgant and Malzarise, whom common fate
  Had both condemned to dwell in foreign lands,
  Who, when dethroned, had to Marsilius' court
  (There hospitably harboured) made resort.

  XVI
  Follicon, Kind Marsilius' bastard, hies
  With valiant Doricont; amid this horde,
  Bavartes, Analard, and Argalise,
  And Archidantes, the Saguntine lord.
  Here, Malagur, in ready cunning wise,
  And Ammirant and Langhiran the sword
  Unsheath, and march; of whom I shall endite,
  When it is time, their prowess to recite.

  XVII
  When so had filed the warlike host of Spain
  In fair review before King Agramant,
  Appeared King Oran with his martial train,
  Who might almost a giant's stature vaunt;
  Next they who weep their Martasino, slain
  By the avenging sword of Bradamant,
  King of the Garamantes, and lament
  That woman triumphs in their monarch spent.

  XVIII
  Marmonda's men next past the royal Moor,
  Who left Argosto dead on Gascon meads;
  And this unguided band, like that before,
  As well as the fourth troop, a captain needs.
  Although King Agramant has little store
  Of chiefs, he feigns a choice, and thinks; next speeds
  Buraldo, Ormida, and Arganio tried,
  Where needing, the unordered troops to guide.

  XIX
  He give Arganio charge of Libicane,
  Who wept the sable Dudrinasso dead.
  Brunello guides the men of Tingitane,
  With cloudy countenance and drooping head;
  Who since he in the wooded mountain-chain
  (Nigh where Atlantes dwelt), to her he led,
  Fair Bradamant, had lost the virtuous ring,
  Had lived in the displeasure of his king;

  XX
  And but that Ferrau's brother Isolier,
  Who fastened to a stem had found him there,
  Made to King Agramant the truth appear,
  He from the gallows-tree had swung in air:
  Already fastened was the noose, and near
  The caitiff's fate, when at the many's prayer
  The king bade loose him; but reprieving, swore,
  For his first fault to hang, offending more.

  XXI
  Thus, not without a cause, Brunello pined,
  And showed a mournful face, and hung his head.
  Next Farurantes; to whose care consigned,
  Maurina's valiant horse and footmen tread.
  The new-made king Libanio comes behind,
  By whom are Constatina's people led:
  Since Agramant the crown and staff of gold,
  Once Pinador's, had given to him to hold.

  XXII
  Hesperia's people come with Soridan,
  With Dorilon the men of Setta ride;
  The Nasamonians troop with Pulian,
  And Agricaltes is Ammonia's guide.
  Malabupherso rules o'er Fezzan's clan,
  And Finaduro leads the band supplied
  By the Canary Islands and Morocco:
  Balastro fills the place of king Tardocco.

  XXIII
  Next Mulga and Arzilla's legions two.
  The first beneath their ancient captains wend;
  The second troop without a leader, who
  Are given to Corineus, the sovereign's friend.
  So (late Tanphirion's) Almonsilla's crew,
  To a new monarch in Caichus bend.
  Goetulia is bestowed on Rhimedont,
  And Cosca comes in charge of Balinfront.

  XXIV
  Ruled by Clarindo, Bolga's people go,
  Who fills the valiant Mirabaldo's post:
  Him Baliverso, whom I'd have you know
  For the worst ribald in that ample host,
  Succeeded next. I think not, 'mid that show,
  The bannered camp a firmer troop could boast
  Than that which followed in Sobrino's care;
  Nor Saracen than him more wise and ware.

  XXV
  Gualciotto dead, Bellamarina's crew,
  (His vassals) serve, the sovereign of Algiers,
  King Rodomont, of Sarza; that anew
  Brought up a band of foot and cavaliers:
  Whom, when the cloudy sun his rays withdrew
  Beneath the Centaur and the Goat, his spears
  There to recruit, was sent to the Afric shore
  By Agramant, returned three days before.

  XXVI
  There was no Saracen of bolder strain,
  Of all the chiefs who Moorish squadrons led;
  And Paris-town (nor is the terror vain)
  More of the puissant warrior stands in dread
  Than of King Agramant and all the train,
  Which he, or the renowned Marsilius head;
  And amid all that mighty muster, more
  Than others, hatred to our faith he bore.

  XXVII
  Prusion is the Alvaracchia's king: below
  King Dardinello's flag Zumara's power
  Is ranged. I wot not, I, if owl or crow,
  Or other bird ill-omened, which from tower
  Or tree croaks future evil, did foreshow
  To one or to the other, that the hour
  Was fixed in heaven, when on the following day
  Either should perish in this deadly fray.

  XXVIII
  Noritia's men and Tremisene's alone
  Were wanting to complete the paynim host;
  But in the martial muster sign was none,
  Nor tale, nor tiding of the squadrons lost;
  To wondering Agramant alike unknown,
  What kept the slothful warriors from their post,
  When of King Tremisene's a squire was brought
  Before him, who at large the mischief taught;

  XXIX
  — Who taught how Manilardo was laid low,
  Alzirdo, and many others, on the plain.
  — "Sir," said the bearer of the news, "the foe
  Who slew our troop, would all thy camp have slain,
  If thine assembled host had been more slow
  Than me, who, as it was, escaped with pain.
  This man slays horse and foot, as in the cote,
  The wolf makes easy waste of sheep and goat."

  XXX
  Where the bold Africans their standards plant,
  A warrior had arrived some days before;
  Nor was there in the west, or whole Levant,
  A knight, with heart or prowess gifted more.
  To him much grace was done by Agramant,
  As successor of Agrican, who wore
  The crown of Tartary, a warrior wight;
  The son the famous Mandricardo hight.

  XXXI
  Renowned he was for many a glorious quest
  Atchieved, and through the world his fame was blown.
  But him had glorified above the rest
  Worth in the Syrian fairy's castle shown:
  Where mail, which cased the Trojan Hector's breast
  A thousand years before, he made his own.
  And finished that adventure, strange and fell;
  A story which breeds terror but to tell.

  XXXII
  When the squire told his news amid that show
  Of troops, was present Agrican's bold son,
  Who raised his daring face, resolved to go
  And find the warrior who the deed had done;
  But the design he hatched, forebore to show;
  As making small account of any one,
  Or fearing lest, should he reveal his thought,
  The quest by other champion might be sought.

  XXXIII
  He of the squire demanded what the vest
  And bearings, which the valiant stranger wore;
  Who answered that he went without a crest,
  And sable shield and sable surcoat bore.
  — And, sir, 'twas true; for so was Roland drest;
  The old device renounced he had before:
  For as he mourned within, so he without,
  The symbols of his grief would bear about.

  XXXIV
  Marsilius had to Mandricardo sped,
  As gift, a courser of a chestnut stain,
  Whose legs and mane were sable; he was bred
  Between a Friesland mare and nag of Spain.
  King Mandricardo, armed from foot to head,
  Leapt on the steed and galloped o'er the plain,
  And swore upon the camp to turn his back
  Till he should find the champion clad in black.

  XXXV
  The king encounters many of the crew
  Whom good Orlando's arm had put to flight;
  And some a son, and some a brother rue,
  Who in the rout had perished in their sight;
  And in the coward's cheek of pallid hue
  Is yet pourtrayed the sad and craven sprite:
  — Yet, through the fear endured, they far and nigh,
  Pallid, and silent, and insensate fly.

  XXXVI
  Nor he long was had rode, ere he descried
  A passing-cruel spectacle and sore;
  But which the wonderous feats well testified,
  That were recounted Agramant before.
  Now on this hand, now that, the dead he eyed,
  Measured their wounds, and turned their bodies o'er;
  Moved by strange envy of the knight whose hand
  Had strown the champaign with the slaughtered band.

  XXXVII
  As wolf or mastiff-dog, who comes the last
  Where the remains of slaughtered bullock lie,
  And finds but horn and bones, where rich repast
  Had fed the ravening hound and vulture night,
  Glares vainly on the scull, unsmacked; so passed
  The barbarous Tartar king those bodies by;
  And grudged, lamenting, like the hungry beast,
  To have come too late for such a sumptuous feast.

  XXXVIII
  That day, and half the next, in search he strayed
  Of him who wore the sable vest and shield.
  When lo! he saw a mead, o'ertopt with shade,
  Where a deep river wound about the field,
  With narrow space between the turns it made,
  Where'er from side to side the water wheeled.
  Even such a spot as this with circling waves
  Below Otricoli the Tyber laves.

  XXXIX
  Where this deep stream was fordable, he scanned
  A crowd of cavaliers that armour bore:
  And these the paynim questioned who had manned,
  With such a troop, and to what end, the shore?
  To him replied the captain of the band,
  Moved by his lordly air, and arms he wore,
  Glittering with gold and jewels, — costly gear,
  Which showed him an illustrious cavalier.

  XL
  "In charge" (he said) "we of the daughter go
  Of him our king, who fills Granada's throne,
  Espoused by Rodomont of Sarza, though
  To fame the tidings are as yet unknown.
  And we, departing when the sun is low,
  And the cicala hushed, which now alone
  Is heard, shall bring her where her father keeps
  I' the Spanish camp; meanwhile the lady sleeps."

  XLI
  He who for scorn had daffed the world aside,
  Designs to see at once, how able were
  Those horsemen to defend the royal bride,
  Committed by their sovereign to their care.
  "The maid, by what I hear, is fair" (he cried).
  "Fain would I now be certified, how fair:
  Then me to her, or her to me convey,
  For I must quickly wend another way."

  XLII
  "Thou needs art raving mad," replied in few
  The chief, — nor more. But with his lance in rest,
  The Tartar monarch at the speaker flew,
  And with the levelled spear transfixed his breast.
  For the point pierced the yielding corslet through,
  And lifeless he, perforce, the champaign prest.
  The son of Agrican his lance regained,
  Who weaponless without the spear remained.

  XLIII
  Now sword nor club the warlike Tartar bore,
  Since, when the Trojan Hector's plate and chain
  He gained, because the faulchion lacked, he swore
  (To this obliged), nor swore the king in vain,
  That save he won the blade Orlando wore,
  He would no other grasp, — that Durindane.
  Held in high value by Almontes bold,
  Which Roland bears, and Hector bore of old.

  XLIV
  Great is the Tartar monarch's daring, those
  At such a disadvantage to assay,
  He pricks, with levelled lance, among his foes,
  Shouting, in fury, — "Who shall bar my way?" —
  Round and about him suddenly they close;
  These draw the faulchion, and those others lay
  The spear in rest: a multitude he slew,
  Before his lance was broke upon the crew.

  XLV
  When this he saw was broke, the truncheon sound
  And yet entire, he took, both hands between,
  And with so many bodies strewed the ground,
  That direr havoc never yet was seen:
  And as with that jaw bone, by hazard found,
  The Hebrew Samson slew the Philistine,
  Crushed helm and shield; and often side by side,
  Slain by the truncheon, horse and rider died.

  XLVI
  In running to their death the wretches vie,
  Nor cease because their comrades perish near:
  Yet bitterer in such a mode to die,
  Than death itself, does to the troop appear.
  They grudge to forfeit precious life, and lie
  Crushed by the fragment of a broken spear;
  And think foul scorn beneath the pounding stake
  Strangely to die the death of frog or snake.

  XLVII
  But after they at their expense had read
  That it was ill to die in any way,
  And near two thirds were now already dead,
  The rest began to fly in disarray.
  As if with what was his the vanquished fled,
  The cruel paynim, cheated of his prey,
  Ill bore that any, from the murderous strife
  Of that scared rabble, should escape with life.

  XLVIII
  As in the well-dried fen or stubble-land,
  Short time the stalk endures, or stridulous reed,
  Against the flames, which careful rustic's hand
  Scatters when Boreas blows the fires to feed;
  What time they take, and by the north-wind fanned.
  Crackle and snap, and through the furrow speed;
  No otherwise, with little profit, those
  King Mandricardo's kindled wrath oppose.

  XLIX
  When afterwards he marks the entrance free,
  Left ill-secured, and without sentinel.
  He, following prints (which had been recently
  Marked on the mead), proceeds, amid the swell
  Of loud laments, Granada's dame to see,
  If she as beauteous were as what they tell.
  He wound his way 'mid corpses, where the wave,
  Winding from side to side, a passage gave:

  L
  And in the middle of the mead surveyed
  Doralice (such the gentle lady's name),
  Who, at the root of an old ash tree laid,
  Bemoaned her: fast her lamentations came.
  And tears, like plenteous vein of water, strayed
  Into the beauteous bosom of the dame;
  Who, (so it from her lovely face appeared,)
  For others mourned, while for herself she feared.

  LI
  Her fear increased when she approaching spied
  Him foul with blood, and marked his felon cheer;
  And piercing shrieks the very sky divide
  Raised by herself and followers, in their fear.
  For over and above the troop who guide
  The fair infanta, squire and cavalier,
  Came ancient men and matrons in her train,
  And maids, the fairest of Granada's reign.

  LII
  When that fair face by him of Tartary
  Is seen, which has no paragon in Spain,
  Where amid tears (in laughter what were she?)
  Is twisted Love's inextricable chain.
  He knows not if in heaven or earth he be;
  Nor from his victory reaps other gain,
  Than yielding up himself a thrall to her,
  (He knows not why) who was his prisoner.

  LIII
  Yet not so far his courtesy he strained,
  That he would lose his labour's fruit, although
  The royal damsel showed, who sorely plained,
  Such grief as women in despair can show.
  He, who the hope within him entertained
  To turn to sovereign joy her present woe,
  Would wholly bear her off; whom having placed
  On a white jennet, he his way retraced.

  LIV
  He dames, maids, ancient men, and others, who
  Had from Granada with the damsel fared,
  Kindly dismissed, their journey to pursue;
  Saying, "My care suffices; I of guard,
  Of guide, of handmaid will the office do,
  To serve her in her every need prepared.
  Farewell!" and thus unable to withstand
  The wrong, with tears and sighs withdrew the band,

  LV
  Saying, "How woe-begone will be her sire,
  When he the miserable case shall hear!
  What grief will be the bridegroom's! what his ire!
  How dread the vengeance of that cavalier!
  When so the lady's needs such help require.
  Alas! and why is not the champion near,
  To save the illustrious blood of Stordilane,
  Ere the thief bears her farther hence, from stain?"

  LVI
  The Tartar, joying in the prize possest,
  Which he by chance and valour won and wore;
  To find the warrior of the sable vest
  Seemed not to have the haste he had before,
  And stopp'd and loitered, where he whilom prest;
  And cast about and studied evermore
  To find some fitting shelter; with desire,
  In quiet to exhale such amorous fire.

  LVII
  Doralice he consoled this while, whose eyes
  And cheek were wetted with the frequent tear,
  And many matters feigned and flattering lies;
  — How, known by fame, he long had held her dear,
  And how his country and glad realm, whose size
  Shamed others, praised for grandeur far and near,
  He quitted, not for sight of France or Spain;
  But to behold that cheek of lovely grain.

  LVIII
  "If a man merits love by loving, I
  Yours by my love deserve; if it is won
  By birth, — who boasts a genealogy
  Like me, the puissant Agricano's son?
  By riches, — who with me in wealth can vie.
  That in dominion yield to God alone?
  By courage, — I to-day (I ween) have proved
  That I for courage merit to be loved."

  LIX
  These words, and many others on his part,
  Love frames and dictates to the Tartar knight,
  Which sweetly tend to cheer the afflicted heart
  Of the unhappy maid, disturbed with fright.
  By these fear first was laid, and next the smart
  Sheathed of that woe, which had nigh pierced her sprite;
  And with more patience thence the maid began
  To hear, and her new lover's reasons scan.

  LX
  Next much more affable, with courteous lore
  Seasoning her answers to his suit, replies;
  Nor looking at the king, sometimes forbore
  To fix upon his face her pitying eyes.
  The paynim thence, whom Love had smote before,
  Not hopeful now, but certain, of his prize,
  Deemed that the lovely damsel would not still,
  As late, be found rebellious to his will.

  LXI
  Riding in her glad company a-field,
  Which so rejoiced his soul, so satisfied;
  And being near the time, when to their bield,
  Warned by the chilly night, all creatures hied,
  Seeing the sun now low and half concealed,
  The warrior 'gan in greater hurry ride;
  Until he heard reed-pipe and whistle sound,
  And next saw farm and cabin smoking round.

  LXII
  Pastoral lodgings were the dwellings near,
  Less formed for show, than for conveniency;
  And the young damsel and the cavalier
  The herdsman welcomed with such courtesy,
  That both were pleasured by his kindly cheer.
  For not alone dwells Hospitality
  In court and city; but ofttimes we find
  In loft and cottage men of gentle kind.

  LXIII
  What afterwards was done at close of day
  Between the damsel and the Tartar lord,
  I will not take upon myself to say;
  So leave to each, at pleasure, to award.
  But as they rose the following morn more gay,
  It would appear they were of fair accord:
  And on the swain who them such honour showed,
  Her thanks at parting Doralice bestowed.

  LXIV
  Thence from one place to the other wandering, they
  Find themselves by a river, as they go.
  Which to the sea in silence winds its way,
  And ill could be pronounced to stand or flow,
  So clear and limpid, that the cheerful day,
  With nought to intercept it, pierced below.
  Upon its bank, beneath a cooling shade,
  They found two warriors and a damsel laid.

  LXV
  Now lofty Fancy, which one course to run
  Permits not, calls me hence in sudden wise;
  And thither I return, where paynims stun
  Fair France with hosile din and angry cries,
  About the tent, wherein Troyano's son
  They holy empire in his wrath defies,
  And boastful Rodomont, with vengeful doom,
  Gives Paris to the flames, and levels Rome.

  LXVI
  Tidings had reached the Moorish sovereign's ear
  That the English had already passed the sea;
  And he bade Garbo's aged king appear,
  Marsilius, and his heads of chivalry:
  Who all advised the monarch to prepare
  For the assault of Paris. They may be
  Assured they in the storm will never thrive,
  Unless 'tis made before the aids arrive.

  LXVII
  Innumerable ladders for the scale
  Had been collected upon every hand,
  And plank and beam, and hurdle's twisted mail,
  For different uses, at the king's command;
  And bridge and boat; and, what might more avail
  Than all the rest, a first and second band
  For the assault (so bids the monarch) form;
  Who will himself go forth with them that storm.

  LXVIII
  The emperor, on the vigil of the day
  Of battle, within Paris, everywhere,
  By priest and friar of orders black and gray,
  And white, bade celebrate mass-rite and prayer;
  And those who had confessed, a fair array,
  And from the Stygian demons rescued were,
  Communicated in such fashions, all,
  As if they were the ensuing day to fall.

  LXIX
  At the high church, he, girt with paladine
  And preachers of the word, and barons brave,
  With much devotion at those acts divine
  Assisted, and a fair example gave;
  And there with folded hands and face supine,
  Exclaimed, "O Lord! although my sins be grave,
  Permit not, that, in this their utmost need,
  Thy people suffer for their king's misdeed!

  LXX
  "And if that they should suffer is thy will,
  And that they should due penance undergo,
  At least delay thy purpose to fulfil;
  So that thine enemies deal not the blow.
  For, when 'tis given him in his wrath to kill
  Us who are deemed thy friends, the paynim foe,
  That thou art without power to save, will cry,
  Because thou lett'st thy faithful people die:

  LXXI
  "And, for one faithless found, against thy sway
  A hundred shall throughout the world rebel;
  So that false Babel's law will have its way,
  And thus thy blessed faith put down and quell.
  Defend thy suffering people, who are they
  That purged thy tomb from heathen hounds and fell.
  And many times and oft, by foes offended,
  Thy holy church and vicars have defended.

  LXXII
  "That our deserts unfitting are to place
  I' the scale against our mighty debt, I know;
  Nor pardon can we hope, if we retrace
  Our sinful lives; but if thou shouldst bestow
  In aid, the gift of they redeeming grace,
  The account is quit and balanced, that we owe;
  Nor can we of thy succour, Lord, despair,
  While we in mind thy saving mercy bear."

  LXXIII
  So spake the holy emperor aloud,
  In humbleness of heart and deep contrition;
  And added other prayers withal, and vowed
  What fitted his great needs and high condition.
  Now was his supplication disallowed;
  For his good genius hears the king's petition,
  Best of the seraphs he; who spreads his wings,
  And to the Saviour's feet this offering brings.

  LXXIV
  Infinite other prayers as well preferred,
  Were, by like couriers, to the Godhead's ear
  So borne; which when the blessed spirits heard,
  They all together gazed, with pitying cheer,
  On their eternal, loving Lord, and, stirred
  With one desire, besought that he would hear
  The just petition, to his ears conveyed,
  Of this his Christian people, seeking aid.

  LXXV
  And the ineffable Goodness, who in vain
  Was never sought by faithful heart, an eye,
  Full of compassion, raised; and from the train
  Waved Michael, and to the arch-angel: "Hie,
  To seek the Christian host that crost the main,
  And lately furled their sails in Picardy:
  These so conduct to Paris, that their tramp
  And noise be heard not in the hostile camp.

  LXXVI
  "Find Silence first, and bid him, on my part,
  On this emprize attend thee, at thy side:
  Since he for such a quest, with happiest art
  Will know what is most fitting to provide.
  Next, where she sojourns, instantly impart
  To Discord my command, that she, supplied
  With steel and tinder, 'mid the paynims go,
  And fire and flame in their encampment blow;

  LXXVII
  "And throughout those among them, who are said
  To be the mightiest, spread such strife, that they
  Together may contend, and that some dead
  Remain, some hurt, some taken in the fray;
  And some to leave the camp, by wrath, be led;
  So that they yield their sovereign little stay."
  Nothing the blessed winged-one replies,
  But swoops descending from the starry skies.

  LXXVIII
  Where'er the angel Michael turns his wing,
  The clouds are scattered and the sky turns bright;
  About his person forms a golden ring,
  As we see summer lightning gleam at night.
  This while the courier of the heavenly king
  Thinks, on his way, where he may best alight,
  With the intent to find that foe to speech,
  To whom he first his high behest would teach.

  LXXIX
  Upon the thought the posting angel brooded,
  Where he, for whom he sought was used to dwell,
  Who after thinking much, at last concluded
  Him he should find in church or convent cell;
  Where social speech is in such mode excluded,
  That SILENCE, where the cloistered brethren swell
  Their anthems, where they sleep, and where they sit
  At meat; and everywhere in fine is writ.

  LXXX
  Weening that he shall find him here, he plies
  With greater speed his plumes of gilded scale,
  And deems as well that Peace, here guested, lies,
  And Charity and Quiet, without fail.
  But finds he is deceived in his surmise,
  As soon as he has past the cloister's pale.
  Here Silence is not; nor ('tis said) is found
  Longer, except in writing, on this ground.

  LXXXI
  Nor here he Love, nor here he Peace surveys,
  Piety, Quiet, or Humility.
  Here dwelt they once; but 'twas in ancient days;
  Chased hence by Avarice, Anger, Gluttony,
  Pride, Envy, Sloth, and Cruelty. In amaze
  The angel mused upon such novelty:
  He narrowly the hideous squadron eyed,
  And Discord too amid the rest espied;

  LXXXII
  Even her, to whom the eternal Sire as well,
  Having found Silence, bade him to repair.
  He had believed he to Avernus' cell,
  Where she was harboured with the damned, must fare,
  And now discerned her in this other hell
  (Who would believe it?) amid mass and prayer.
  Strange Michael thought to see her there enshrined,
  Whom he believed he must go far to find.

  LXXXIII
  Her by her party-coloured vest he knew.
  Unequal strips and many formed the gown,
  Which, opening with her walk, or wind that blew,
  Now showed, now hid her; for they were unsown.
  Her hair appeared to be at strife; in hue
  Like silver and like gold, and black and brown;
  Part in a tress, in riband part comprest,
  Some on her shoulders flowed, some on her breast.

  LXXXIV
  Examinations, summons, and a store
  Of writs and letters of attorney, she,
  And hearings, in her hands and bosom bore,
  And consultation, and authority:
  Weapons, from which the substance of the poor
  Can never safe in walled city be.
  Before, behind her, and about her, wait
  Attorney, notary, and advocate.

  LXXXV
  Her Michael calls to him, and give command
  That she among the strongest paynims go;
  And find occasion whence amid the band
  Warfare and memorable scathe may grow.
  He next from her of Silence makes demand,
  Who of his motions easily might know;
  As one who from one land to the other hied,
  Kindling and scattering fire on either side.

  LXXXVI
  "I recollect not ever to have viewed
  Him anywhere," quoth Discord in reply;
  "But oft have heard him mentioned, and for shrewd
  Greatly commended by the general cry:
  But Fraud, who makes one of this multitude,
  And who has sometimes kept him company,
  I think, can furnish news of him to thee,
  And" (pointing with her finger) "that is she."

  LXXXVII
  With pleasing mien, grave walk, and decent vest,
  Fraud rolled her eye-balls humbly in her head;
  And such benign and modest speech possest,
  She might a Gabriel seem who Ave said.
  Foul was she and deformed, in all the rest;
  But with a mantle long and widely spread,
  Concealed her hideous parts; and evermore
  Beneath the stole a poisoned dagger wore.

  LXXXVIII
  Of her the good archangel made demand
  What way in search of Silence to pursue:
  Who said; "He with the Virtues once was scanned
  Nor dwelt elsewhere; aye guested by the crew
  Of Benedict, or blest Elias' band,
  When abbeys and when convent-cells were new;
  And whilom in the schools long time did pass,
  With sage Archytas and Pythagorus.

  LXXXIX
  "But those philosophers and saints of yore
  Extinguished, who had been his former stay,
  From the good habits he had used before
  He passed to evil ones; began to stray,
  Changing his life, at night with lovers, bore
  Thieves company, and sinned in every way:
  He oftentimes consorts with Treason; further,
  I even have beheld him leagued with Murther.

  XC
  "With coiners him you oftentimes may see
  Harbour in some obscure and close repair.
  So oft he changes home and company,
  To light on him would be a fortune rare:
  Yet have I hope to point him out to thee;
  If to Sleep's house thou wilt at midnight fare,
  Him wilt thou surely find; for to repose
  At night he ever to that harbour goes."

  XCI
  Though Fraud was alway wont to deal in lies,
  So like the simple truth appears her say,
  The angel yields the tale belief; and flies
  Forth from the monastery without delay,
  Tempers his speed, and schemes withal in wise
  To finish at the appointed time his way,
  That at the house of Sleep (the mansion blind
  Full well he knew) this Silence he may find.

  XCII
  In blest Arabia lies a pleasant vale,
  Removed from village and from city's reach.
  By two fair hills o'ershadowed is the dale,
  And full of ancient fir and sturdy beech.
  Thither the circling sun without avail
  Conveys the cheerful daylight: for no breach
  The rays can make through boughs spread thickly round;
  And it is here a cave runs under ground.

  XCIII
  Beneath the shadow of this forest deep,
  Into the rock there runs a grotto wide.
  Here widely wandering, ivy-suckers creep,
  About the cavern's entrance multiplied.
  Harboured within this grot lies heavy Sleep,
  Ease, corpulent and gross, upon this side,
  Upon that, Sloth, on earth has made her seat;
  Who cannot go, and hardly keeps her feet.

  XCIV
  Mindless Oblivion at the gate is found,
  Who lets none enter, and agnizes none;
  Nor message hears or bears, and from that ground
  Without distinction chases every one;
  While Silence plays the scout and walks his round,
  Equipt with shoes of felt and mantle brown,
  And motions from a distance all who meet
  Him on his circuit, from the dim retreat.

  XCV
  The angel him approaches quietly,
  And, " 'Tis God's bidding" (whispers in his ear)
  "That thou Rinaldo and his company,
  Brought in his sovereign's aid, to Paris steer:
  But that thou do the deed so silently,
  That not a Saracen their cry shall hear;
  So that their army come upon the foe,
  Ere he from Fame of their arrival know."

  XCVI
  Silence to him no otherwise replied
  Than signing with his head that he obeyed:
  (And took his post behind the heavenly guide)
  Both at one flight to Picardy conveyed.
  The angel moved those bands of valour tried,
  And short to them a tedious distance made:
  Whom he to Paris safe transports; while none
  Is conscious that a miracle is done.

  XCVII
  Silence the advancing troop kept skirting round,
  In front, and flank, and rear of the array;
  Above the band he spread a mist profound,
  And everywhere beside 'twas lightsome day;
  Nor through the impeding fog the shrilling sound
  Of horn was heard, without, or trumpet's bray.
  He next the hostile paynims went to find,
  And with I know not what made deaf and blind.

  XCVIII
  While with such haste his band Rinaldo led,
  That him an angel well might seem to guide,
  And in such silence moved, that nought was said
  Or heard of this upon the paynim side;
  King Agramant his infantry had spread
  Throughout fair Paris' suburbs, and beside
  The foss, and underneath the walls; that day
  To make upon the place his worst assay.

  XCIX
  He who the Moorish monarch's force would tell,
  Which Charlemagne this day will have to meet,
  In wooded Apennine might count as well
  The trees upon its back, or waves that beat
  (What time the troubled waters highest swell)
  Against the Mauritanian Atlas' feet;
  Or watch at midnight with how many eyes
  The furtive works of lovers Heaven espies.

  C
  The larum-bells, loud-sounding through the air,
  Stricken with frequent blows, the town affray;
  And in the crowded temples every where
  Movement of lips and hands upraised to pray
  Are seen: if treasure seemed to God so fair
  As to our foolish thoughts, upon this day
  The holy consistory had bid mould
  Their every statue upon earth in gold.

  CI
  Lamenting may be heard the aged just,
  In that they were reserved for such a woe;
  Calling those happy that in sacred dust
  Were buried many and many a year ago.
  But the bold youths who, valiant and robust,
  Small thought upon the approaching ills bestow,
  Scorning their elders' counsel, here and there
  Hurrying, in fury, to the walls repair.

  CII
  Here might you paladin and baron ken,
  King, duke, and marquis, count and chivalry,
  And soldier, foreigner or citizen,
  Ready for honour and for Christ to die;
  Who, eager to assail the Saracen,
  On Charlemagne to lower the bridges cry.
  He witnesses with joy their martial beat,
  But to permit their sally deems not meet.

  CIII
  And them he ordered in convenient post,
  The advance of the barbarians to impede:
  For this would ill suffice a numerous host,
  To that he was content that few should speed.
  Some worked at the machines, some wild-fire tost,
  All ranged according to the separate need.
  Charles, never in one place, with restless care
  Provides defence and succour every where.

  CIV
  Paris is seated on a spacious plain,
  I' the midst — the heart of France, more justly say.
  A stream flows into it, and forth again;
  But first, the passing waters, as they stray,
  An island form, and so secure the main
  And better part, dividing on their way.
  The other two (three separate quarters note).
  Within the river girds, without the moat.

  CV
  The town, whose walls for miles in circuit run,
  Might well have been attacked from many a side;
  Yet, for he would assail it but on one,
  Nor willingly his scattered troops divide,
  Westward beyond the stream Troyano's son
  Retired, from thence the assailing bands to guide.
  In that, he neither city had nor plain
  Behind, but what was his, as far as Spain.

  CVI
  Where'er the walls of Paris wound about,
  Large ammunition had king Charles purveyed;
  Strengthening with dyke each quarter held in doubt;
  And had within trench, drain, and casemate made:
  And where the river entered and went out,
  Had thickest chains across the channel laid.
  But most of all, his prudent cares appear
  Where there is greatest cause for present fear.

  CVII
  With eyes of Argus, Pepin's valiant son,
  Where Agramant was bent to storm foresaw,
  And every thing forestalled, ere yet begun
  By the bold followers of Mahound's law.
  With Isolier, Grandonio, Falsiron,
  Serpentin, Balugantes, and Ferrau,
  And what beside he out of Spain had led,
  Marsilius was in arms, their valiant head.

  CVIII
  With old Sobrino, on the left of Seine,
  Pulian and Dardinel d'Almontes meet,
  With Oran's giant king, to swell the train:
  Six cubits is the prince, from head to feet.
  But why move I my pen with greater pain
  Than these men move their arms? for in his heat
  King Rodomont exclaims, blaspheming sore,
  Nor can contain his furious spirit more.

  CIX
  As swarming to assail the pastoral bowl,
  With sound of stridulous wing, through summer sky,
  Or relics of a feast, their luscious dole,
  Repair the ready numbers of the fly;
  As starlings to the vineyard's crimsoning pole
  With the ripe clusters charged, — heaven's concave high
  Filling, as they advanced, with noise and shout,
  Fast hurried to the storm the Moorish rout.

  CX
  Upon their walls the Christians in array,
  With lance, sword, axe, and wild-fire tost,
  The assaulted city guard without dismay,
  And little reck the proud barbarian's boast:
  Nor when death snatches this or that away,
  Does any one in fear refuse his post.
  Into the fosse below the paynim foes
  Return, amid a storm of strokes and blows.

  CXI
  Nor in this was is iron plied alone,
  But mighty masses and whole bulwarks fall,
  And top of tower, huge piece of bastion,
  And with much toil disrupted, solid wall;
  While streams of boiling water pouring down,
  Insufferably the advancing paynims gall:
  An ill-resisted rain, which, in despite
  Of helmet, makes its way, and blinds the sight.

  CXII
  And this than iron spear offended more:
  Then how much more the mist of lime-dust fine!
  Then how the emptied vessel, burning sore
  With nitre, sulphur, pitch, and turpentine!
  Nor idle lie the fiery hoops in store,
  Which, wreathed about with flaming tresses, shine.
  These at the foemen scaled, upon all hands,
  Form cruel garlands for the paynim bands.

  CXIII
  Meanwhile, up to the walls the second crew
  Fierce Sarza's king was driven, accompanied
  By bold Orlando and Buraldo, who
  The Garamantes and Marmonda guide;
  Clarindo and Loridano; nor from view,
  It seems, will Setta's valiant monarch hide:
  Morocco's king and he of Cosco go
  With these, that men their martial worth may know.

  CXIV
  With crimson Rodomont his banner stains,
  And in the vermeil field a lion shows;
  Who, bitted by a maid, to curb and reins
  His savage mouth disdains not to unclose.
  Himself in the submissive lion feigns
  The haughty Rodomont, and would suppose
  In her who curbs him with the bit and string,
  Doralice, daughter to Grenada's king;

  CXV
  Whom Mandricardo took, as I before
  Related, and from whom, and in what wise.
  Even she it was, whom Sarza's monarch more
  Loved than his realm, — beyond his very eyes:
  And valour showed for her and courteous lore,
  Not knowing yet she was another's prize.
  If he had, — then, — then, first, — the story known,
  Even what he did that day, he would have done.

  CXVI
  At once the foes a thousand ladders rear.
  Against the wall by the assailants shored,
  Two mannered each round; the second, in the rear,
  Urged on by the first; the third the second gored.
  One mounts the wall through valour, one through fear,
  And all attempt perforce the dangerous ford;
  For cruel Rodomont of Argier slays
  Or smites the wretched laggard who delays.

  CXVII
  'Tis thus, 'mid fire and ruin, all assay
  To mount the wall; but others to assure
  Themselves, some safer passage seek, where they
  Will have least pain and peril to endure.
  Rodomont only scorns by any way
  To wend, except by what is least secure;
  And in that desperate case, where others made
  Their offerings, cursed the god to whom they prayed.

  CXVIII
  He in a cuirass, hard and strong, was drest;
  A dragon-skin it was with scaly quilt,
  Which erst secured the manly back and breast
  Of his bold ancestor, that Babel built;
  Who hoped the rule of heaven from God to wrest,
  And him would from his golden dome have split.
  Perfect, and for this end alone, were made
  Helmet and shield as well as trenchant blade.

  CXIX
  Nor Rodomont to Nimrod yields in might,
  Proud and untamed; and who would not forbear
  To scale the lofty firmament till night,
  Could he in this wide world descry the stair.
  He stood not, he, to mark the bulwark's plight
  Nor if the fosse of certain bottom were.
  He past, ran, — rather flew across the moat,
  Plunging in filth and water to his throat.

  CXX
  Dripping and foul with water and with weeds,
  'Mid fire and stone, and arbalests, and bows,
  On drives the chief; as through the marshy reeds,
  The wild-swine of our own Mallea goes;
  Who makes large day-light wheresoe'er he speeds,
  Parting the sedge with breast and tusk and nose.
  The paynim, safe in buckler lifted high,
  Scorns not the wall alone, but braves the sky.

  CXXI
  Rodomont has no sooner gained the shore,
  Than on the wooden bartizan he stands,
  Within the city walls, a bridge that bore
  (Roomy and large) king Charles's Christian bands.
  Here many a scull is riven, here men take more
  Than monkish tonsure at the warrior's hands:
  Heads fly and arms; and to the ditch a flood
  Runs streaming from the wall of crimson blood.

  CXXII
  He drops the shield; and with two-handed sway
  Wielding his sword, duke Arnulph he offends.
  Who came from whence, into the briny bay,
  The water of the rapid Rhine descends.
  No better than the sulphur keeps away
  The advancing flame, the wretch his life defends.
  He his last shudder gives, and tumbles dead;
  Cleft downwards, a full palm from neck and head.

  CXXIII
  At one back-stroke sir Spineloccio true,
  Anselmo, Prando, and Oldrado fell;
  The narrow place and thickly-swarming crew
  Make the wide-circling blow so fully tell.
  The first half Flemings were, the residue
  Are Normans, who the list of slaughter swell.
  Orghetto of Maganza, he from brow
  To breast divides, and thence to paunch below.

  CXXIV
  Down from the wall Andropono and Moschine
  He cast into the ditch: a priest the first;
  The second, but a worshipper of wine,
  Drained, at a draught, whole runlets in his thirst;
  Aye wonted simple water to decline,
  Like viper's blood or venom: now immersed
  In this, he perishes amid that slaughter;
  And, what breeds most affliction, dies by water.

  CXXV
  Lewis the Provencal is cleft in two;
  Arnold of Thoulouse through the breast before;
  Hubert of Tours, sir Dionysius, Hugh,
  And Claud, pour forth their ghosts in reeking gore.
  Odo, Ambaldo, Satallon ensue,
  And Walter next; of Paris are the four —
  With others, that by me unmentioned fall,
  Who cannot tell the name and land of all.

  CXXVI
  The crowd, by Rodomont of Sarza led,
  The ladders lift, and many places scale.
  Here the Parisians make no further head,
  Who find their first defense of small avail
  Full well they know that danger more to dread
  Within awaits the foemen who assail;
  Because between the wall and second mound
  A fosse descends, wide, horrid, and profound.

  CXXVII
  Besides, that ours, with those upon the height,
  War from below, like valiant men and stout,
  New files succeed to those who fall in fight,
  Where, on the interior summit, stand the rout,
  Who gall with lances, and a whistling flight
  Of darts, the mighty multitude without;
  Many of whom, I ween, that post would shun,
  If it were not for royal Ulien's son.

  CXXVIII
  But he still heartened some, and chid the rest,
  And forced them forward to their sore alarm.
  One paynim's head he cleft, and other's breast,
  Who turned about to fly; and of the swarm
  Some shoved and pushed and to the encounter prest,
  Close-grappled by the collar, hair, or arm:
  And downwards from the wall such numbers threw,
  The ditch was all to narrow for the crew.

  CXXIX
  While so the foes descend, or rather fling
  Themselves into the perilous profound;
  And thence by many ladders try to spring
  Upon the summit of the second mound,
  King Rodomont, as if he had a wing
  Upon his every member, from the ground
  Upraised his weight, and vaulted clean across,
  Loaded with all his arms, the yawning fosse.

  CXXX
  The moat of thirty feet, not less, he cleared,
  As dexterously as leaps the greyhound fleet,
  Nor at his lighting louder noise was heard
  Than if he had worn felt beneath his feet.
  He now of this, now that, the mantle sheared;
  As though of pewter, not of iron beat,
  Or rather of soft rind their arms had been:
  So matchless was his force and sword so keen!

  CXXXI
  This while, not idle, those of ours had laid
  Snares in the inner moat, a well-charged mine:
  Where broom and thick fascines, all over paid
  With swarthy pitch, in plenty intertwine.
  Though they from bank to bank that hollow line,
  Filling the bottom well-nigh to the brink;
  And countless vessels the defenders sink.

  CXXXII
  Charged with salt-petre, oil, or sulphur pale,
  One and the other, or with such like gear;
  While ours, intent the paynims that assail
  The town, should pay their daring folly dear,
  (Who from the ditch on different parts would scale
  The inner bulwark's platform) when they hear
  The appointed signal which their comrades raise,
  Set, at fit points, the wildfire in a blaze.

  CXXXIII
  For that the moat was full from side to side,
  The scattered flames united into one,
  And mounted to such height, they well-nigh dried
  The watery bosom of the moon; a dun
  And dismal cloud above extending wide,
  Dimmed every glimpse of light, and hid the sun:
  A fearful crash, with a continued sound,
  Like a long peal of thunder, shook the ground.

  CXXXIV
  A horrid concert, a rude harmony
  Of deep lament, and yell and shriek, which came
  From those poor wretches in extremity,
  Perishing through their furious leader's blame,
  Was heard, as in strange concord, to agree
  With the fierce crackling of the murderous flame.
  No more of this, no more! — Here, sir, I close
  My canto, hoarse, and needing short repose.

CANTO 15

  ARGUMENT
  Round about Paris every where are spread
  The assailing hosts of Africa and Spain.
  Astolpho home by Logistilla sped,
  Binds first Caligorantes with his chain;
  Next from Orrilo's trunk divides the head;
  With whom Sir Aquilant had warred in vain,
  And Gryphon bold: next Sansonet discerns,
  Ill tidings of his lady Gryphon learns.

  I
  Though Conquest fruit of skill or fortune be,
  To conquer always is a glorious thing.
  'Tis true, indeed, a bloody victory
  Is to a chief less honour wont to bring;
  And that fair field is famed eternally,
  And he who wins it merits worshipping,
  Who, saving from all harm his own, without
  Loss to his followers, puts the foe to rout.

  II
  You, sir, earned worthy praise, when you o'erbore
  The lion of such might by sea, and so
  Did by him, where he guarded either shore
  From Francolino to the mouth of Po,
  That I, though yet again I heard him roar,
  If you were present, should my fear forego.
  How fields are fitly won was then made plain;
  For we were rescued, and your foemen slain.

  III
  This was the Paynim little skilled to do,
  Who was but daring to his proper loss;
  And to the moat impelled his meiny, who
  One and all perished in the burning fosse.
  The mighty gulf had not contained the crew,
  But that, devouring those who sought to cross,
  Them into dust the flame reduced, that room
  Might be for all within the crowded tomb.

  IV
  Of twenty thousand warriors thither sent,
  Died nineteen thousand in the fiery pit;
  Who to the fosse descended, ill content;
  But so their leader willed, of little wit:
  Extinguished amid such a blaze, and spent
  By the devouring flame the Christians lit.
  And Rodomont, occasion of their woes,
  Exempted from the mighty mischief goes:

  V
  For he to the inner bank, by foes possest,
  Across the ditch had vaulted wonderously:
  Had he within it been, among the rest,
  It sure had been his last assault. His eye
  He turns, and when the wild-fires, which infest
  The infernal vale, he sees ascend so high,
  And hears his people's moan and dying screams,
  With imprecations dread he Heaven blasphemes.

  VI
  This while a band King Agramant had brought,
  To make a fierce assault upon a gate:
  For while the cruel battle here was fought,
  Wherein so many sufferers met their fate,
  This haply unprovided had he thought
  With fitting guard. Upon the monarch wait
  King Bambirago, 'mid his knights of price,
  And Baliverso, sink of every vice.

  VII
  And Corineus of Mulga, Prusion,
  The wealthy monarch of the blessed isles;
  Malabuferzo, he who fills the throne
  Of Fez, where a perpetual summer smiles;
  And other noble lords, and many a one
  Well-armed and tried; and others 'mid their files,
  Naked, and base, whose hearts in martial fields
  Had found no shelter from a thousand shields.

  VIII
  But all things counter to the hopes ensue
  Of Agramant upon his side; within,
  In person, girded by a gallant crew,
  Is Charlemagne, with many a paladin:
  Ogier the Duke, King Salamon, the two
  Guidos are seen, and either Angelin;
  Bavaria's duke, and Ganelon are here,
  Avino, Avolio, Otho, and Berlinghier.

  IX
  And of inferior count withal, a horde
  Of Lombards, French, and Germans, without end;
  Who, every one, in presence of his lord,
  To rank among the valiantest contend,
  This will I in another place record;
  Who here a mighty duke perforce attend,
  Who signs to me from far, and prays that I
  Will not omit him in my history.

  X
  'Tis time that I should measure back my way
  Thither, where I Astolpho left of yore;
  Who, in long exile, loathing more to stay,
  Burnt with desire to tread his native shore;
  As hopes to him had given the sober fay,
  Who quelled Alcina by her better lore,
  She with all care would send the warrior back
  By the securest and the freest track.

  XI
  And thus by her a barque is fitted out;
  — A better galley never ploughed the sea;
  And Logistilla wills, for aye in doubt
  Of hinderance from Alcina's treachery,
  That good Andronica, with squadron stout,
  And chaste Sophrosina, with him shall be,
  Till to the Arabian Sea, beneath their care,
  Or to the Persian Gulf he safe repair.

  XII
  By Scyth and Indian she prefers the peer
  Should coast, and by the Nabataean reign;
  Content he, after such a round, should veer
  For Persian gulf, or Erithraean main,
  Rather than for that Boreal palace steer,
  Where angry winds aye vex the rude domain:
  So ill, at seasons, favoured by the sun,
  That there, for months together, light is none.

  XIII
  Next, when she all in readiness espied,
  Her license to depart the prudent fay
  Accorded to the duke, first fortified
  With counsel as to things too long to say;
  And that he might no more by charms be stayed
  In place from whence he could not wend his way,
  Him with a useful book and fair purveyed,
  And ever for her love to wear it prayed.

  XIV
  How man should guard himself from magic cheats
  The book instructed, which the fay bestowed;
  At the end or the beginning, where it treats
  Of such, an index and appendix showed.
  Another gift, which in its goodly feats
  All other gifts excelled, to her he owed;
  This was a horn, which made whatever wight
  Should hear its clang betake himself to flight.

  XV
  I say, the horn is of such horrid sound,
  That, wheresoe'er 'tis heard, all fly for fear;
  Nor in the world is one of heart so sound
  That would not fly, should he the bugle hear.
  Wind, thunder, and the shock which rives the ground,
  Come not, in aught, the hideous clangour near.
  With thanks did the good Englishman receive
  The gift, and of the fairy took his leave.

  XVI
  Quitting the port and smoother waves, they stand
  To sea, with favouring wind which blows astern;
  And (coasting) round the rich and populous land
  Of odoriferous Ind the vessels turn,
  Opening a thousand isles on either hand,
  Scattered about that sea, till they discern
  The land of Thomas; here the pilot veers
  His ready tiller, and more northward steers.

  XVII
  Astolpho, furrowing that ocean hoar,
  Marks, as he coasts, the wealthy land at ease.
  Ganges amid the whitening waters roar,
  Nigh skirting now the golden Chersonese;
  Taprobana with Cori next, and sees
  The frith which chafes against its double shore;
  Makes distant Cochin, and with favouring wind
  Issues beyond the boundaries of Ind.

  XVIII
  Scouring at large broad ocean, with a guide
  So faithful and secure, the cavalier
  Questions Andronica, if from that side
  Named from the westering sun, of this our sphere,
  Bark, which with oars or canvas stemmed the tide,
  On eastern sea was wonted to appear;
  — And could a wight, who loosed from Indian strand,
  Reach France or Britain, without touching land.

  XIX
  Andronica to England's duke replies:
  "Know that this earth is girt about with seas,
  And all to one another yield supplies,
  Whether the circling waters boil or freeze:
  But, since the Aethiops' land before us lies,
  Extending southward many long degrees.
  Across his waters, some one has supposed
  A barrier here to Neptune interposed.

  XX
  "Hence bark from this Levant of Ind is none
  Which weighs, to shape her course for Europe's shore;
  Nor navigates from Europe any one,
  Our Oriental regions to explore;
  Fain to retrace alike the course begun
  By the mid land, extending wide before:
  Weening (its limits of such length appear)
  That it must join another hemisphere.

  XXI
  "But in the course of circling years I view
  From farthest lands which catch the western ray,
  New Argonauts put forth, and Tiphys new
  Opening, till now an undiscovered way.
  Others I see coast Afric, and pursue
  So far the negroes' burning shore, that they
  Pass the far sign, from whence, on his return,
  The sun moves hither, leaving Capricorn;

  XXII
  "And find the limit of this length of land,
  Which makes a single sea appear as two;
  Who, scouring in their frigates every strand,
  Pass Ind and Arab isles, or Persian through:
  Others I see who leave, on either hand,
  The banks, which stout Alcides cleft in two,
  And in the manner of the circling sun,
  To seek new lands and new creations run.

  XXIII
  "The imperial flags and holy cross I know,
  Fixed on the verdant shore; see some upon
  The shattered barks keep guard, and others go
  A-field, by whom new countries will be won;
  Ten chase a thousand of the flying foe,
  Realms beyond Ind subdued by Arragon;
  And see all, wheresoe'er the warriors wend,
  To the fifth Charles' triumphant captains bend.

  XXIV
  "That this way should be hidden was God's will
  Of old, and ere 'twas known long time should run;
  Nor will he suffer its discovery, till
  The sixth and seventh century be done.
  And he delays his purpose to fulfil,
  In that he would subject the world to one,
  The justest and most fraught with prudent lore
  Or emperors, since Augustus, or before.

  XXV
  "Of Arragon and Austria's blood I see
  On the left bank of Rhine a monarch bred;
  No sovereign is so famed in history,
  Of all whose goodly deeds are heard or read.
  Astraea reinthroned by him will be, —
  Rather restored to life, long seeming dead;
  And Virtues with her into exile sent,
  By him shall be recalled from banishment.

  XXVI
  "For such desert, Heaven's bounty not alone
  Designs he should the imperial garland bear, —
  Augustus', Trajan's, Mark's, Severus', crown;
  But that of every farthest land should wear,
  Which here and there extends, as yet unknown,
  Yielding no passage to the sun and year;
  And wills that in his time Christ's scattered sheep
  Should be one flock, beneath one Shepherd's keep.

  XXVII
  "And that this be accomplished with more ease,
  Writ in the skies from all eternity,
  Captains, invincible by lands and seas,
  Shall heavenly Providence to him supply.
  I mark Hernando Cortez bring, 'mid these,
  New cities under Caesar's dynasty,
  And kingdoms in the Orient so remote,
  That we of these in India have no note.

  XXVIII
  "With Prospero Colonna, puissant peer,
  A marquis of Pescara I behold; —
  A youth of Guasto next, who render dear
  Hesperia to the flower-de-luce of gold;
  I see prepared to enter the career
  This third, who shall the laurel win and hold;
  As a good horse before the rest will dart,
  And first attain the goal, though last to start.

  XXIX
  "I see such faith, such valour in the deeds
  Of young Alphonso (such his name) confest,
  He in his unripe age, — nor he exceeds
  His sixth and twentieth year, — at Caesar's hest,
  (A mighty trust) the imperial army leads:
  Saving which, Caesar not alone the rest
  Of his fair empire saves, but may the world
  Reduce, with ensigns by this chief unfurled.

  XXX
  "As with these captains, where the way by land
  Is free, he spreads the ancient empire's sway,
  So on the sea, which severs Europe's strand
  From Afric, open to the southern day,
  When with good Doria linked in friendly band,
  Victorious he shall prove in every fray.
  This is that Andrew Doria who will sweep
  From pirates, on all sides, your midland deep.

  XXXI
  "Pompey, though he chased rovers everywhere,
  Was not his peer; for ill the thievish brood
  Vanquished by him, in puissance, could compare
  With the most mighty realm that ever stood.
  But Doria singly will of the corsair
  With his own forces purge the briny flood:
  So that I see each continent and isle
  Quake at his name, from Calpe to the Nile.

  XXXII
  "Beneath the faith, beneath the warrantry
  Of the redoubted chief, of whom I say,
  I see Charles enter fertile Italy,
  To which this captain clears the monarch's way;
  But on his country, not himself, that fee
  Shall he bestow, which is his labour's pay;
  And beg her freedom, where himself perchance
  Another would to sovereign rule advance.

  XXXIII
  "The pious love he bears his native land
  Honours him more than any battle's gain
  Which Julius ever won on Afric's strand,
  Or in thine isle, France, Thessaly, or Spain.
  Nor great Octavius does more praise command,
  Nor Anthony who jousted for the reign,
  With equal arms: in that the wrong outweighs
  — Done to their native land — their every praise.

  XXXIV
  "Let these, and every other wight who tries
  To subject a free country, blush for shame,
  Nor dare in face of man to lift his eyes,
  Where he hears Andrew Doria's honoured name!
  To him I see Charles other meed supplies;
  For he beside his leaders' common claim,
  Bestows upon the chief the sumptuous state,
  Whence Norman bands their power in Puglia date.

  XXXV
  "Not only to this captain courtesy
  Shall Charles display, still liberal of his store;
  But to all those who for the empery
  In his emprizes have not spared their gore.
  Him to bestow a town, — a realm — I see,
  Upon a faithful friend, rejoicing more,
  And on all such as have good service done,
  Than in new kingdom and new empire won."

  XXXVI
  Thus of the victories, by land and main,
  Which, when long course of years shall be complete,
  Charles' worthy captains for their lord will gain,
  Andronica did with Astolpho treat.
  This while, now loosening, tightening now, the rein
  On the eastern winds, which blow upon their feet,
  Making this serve or that, her comrade stands;
  While the blasts rise or sink as she commands.

  XXXVII
  This while they saw, as for their port they made,
  How wide the Persian sea extends to sight;
  Whence in few days the squadron was conveyed
  Nigh the famed gulf from ancient Magi hight;
  Here they found harbourage; and here were stayed
  Their wandering barks, which stern to shore were dight.
  Secure from danger from Alcina's wrath,
  The duke by land continued hence his path.

  XXXVIII
  He pricks through many a field and forest blind,
  By many a vale and many a mountain gray;
  Where robbers, now before and now behind,
  Oft threat the peer by night or open day;
  Lion and dragon oft of poisonous kind,
  And other savage monsters cross his way:
  But he no sooner has his bugle wound,
  Than these are scared and scattered by the sound.