Orlando Furioso Part 67

x.x.xVI "If he, as you relate, be of such force, That he surprises all beside in might, I needs must pay the hire as well as horse; And be this at the pleasure of the knight!

That I am Rodomont, to him discourse; And, if indeed with me he lists to fight, Me shall to find; in that I s.h.i.+ne confest, By my own light, in motion or at rest.

x.x.xVII "I leave such vestige wheresoe'er I tread, The volleyed thunder leaves not worse below."

He had thrown back, over Frontino's head, The courser's gilded reins, in saying so, Backed him, and left Hippalca sore bested; Who, bathed in tears, and goaded by her woe, Cries shame on him, and threats the king with ill: Rodomont hearkens not, and climbs the hill:

x.x.xVIII Whither the dwarf conducts him on the trace Of Doralice and Mandricardo bold.

Behind, Hippalca him in ceaseless chase, Pursues with taunt and curses manifold.

What came of this is said in other place.

Turpin, by whom this history is told, Here makes digression, and returns again Thither, where faithless Pinnabel was slain.

x.x.xIX Duke Aymon's daughter scarce had turned away From thence, who on her track in haste had gone, Ere thither by another path, astray, Zerbino came, with that deceitful crone, And saw the bleeding body where it lay: And, though the warrior was to him unknown, As good and courteous, felt his bosom swell, With pity at that cruel sight and fell.

XL Dead lay Sir Pinnabel, and bathed in gore; From whom such streams of blood profusely flow, As were a cause for wonderment, had more Swords than a hundred joined to lay him low.

A print of recent footsteps to explore The cavalier of Scotland was not slow; Who took the adventure, in the hope to read Who was the doer of the murderous deed.

XLI The hag to wait was ordered by the peer, Who would return to her in little s.p.a.ce.

She to the body of the count drew near, And with fixt eye examined every place; Who willed not aught, that in her sight was dear, The body of the dead should vainly grace; As one who, soiled with every other vice, Surpa.s.sed all womankind in avarice.

XLII If she in any manner could have thought, Or hoped to have concealed the intended theft, The bleeding warrior's surcoat, richly wrought, She would, together with his arms, have reft; But at what might be safely hidden, caught, And, grieved at heart, forewent the glorious weft.

Him of a beauteous girdle she undrest, And this secured between a double vest.

XLIII Zerbino after some short s.p.a.ce came back, Who vainly Bradamant had thence pursued Through the green holt; because the beaten track Was lost in many others in the wood; And he (for daylight now began to lack) Feared night should catch him 'mid those mountains rude, And with the impious woman thence, in quest Of inn, from the disastrous valley prest.

XLIV A s.p.a.cious town, which Altaripa hight, Journeying the twain, at two miles' distance spy: There stopt the pair, and halted for the night, Which, at full soar, even now went up the sky: Nor long had rested there ere, left and right, They from the people heard a mournful cry; And saw fast tears from every eyelid fall, As if some cause of sorrow touched them all.

XLV Zerbino asked the occasion, and 'twas said Tidings had been to Count Anselmo brought, That Pinnabel, his son, was lying dead In a streight way between two mountains wrought.

Zerbino feigned surprise, and hung his head, In fear lest he the a.s.sa.s.sin should be thought; But well divined this was the wight he found Upon his journey, lifeless on the ground.

XLVI After some little time, the funeral bier Arrives, 'mid torch and flambeau, where the cries Are yet more thick, and to the starry sphere Lament and noise of smitten hands arise; And faster and from fuller vein the tear Waters all cheeks, descending from the eyes; But in a cloud more dismal than the rest, Is the unhappy father's visage drest.

XLVII While solemn preparation so was made For the grand obsequies, with reverence due, According to old use and honours paid, In former age, corrupted by each new; A proclamation of their lord allayed Quickly the noise of the lamenting crew; Promising any one a mighty gain That should denounce by whom his son was slain.

XLVIII From voice to voice, from one to other ear, The loud proclaim they through the town declare; Till this the wicked woman chanced to hear, Who past in rage the tyger or the bear; And hence the ruin of the Scottish peer, Either in hatred, would the crone prepare, Or were it she alone might boast to be, In human form, without humanity;

XLIX Or were it but to gain the promised prize; -- She to seek out the grieving county flew, And, prefacing her tale in likely wise, Said that Zerbino did the deed; and drew The girdle forth, to witness to her lies; Which straight the miserable father knew; And on the woman's tale and token built A clear a.s.surance of Zerbino's guilt.

L And, weeping, with raised hands, was heard to say, He for his murdered son would have amends.

To block the hostel where Zerbino lay, For all the town is risen, the father sends.

The prince, who deems his enemies away, And no such injury as this attends, In his first sleep is seized by Anselm's throng, Who thinks he has endured so foul a wrong.

LI That night in prison, fettered with a pair Of heavy letters, is Zerbino chained.

For before yet the skies illuminated are, The wrongful execution is ordained; And in the place will he be quartered, where The deed was done for which he is arraigned.

No other inquest is on this received; It is enough that so their lord believed.

LII When, the next morn, Aurora stains with dye Red, white, and yellow, the clear horizon, The people rise, to punish ("Death!" their cry) Zerbino for the crime he has not done: They without order him accompany, A lawless mult.i.tude, some ride, some run.

I' the midst the Scottish prince, with drooping head, Is, bound upon a little hackney, led.

LIII But HE who with the innocent oft sides, Nor those abandons who make him their stay, For prince Zerbino such defence provides, There is no fear that he will die to-day; G.o.d thitherward renowned Orlando guides; Whose coming for his safety paves the way: Orlando sees beneath him on a plain The youth to death conducted by the train.

LIV With him was wended she, that in the cell, Prisoned, Orlando found; that royal maid, Child of Gallicia's king, fair Isabel, Whom chance into the ruffians' power conveyed, What time her s.h.i.+p she quitted, by the swell Of the wild sea and tempest overlaid: The damsel, who, yet nearer her heart-core Than her own vital being, Zerbino wore.

LV She had beneath Orlando's convoy strayed, Since rescued from the cave. When on the plain The damsel saw the motley troop arrayed, She asked Orlando what might be the train?

"I know not," said the Count; and left the maid Upon the height, and hurried towards the plain.

He marked Zerbino, and at the first sight A baron of high worth esteemed the knight,

LVI And asked him why and wherefore him they led Thus captive, to Zerbino drawing near: At this the doleful prince upraised his head, And, having better heard the cavalier, Rehea.r.s.ed the truth; and this so well he said, That he deserved the succour of the peer.

Well Sir Orlando him, by his reply, Deemed innocent, and wrongly doomed to die.

LVII And, after he had heard 'twas at the hest Of Anselm, Count of Altaripa, done, Was certain 'twas and outrage manifest, Since nought but ill could spring from him; and one, Moreover, was the other's foe profest, From ancient hate and enmity, which run In Clermont and Maganza's blood; a feud With injuries, and death and shame pursued.

LVIII Orlando to the rabble cried, "Untie The cavalier, unless you would be slain."

-- "Who deals such mighty blows?" -- one made reply, That would be thought the truest of the train; "Were he of fire who makes such bold defy, We wax or straw, too haughty were the strain": And charged with that the paladin of France.

Orlando at the losel couched his lance.

LIX The s.h.i.+ning armour which the chief had rent From young Zerbino but the night before, And clothed himself withal, poor succour lent Against Orlando in that combat sore.

Against the churl's right cheek the weapon went: It failed indeed his tempered helm to bore, But such a shock he suffered in the strife, As broke his neck, and stretched him void of life.

LX All at one course, of other of the band, With lance unmoved, he pierced the bosom through; Left it; on Durindana laid his hand, And broke into the thicket of the crew: One head in twain he severed with the brand, (While, from the shoulders lopt, another flew) Of many pierced the throat; and in a breath Above a hundred broke and put to death.

LXI Above a third he killed, and chased the rest, And smote, and pierced, and cleft, as he pursued.

Himself of helm or s.h.i.+eld one dispossest; One with spontoon or bill the champaign strewed This one along the road, across it prest A fourth; this squats in cavern or in wood.

Orlando, without pity, on that day Lets none escape whom he has power to slay.

LXII Of a hundred men and twenty, in that crew, (So Turpin sums them) eighty died at least.

Thither Orlando finally withdrew, Where, with a heart sore trembling in his breast, Zerbino sat; how he at Roland's view Rejoiced, in verse can hardly be exprest: Who, but that he was on the hackney bound, Would at his feet have cast himself to ground.

LXIII While Roland, after he had loosed the knight, Helped him to don his s.h.i.+ning arms again; Stript from those serjeants' captain, who had dight Himself with the good harness, to his pain; The prince on Isabella turned his sight, Who had halted on the hill above the plain: And, after she perceived the strife was o'er, Nearer the field of fight her beauties bore.

LXIV When young Zerbino at his side surveyed The lady, who by him was held so dear; The beauteous lady, whom false tongue had said Was drowned, so often wept with many a tear, As if ice at his heart-core had been laid, Waxed cold, and some deal shook the cavalier; But the chill quickly past, and he, instead, Was flushed with amorous fire, from foot to head.

LXV From quickly clipping her in his embrace, Him reverence for Anglantes' sovereign stayed; Because he thought, and held for certain case, That Roland was a lover of the maid; So past from pain to pain; and little s.p.a.ce Endured the joy which he at first a.s.sayed.

And worse he bore she should another's be, Than hearing that the maid was drowned at sea.

LXVI And worse he grieved, that she was with a knight To whom he owed so much: because to wrest The lady from his hand, was neither right, Nor yet perhaps would prove an easy quest.

He, without quarrel, had no other wight Suffered to part, of such a prize possest; But would endure, Orlando (such his debt) A foot upon his prostrate neck should set.

LXVII The three in silence journey to a font, Where they alight, and halt beside the well; His helmet here undid the weary Count, And made the prince too quit the iron sh.e.l.l.

The youth unhelmed, she sees her lover's front, And pale with sudden joy grows Isabel: Then, changing, brightened like a humid flower, When the warm sun succeeds to drenching shower.

LXVIII And without more delay or scruple, prest To cast her arms about her lover dear; And not a word could draw-forth from her breast, But bathed his neck and face with briny tear.

Orlando, who remarked the love exprest, Needing no more to make the matter clear, Could not but, by these certain tokens, see The could no other but Zerbino be.

LXIX When speech returned, ere yet the maiden well Had dried her cheeks from the descending tear, She only of the courtesy could tell Late shown her by Anglantes' cavalier.

The prince, who in one scale weighed Isabel, Together with his life, esteemed as dear, -- Fell at Orlando's feet and him adored, As to two lives at once by him restored.

LXX Proffers and thanks had followed, with a round Of courtesies between the warlike pair, Had they not heard the covered paths resound, Which overgrown with gloomy foliage were.

Upon their heads the helmet, late unbound, They quickly place, and to their steeds repair; And, lo! a knight and maid arrive, ere well The cavaliers are seated in the sell.

LXXI This was the Tartar Mandricardo, who In haste behind the paladin had sped, To venge Alzirdo and Manilard, the two Whom good Orlando's valour had laid dead: Though afterwards less eager to pursue, Since he with him fair Doralice had led; Whom from a hundred men, in plate and chain, He, with a single staff of oak, had ta'en.