Canto 46

ARGUMENT
  After long search for good Rogero made,
  Him Leon finds, and yields to him his prize:
  Informed of all — already with that maid
  He wives; already in her bosom lies:
  When thither he that Sarza's sceptre swayed
  To infect such bliss with impious venom hies,
  But falls in combat; and, blaspheming loud,
  To Acheron descends his spirit proud.

  I
  I, if my chart deceives me not, shall now
  In little time behold the neighbouring shore;
  So hope withal to pay my promised vow
  To one, so long my guide through that wide roar
  Of waters, where I feared, with troubled brow,
  To scathe my bark or wander evermore.
  But now, methinks — yea, now I see the land;
  I see the friendly port its arms expand.

  II
  A burst of joy, like thunder to my ear,
  Rumbles along the sea and rends the sky.
  I chiming bells, I shrilling trumpets hear,
  Confounded with the people's cheerful cry;
  And now their forms, that swarm on either pier
  Of the thick-crowded harbour, I descry.
  All seem rejoiced my task is smoothly done,
  And I so long a course have safely run.

  III
  What beauteous dames and sage, here welcome me!
  With them what cavaliers the shore adorn!
  What friends! to whom I owe eternity
  Of thanks for their delight at my return.
  Mamma, Ginevra, with the rest I see,
  Correggio's seed, on the harbour's furthest horn.
  Veronica de Gambara is here,
  To Phoebus and the Aonian choir so dear.

  IV
  With Julia, a new Ginevra is in sight,
  Another offset from the selfsame tree;
  Hippolita Sforza, and Trivultia bright,
  Bred in the sacred cavern, I with thee
  Emilia Pia, and thee, Margherite,
  Angela Borgia, Graziosa, see,
  And fair Richarda d'Este, Lo! the twain,
  Blanche and Diana, with their sister train!

  V
  Beauteous, but wiser and more chaste than fair,
  I Barbara Turca, linked with Laura, know:
  Nor beams the sun upon a better pair
  'Twixt Ind and where the Moorish waters flow.
  Behold Ginevra! that rich gem and rare
  Which gilds the house of Malatesta so,
  That never worthier or more honoured thing
  Adorned the dome of Keysar or of king.

  VI
  If she had dwelt in Rimini of yore,
  What time, from conquered Gaul returning home,
  Julius stood fearing on the river-shore,
  To ford the stream and make a foe of Rome,
  He every banner would have bowed before
  That dame, discharged his trophies, and such doom,
  Such pact would have received as liked her best;
  And haply ne'er had Freedom been opprest.

  VII
  The consort of my lord of Bozzolo
  Behold! the mother, sisters, cousinhood;
  Them of Torello, Bentivoglio,
  Pallavigini's and Visconti's brood!
  Lo! she to whom all living dames forego
  The palm, and all of Grecian, Latin blood,
  Or barbarous, all that ever were, whose name
  For grace and beauty most is noised by Fame;

  VIII
  Julia Gonzaga, she that wheresoe'er
  She moves, where'er she turns her lucid eyes,
  Not only is in charms without a peer,
  But seems a goddess lighted from the skies:
  With her is paired her brother's wife, who ne'er
  Swerved from her plighted faith — aye good and wise —
  Because ill Fortune bore her long despite;
  Lo! Arragonian Anna, Vasto's light!

  IX
  Anne gentle, courteous, and as sage as fair,
  Temple of Love and Truth and Chastity:
  With her, her sister dims all beauty, where
  Her radiance shines. Lo! one that hath set free
  Her conquering lord from Orcus' dark repair,
  And him in spite of death and destiny
  (Beyond all modern instance) raised on high,
  To shine with endless glory in the sky.

  X
  My ladies of Ferrara, those of gay
  Urbino's court are here; and I descry
  Mantua's dames, and all that fair array
  Which Lombardy and Tuscan town supply.
  The cavalier amid that band, whom they
  So honour, unless dazzled is mine eye
  By those fair faces, is the shining light
  Of his Arezzo, and Accolti hight.

  XI
  Adorned with scarlet hat, and scarlet pall,
  His nephew Benedict, lo! there I see;
  With him Campeggio and Mantua's cardinal;
  Glory and light of the consistory;
  And (if I dote not) mark how one and all
  In face and gesture show such mighty glee
  At my return, no easy task 'twould seem
  So vast an obligation to redeem.

  XII
  With them Lactantius is, Claude Ptolemy,
  Trissino, Pansa, and Capilupi mine,
  Latino Giovenal, it seems to me;
  Sasso, and Molza, and Florian hight Montine;
  With him, by whom through shorter pathway we
  Are led to the Ascraean font divine,
  Julio Camillo; and meseems that I
  Berna, and Sanga, and Flaminio spy.

  XIII
  Lo! Alexander of Farnese, and O
  Learned company that follows in his train!
  Phaedro, Cappella, Maddalen', Portio,
  Surnamed the Bolognese, the Volterrane.
  Blosio, Pierio, Vida, famed for flow
  Of lofty eloquence of exhaustless vein;
  Mussuro, Lascari, and Navagero,
  And Andrew Maro, and the monk Severo.

  XIV
  Lo! two more Alexanders! of the tree
  Of the Orologi one, and one Guarino:
  Mario d' Olvito, and of royalty
  That scourge, divine Pietro Aretino.
  I two Girolamos amid them see,
  Of Veritade and the Cittadino;
  See the Mainardo, the Leoniceno,
  Panizzato, Celio, and Teocreno.

  XV
  Bernardo Capel, Peter Bembo here
  I see, through whom our pure, sweet idiom rose,
  And who, of vulgar usage winnowed clear,
  Its genuine form in his example shows.
  Behold an Obyson, that in his rear
  Admires the pains which he so well bestows.
  I Fracastoro, Bevezzano note,
  And Tryphon Gabriel, Tasso more remote.

  XVI
  Upon me Nicholas Tiepoli
  And Nicholas Ammanio fix their eyes;
  With Anthony Fulgoso, who to spy
  My boat near land shows pleasure and surprise.
  There, from those dames apart, my Valery
  Stands with Barignan, haply to devise
  With him how, evermore by woman harmed,
  By her he shall not evermore be charmed.

  XVII
  Of high and superhuman genius, tied
  By love and blood, lo! Pico and Pio true;
  He that approaches at the kinsmen's side,
  — So honoured by the best — I never knew;
  But, if by certain tokens signified,
  He is the man I so desire to view,
  That Sannazaro, who persuades the nine
  To leave their fountain for the foaming brine.

  XVIII
  Diligent, faithful secretary, lo!
  The learned Pistophilus, mine Angiar here,
  And the Acciajuoli their joint pleasure show
  That for my bark there is no further fear.
  There I my kinsman Malaguzzo know;
  And mighty hope from Adoardo hear,
  That these my nest-notes shall by friendly wind
  Be blown from Calpe's rock to furthest Ind.

  XIX
  Joys Victor Fausto; Tancred joys to view
  My sail; and with them joy a hundred more.
  Women and men I see, a mingled crew,
  At my return rejoicing, crowd the shore.
  Then, since the wind blows fair, nor much to do
  Remains, let me my course delay no more;
  And turning to Melissa, in what way
  She rescued good Rogero let me say.

  XX
  Much bent was this Melissa (as I know
  I many times have said to you whilere)
  That Bradamant in wedlock should bestow
  Her hand upon the youthful cavalier;
  And so at heart had either's weal and woe,
  That she from hour to hour of them would hear:
  Hence ever on that quest she spirits sent,
  One still returning as the other went.

  XXI
  A prey to deep and stubborn grief, reclined
  Mid gloomy shades Rogero they descried;
  Firm not to swallow food of any kind,
  Nor from that purpose to be turned aside;
  And so to die of hunger he designed:
  But weird Melissa speedy aid supplied;
  Who took a road, from home forth issuing, where
  She met the Grecian emperor's youthful heir;

  XXII
  Leo that, one by one, dispatched his train
  Of followers, far and wide, through every bourn,
  And afterwards, in person went in vain,
  To find the warrior of the unicorn.
  The wise enchantress, that will sell and rein,
  Had on that day equipt a demon, borne
  By him, in likeness of a hackney horse,
  Constantine's son encountered in her course.

  XXIII
  "If such as your ingenuous mien" (she cried
  To Leo) "is your soul's nobility,
  And corresponding with your fair outside
  Your inward goodness and your courtesy,
  Some help, some comfort, sir, for one provide
  In whom the best of living knights we see;
  Who, save ye help and comfort quickly lend,
  Is little distant from his latter end.

  XXIV
  "The best of knights will die of all, who don,
  Or e'er donned sword and buckler, the most fair
  And gentle of all warriors that are gone,
  Or who throughout the world yet living are,
  And simply for a courteous deed, if none
  Shall comfort to the youthful sufferer bear.
  Then come, sir, for the love of Heaven, and try
  If any counsel succour may supply."

  XXV
  It suddenly came into Leo's mind
  The knight of whom she parlayed was that same,
  Whom throughout all the land he sought to find,
  And seeking whom, he now in person came.
  So that obeying her that would persuade
  Such pious work, he spurred behind the dame;
  Who thither led (nor tedious was the way)
  Where nigh reduced to death the stripling lay.

  XXVI
  They found Rogero fasting from all food
  For three long days, so broken down; with pain
  The knight could but upon his feet have stood,
  To fall, albeit unpushed, to ground again.
  With helm on head, and with his faulchion good
  Begirt, he lay reclined in plate and chain.
  A pillow of his buckler had he made,
  Where the white unicorn was seen pourtraid.

  XXVII
  There thinking what an injury he had done
  To his lady love — how ingrate, how untrue
  To her had been — not simple grief alone
  O'erwhelmed him, to such height his fury grew,
  He bit his hands and lips; while pouring down
  His cheeks, the tears unceasing ran, and through
  The passion that so wrapt his troubled sprite,
  Nor Leo nor Melissa heard the knight.

  XXVIII
  Nor therefore interrupts he his lament,
  Nor checks his sighs, nor checks his trickling tears.
  Young Leo halts, to hear his speech intent;
  Lights from his courser, and towards him steers:
  He knows that of the sorrows which torment
  Love is the cause; but yet from nought appears
  Who is the person that such grief hath bred;
  For by Rogero this remains unsaid.

  XXIX
  Approaching nearer and yet nearer, now
  He fronts the weeping warrior, face to face,
  Greets with a brother's love, and stooping low,
  His neck encircles with a fast embrace.
  By the lamenting Child I know not how
  Is liked his sudden presence in that place;
  Who fears annoy or trouble at his hand;
  And lest he should his wish for death withstand.

  XXX
  Him with the sweetest words young Leo plied,
  And with the warmest love that he could show,
  "Let it not irk thee," to the Child he cried,
  "To tell the cause from whence thy sorrows flow;
  For few such desperate evils man betide,
  But that there is deliverance from his woe,
  So that the cause be known; nor he bereft
  Of hope should ever be, so life be left.

  XXXI
  "Much grieve I thou wouldst hide thyself from me,
  That known me for thy faithful friend and true;
  Not only now I am so bound to thee,
  That I the knot can never more undo;
  But even from the beginning, when to be
  Thy deadly foeman I had reason due.
  Hope then that I will succour thee with pelf,
  With friends, with following, and with life itself.

  XXXII
  "Nor shun to me thy sorrow to explain,
  And I beseech thee leave to me to try
  If wealth avail to free thee from thy pain,
  Art, cunning, open force, or flattery,
  If my assistance is employed in vain,
  The last relief remains to thee to die:
  But be content awhile this deed to shun
  Till all that thou canst do shall first be done."

  XXXIII
  He said; and with such forceful prayer appealed;
  So gently and benignly soothed his moan;
  That good Rogero could not choose but yield,
  Whose heart was not of iron or of stone;
  Who deemed, unless he now his lips unsealed,
  He should a foul discourteous deed have done.
  He fain would have replied, but made assay
  Yet twice or thrice, ere words could find their way.

  XXXIV
  "My lord, when known for what I am (and me
  Now shalt thou know)," he made at last reply,
  "I wot thou, like myself, content wilt be,
  And haply more content, that I should die.
  Know me for him so hated once by thee;
  Rogero who repaid that hate am I;
  And now 'tis many days since with intent
  Of putting thee to death from court I went.

  XXXV
  "Because I would not see my promised bride
  Borne off by thee; in that Duke Aymon's love
  And favour was engaged upon thy side.
  But, for man purposes, and God above
  Disposes, thy great courtesy, well tried
  In a sore need, my fixt resolve did move.
  Nor only I renounced the hate I bore,
  But purposed to be thine for evermore.

  XXXVI
  "What time I as Rogero was unknown,
  Thou madest suit I would obtain for thee
  The Lady Bradamant; which was all one
  As to demand my heart and soul from me.
  Whether thy wish I rather than mine own
  Sought to content, thou hast been made to see.
  Thine is the lady; her in peace possess;
  Far more than mine I prize thy happiness.

  XXXVII
  "Content thee, that deprived of her, as well
  I should myself of worthless life deprive;
  For better I without a soul could dwell
  Than without Bradamant remain alive.
  And never while these veins with life-blood swell
  Canst thou with her legitimately wive:
  For vows erewhile have been between us said;
  Nor she at once can with two husbands wed."

  XXXVIII
  So filled is gentle Leo with amaze
  When he the stranger for Rogero knows,
  With lips and brow unmoved, with stedfast gaze
  And rooted feet, he like a statue shows;
  Like statue more than man, which votaries raise
  In churches, for acquittance of their vows.
  He deems that courtesy of so high a strain
  Was never done nor will be done again;

  XXXIX
  And that he him doth for Rogero know
  Not only that goodwill he bore whilere
  Abates not, but augments his kindness so,
  That no less grieves the Grecian cavalier
  Than good Rogero for Rogero's woe.
  For this, as well as that he will appear
  Deservedly an emperor's son — although
  In other things outdone — he will not be
  Defeated in the race of courtesy;

  XL
  And says, "That day my host was overthrown,
  Rogero, by thy wond'rous valour, though
  I had thee at despite, if I had known
  Thou was Rogero, as I know it now,
  So me thy virtue would have made thine own,
  As then it made me, knowing not my foe;
  So hatred from my bosom would have chased,
  And with my present love have straight replaced.

  XLI
  "That I Rogero hated, ere I knew
  Thou was Rogero, will I not deny.
  But think not that I further would pursue
  The hatred that I bore thee; and had I,
  When thee I from thy darksome dungeon drew,
  Descried the truth, as this I now descry,
  Such treatment shouldst thou then have had, as thou
  Shalt have from me, to thine advantage, now;

  XLII
  "And if I willingly had done so then,
  When not, as I am now, obliged to thee;
  How much more gladly should I now; and when,
  Not doing so, I should with reason be
  Deemed most ungrateful amid ingrate men;
  Since thou foregoest thine every good for me!
  But I to thee restore thy gift, and, more
  Glady than I received it, this restore.

  XLIII
  "The damsel more to thee than me is due;
  And though for her deserts I hold her dear,
  If that fair prize some happier mortal drew,
  I think not I my vital thread should shear:
  Nor would I by thy death be free to woo:
  That from the hallowed bands of wedlock clear
  Wherein the lady hath to thee been tied,
  I might possess her as my lawful bride.

  XLIV
  "Not only Bradamant would I forego,
  But whatsoe'er I in the world possess;
  And rather forfeit life than ever know
  That grief, through me, should such a knight oppress.
  To me is thy distrust great cause of woe,
  That since thou couldst dispose of me no less
  Than of thyself, thou — rather than apply
  To me for succour — wouldst of sorrow die."

  XLV
  These words he spake, and more to that intent,
  Too tedious in these verses to recite;
  Refuting evermore such argument
  As might be used in answer by the knight:
  Who said, at last, "I yield, and am content
  To live; but how can I ever requite
  The obligation, which by me is owed
  To thee that twice hast life on me bestowed?"

  XLVI
  Melissa generous wine and goodly cheer
  Thither bade carry, in a thought obeyed;
  And comforted the mourning cavalier,
  Who would have sunk without her friendly aid.
  Meanwhile the sound of steeds Frontino's ear
  Had reached, and thither had he quickly made:
  Him Leo's squires at his commandment caught,
  And saddled, and to good Rogero brought;

  XLVII
  Who, though by Leo helped, with much ado
  And labour sore the gentle courser scaled.
  So wasted was the vigour which some few
  Short days before, in fighting field, availed
  To overthrow a banded host, and do
  The deeds he did, in cheating armour mailed.
  Departing thence, ere they had measured more
  Than half a league, they reached an abbey hoar:

  XLVIII
  Wherein what of that day was yet unworn
  They past, the morrow, and succeeding day;
  Until the warrior of the unicorn
  His vigour had recruited by the stay.
  He, Leo, and Melissa then return
  To Charles's royal residence; where lay
  An embassy, arrived the eve before,
  Which from the Bulgars' land a message bore.

  XLIX
  Since they that had for king proclaimed the knight
  Besought Rogero thither to repair
  Through these their envoys deeming they would light
  On him in Charles's court, where they should swear
  Fidelity, and yield to him his right;
  And he from them the crown receive and wear.
  Rogero's squire who served this band to steer
  Has published tidings of the cavalier.

  L
  He of the fight has told which at Belgrade
  Erewhile Rogero for the Bulgars won;
  How Leo and his sire were overlaid,
  And all their army slaughtered and undone;
  Wherefore the Bulgars him their king had made;
  Their royal line excluding from the throne:
  Then how Ungiardo took the warrior brave,
  And him to cruel Theodora gave.

  LI
  He speaks with that of certain news, which say
  How good Rogero's jailer was found dead,
  The prison broke and prisoner away:
  Of what became of him was nothing said.
  — Towards the city by a secret way
  (Nor was his visage seen) Rogero sped.
  He, on the following morning, and his friend,
  Leo, to Charles's court together wend.

  LII
  To Charles' court he wends; the bird he bore
  Of gold with its two heads — of crimson hue
  Its field — and that same vest and ensigns wore,
  As was erewhile devised between the two;
  And such as in the listed fight before
  His bruised and battered armour was in shew.
  So that they quickly knew the cavalier
  From him that strove with Bradamant whilere.

  LIII
  In royal ornaments and costly gown,
  Unarmed, beside him doth young Leo fare.
  A worthy following and of high renown
  Before, behind him, and about him are.
  He bowed to Charlemagne, who from his throne
  Had risen to do honour to the pair:
  Then holding still Rogero by the hand,
  So spake, while all that warrior closely scanned.

  LIV
  "Behold the champion good, that did maintain
  From dawn till fall of day the furious fight;
  And since by Bradamant nor taken, slain,
  Nor forced beyond the barriers was the knight,
  He is assured his victory is plain,
  Dread sir, if he your edict reads aright;
  And he hath won the lady for his wife:
  So comes to claim the guerdon of the strife.

  LV
  "Besides that by your edict's tenor none
  But him can to the damsel lift his eyes,
  — Is she deserved by deeds of valour done,
  What other is so worthy of the prize?
  — Should she by him that loves her best be won,
  None passes him, nor with the warrior vies;
  And he is here to fight against all foes
  That would in arms his right in her oppose."

  LVI
  King Charlemagne and all his peerage stand
  Amazed, who well believed the Grecian peer
  With Bradamant had striven with lifted brand
  In fight, and not that unknown cavalier.
  Marphisa, thither borne amid the band,
  That crowded round the royal chair to hear,
  Hardly till Leo made an ending staid;
  Then prest before the listening troop, and said:

  LVII
  "Since here Rogero is not, to contest
  The bride's possession with the stranger knight,
  Lest he, as undefended, be opprest,
  And forfeit so without dispute his right,
  On his behalf I undertake this quest,
  — His sister I — against whatever wight
  Shall here assert a claim to Bradamant,
  Or more desert than good Rogero vaunt."

  LVIII
  She spake this with such anger and disdain,
  Many surmised amid the assistant crew,
  That, without waiting leave from Charlemagne,
  What she had threatened she forthwith would do.
  No longer Leo deemed it time to feign;
  And from Rogero's head the helm withdrew;
  And to Marphisa, "For himself to speak,
  Behold him here and ready!" cried the Greek.

  LIX
  As looked old Aegeus at the accursed board,
  Seeing it was his son to whom — so willed
  His wicked consort — that Athenian lord
  Had given the juice from deadly drugs distilled;
  Whom he, if he had recognized his sword
  Though but a little later, would have killed;
  So looked Marphisa when, disclosed to view,
  She in the stranger knight Rogero knew;

  LX
  And ran forthwith to clip the cavalier;
  Nor could unclasp her arms: with loving show
  Charlemagne, Roland, and Rinaldo, here
  And there, fix friendly kisses on his brow.
  Nor him Sir Dudon, nor Sir Olivier,
  Nor King Sobrino can caress enow:
  Nor paladin nor peer, amid the crew,
  Wearies of welcoming that warrior true.

  LXI
  Leo, who well can play the spokesman, now
  That warlike band hath ceased to clip the knight,
  Tells before Charles and all that audience, how
  Rogero's daring, how Rogero's might,
  — Albeit to his good squadron's scathe and woe —
  Which at Belgrade he witnessed in that fight,
  So moved him that they overweighed all harms
  Inflicted on him by the warrior's arms.

  LXII
  So that to her Rogero being brought,
  Who would all havoc of the youth have made,
  He setting all his family at nought,
  Had out of durance vile the knight conveyed;
  And how Rogero, that the rescue wrought
  By Leo might be worthily repaid,
  Did that high courtesy; which can by none,
  That ever were or e'er will be, outdone;

  LXIII
  And he from point to point continuing, said
  That which Rogero had for him achieved;
  And after, how by sorrow sore bested,
  In that to leave his cherished wife he grieved,
  He had resolved to die, and, almost dead,
  Was only by his timely aid relieved;
  And this he told so movingly, no eye
  Remained, amid those martial many, dry.

  LXIV
  So efficaciously he after prayed
  To the obstinate Duke Aymon, not alone
  The stubborn sire of Bradamant he swayed,
  And to forego his settled purpose won;
  But that proud lord in person did persuade
  To beg Rogero's pardon, and his son
  And son-in-law to be beseech the knight;
  And thus to him his Bradamant was plight.

  LXV
  To her, where, of her feeble life in doubt,
  She in a secret chamber made lament,
  Through many a messenger, with joyful shout
  And mickle haste, the happy tidings went.
  Hence the warm blood, that stagnated about
  Her heart, by her first sorrow thither sent,
  Ebbed at this notice in so full a tide,
  Well nigh for sudden joy the damsel died.

  LXVI
  Of all her vigour is she so foregone,
  She cannot on her feeble feet rely:
  Yet what her force must needs to you be known,
  And what the damsel's magnanimity.
  None doomed to prison, wheel or halter, none
  Condemned some other evil death to die,
  About whose brows the sable band is tied,
  Rejoices more to hear his pardon cried.

  LXVII
  Joys Clermont's, joys Mongrana's noble house,
  Those kindred branches that fresh know to view.
  With equal grief Count Anselm overflows,
  Gan, Falcon, Gini and Ginami's crew:
  Yet they meanwhile beneath contented brows
  Conceal the dark and envious thoughts they brew.
  As the fox waits the motions of the hare,
  They wait their time for vengeance, and forbear.

  LXVIII
  Besides that oftentimes before the rage
  Of Roland and Rinaldo on them fell,
  Though they were calmed by Charles's counsel sage,
  And common danger from the infidel,
  They had new cause for grief in Bertolage
  Slain by their foemen and Sir Pinnabel:
  But they concealed their hatred, and endured
  Those griefs, as of the matter ill assured.

  LXIX
  Those envoys of the Bulgars that had made
  For Charles's court (as hath erewhile been shown),
  Hoping to find the knight, whose shield pourtrayed
  The unicorn, elected to their throne,
  Bless the good fortune which their hope repayed,
  Seeing that valiant warrior, and fall down
  Before his feet, and him in humble speech
  Again to seek their Bulgary beseech;

  LXX
  Where kept for him in Adrianople are
  The sceptre and the crown, his royal due:
  But let him succour to his kingdom bear;
  For — to their further scathe — advices shew
  Constantine doth a mighty host prepare,
  And thitherward in person moves anew;
  And they — of their elected king possest —
  Hope the Greek empire from his hands to wrest.

  LXXI
  He accepts the realm, by their entreaties won;
  And, to afford them aid against their foes,
  Will went to Bulgary when three months are done;
  Save Fortune otherwise of him dispose.
  When this is heard by that Greek emperor's son,
  He bids Rogero on his faith repose;
  For since by him the Bulgar's realm is swayed,
  Peace between them and Constantine is made;

  LXXII
  Nor needeth he depart in haste, to guide
  His Bulgar bands against the Grecian foe;
  For all that he had conquered far and wide,
  He will persuade his father to forego.
  None of the virtues, in Rogero spied,
  Moved Bradamant's ambitious mother so,
  Or so to endear her son-in-law availed,
  As hearing now that son a sovereign hailed.

  LXXIII
  The rich and royal nuptials they prepare
  As well befits him, by whose care 'tis done,
  'Tis done by Charles; and with such cost and care
  As if 'twere for a daughter of his own.
  For such the merits of the damsel are,
  And such had all her martial kindred shown,
  Charles would not think he should exceed due measure
  If spent for her was half his kingdom's treasure.

  LXXIV
  He a free court bids cry; whither his way
  Securely every one that wills may wend;
  And offers open lists till the ninth day
  To whosoever would in arms contend;
  And bids build bowers afield, and interlay
  Green boughs therein, and flowers and foliage blend;
  And make those bowers so gay with silk and gold,
  No fairer place this ample world doth hold.

  LXXV
  Guested within fair Paris cannot be
  The countless foreign bands that thither fare;
  Who, rich and poor, of high and low degree,
  And Greeks and Latins and Barbarians are.
  There is no end of lord and embassy
  That thither from all ends of earth repair;
  All lodged conveniently, to their content,
  Beneath pavilion, booth, and bower and tent.

  LXXVI
  The weird Melissa against the coming night
  With singular and matchless ornament
  Had for that pair the nuptial chamber dight;
  Whereon long time before she had been bent:
  Long time before desirous of the rite
  Had been that dame, presageful of the event;
  Presageful of futurity, she knew
  What goodly fruit should from their stems ensue.

  LXXVII
  She had prepared the genial, fruitful bed,
  Under a broad pavilion; one more rich,
  Adorned, and jocund, never overhead
  (Did this for peace or war its master pitch)
  Was in the world, before or after, spread;
  And this from Thracian strand had borne the witch.
  The costly prize from Constantine she bore,
  Who for disport was tented on that shore.

  LXXVIII
  She with young Leo's leave, or rather so
  The Grecian's admiration to obtain,
  And a rare token of that art to show,
  Which on Hell's mighty dragon puts the rein,
  And at her pleasure rules that impious foe
  Of Heaven, together with his evil train,
  Bade demons the pavilion through mid air
  To Paris from Constantinople bear.

  LXXIX
  From Constantine that lay therein, who swayed
  The Grecian empire's sceptre, at mid-day
  This with its cordage, shaft whereby 'twas stayed,
  And all within and out, she bore away;
  And of the costly tent, through air conveyed,
  For young Rogero made a lodging gay.
  The bridal ended, this her demon crew
  Thither, from whence 'twas brought, conveyed anew.

  LXXX
  Two thousand tedious years were nigh complete,
  Since this fair work was fashioned by the lore
  Of Trojan maid, warmed with prophetic heat;
  Who, 'mid long labour and 'mid vigil sore,
  With her own fingers all the storied sheet
  Of the pavilion had embroidered o'er;
  Cassandra hight; that maid to Hector brave
  (Her brother he) this costly present gave.

  LXXXI
  The curtiest cavalier, the kindliest shoot
  That ever from her brother's stock should grow
  (Albeit she knew far distant from its root,
  With many a branch between, should be that bough)
  In silk and gold upon the gorgeous suit
  Of hangings had she wrought in goodly show.
  Much prized that gift, while living, Priam's son,
  For its rare work and her by whom 'twas done.

  LXXXII
  But when by treachery perished Priam's heir,
  And Greeks the Trojans scathed in cruel sort,
  When her gates opened by false Sinon were,
  And direr ill was done than tales report,
  This plunder fell to Menelaus' share,
  Wherewith to Egypt's land he made resort;
  There left it to King Proteus, Egypt's lord,
  In ransom for his prisoned wife restored;

  LXXXIII
  She Helen hight: her Menelaus to free,
  To Proteus the pavilion gave away;
  Which, passing through the line of Ptolemy,
  To Cleopatra fell; from her in fray
  Agrippa's band on the Leucadian sea
  Bore off the treasure, amid other prey.
  Augustus and Tiberius heired the loom,
  Kept till the time of Constantine in Rome:

  LXXXIV
  That Constantine, whom thou shall ever rue
  Fair Italy, while the heavens above are rolled.
  Constantine to Byzantium, when he grew
  Weary of Tyber, bore the tent of old.
  Melissa from his namesake this withdrew,
  Its pole of ivory and its cord of gold,
  And all its cloth with beauteous figures fraught;
  Fairer Apelles' pencil never wrought.

  LXXXV
  Here the three Graces in gay vesture gowned
  Assisted the delivery of a queen.
  Not in four ages in this earthly round
  Was ever born a boy so fair of mien.
  Jove, Venus, Mars, and Mercury renowned
  For fluent speech, about the child are seen:
  Him have they strewed, and stew with heaven's perfume,
  Ambrosial odours and aetherial bloom.

  LXXXVI
  Hippolytus a little label said,
  Inscribed upon the baby's swaddling clothes.
  By the hand him Fortune leads in age more staid;
  And Valour as a guide before him goes.
  An unknown band in sweeping vest arraid,
  With long descending locks, the tapestry shows,
  Deputed by Corvinus to desire
  The tender infant from his princely sire.

  LXXXVII
  He reverently parts from Hercules' side,
  From her, his lady mother, Eleanor;
  And to the Danube wends; where far and wide
  They meet the boy, and as a god adore.
  The prudent king of Hungary is descried,
  Who does due honour to his ripened lore,
  In yet unripe, yea, raw and tender years,
  And ranks the stripling above all his peers.

  LXXXVIII
  One is there that in his green age and new
  Places Strigonia's crozier in his hand.
  Him ever at Corvinus' side we view;
  Whether he doth in court or camp command,
  Whether against the Turk, or German crew
  The puissant monarch leads his martial band,
  Watchful Hippolytus is at his side,
  And gathers virtue from his generous guide.

  LXXXIX
  There is it seen, how he his blooming age
  Divides mid arts and wholesome discipline:
  The secret spirit of the ancient page
  There Fuscus well instructs him to divine:
  "This must thou shun, that follow" — seems the sage
  To say — "if thou immortally wouldst shine."
  Fashioned withal with so much skill and care
  By her who wrought that work, their gestures were.

  XC
  A cardinal he next is seen, though young
  In years, at council in the Vatican;
  Where for deep wisdom graced by eloquent tongue,
  With wonder him the assembled conclave scan.
  "What will he be" — they seem to say among
  Themselves — "when he is ripened into man?
  Oh! if on him St. Peter's mantle fall,
  What a blest aera! what a happy call!"

  XCI
  That brave youth's liberal pastimes are designed
  In other place; on Alpine mountain hoar
  Here he affronts the bear of rugged kind;
  And there in rushy bottom bays the boar:
  Now on his jennet he outgoes the wind,
  And drives some goat or gallant hind before;
  Which falls o'ertaken on the dusty plain,
  By his descending faulchion cleft in twain.

  XCII
  He is descried, amid a fair array
  Of poets and philosophers elsewhere
  This pricks for him the wandering planets' way;
  These earth, these heaven for his instruction square.
  Some chant sad elegies, some verses gay
  Lays lyric or heroic; singers there
  He with rich music hears; nor moves a pace
  But what in every step is sovereign grace.

  XCIII
  The first part of the storied walls pourtraied
  That noble prince's gentle infancy.
  Cassandra all beside had overlaid
  With fears of justice, prudence, modesty,
  Valour, and that fifty virtue, which hath made
  With those fair sisters closest amity;
  I speak of her that gives and that bestows.
  With all these virtues gilt, the stripling glows.

  XCIV
  In this part is the princely youth espied
  With that unhappy duke, the Insubri's head;
  In peace they sit in council at his side,
  Together armed, the serpent-banner spread.
  The youth by one unchanging faith is tied
  To him for ever, well or ill bested;
  His followers still in flight before the foe,
  His guide in peril, his support in woe.

  XCV
  Him in another quarter you descry,
  For his Ferrara and her duke in fear,
  Who by strange proofs doth sift, and certify
  To his just brother, vouched by tokens clear,
  The close device of that ill treachery,
  Hatched by those kinsmen whom he held most dear;
  Hence justly he becomes that title's heir,
  Which Rome yet free bade righteous Tully bear.

  XCVI
  Elsewhere in martial panoply he shone,
  Hasting to help the church with lifted blade;
  With scanty and tumultuous levy gone
  Against well-ordered host in arms arraid:
  And lo! the coming of that chief alone
  Affords the priestly band such present aid,
  Extinguished are the fires before they spread.
  He came, he saw, he conquered, may be said.

  XCVII
  Elsewhere he stands upon his native strand,
  Fighting against the mightiest armament,
  That whensoever against Argive land,
  Or Turkish, from Venetian harbour went;
  Scatters and overthrows the hostile band,
  And — spoil and prisoners to his brother sent —
  Nothing reserves save that unfading bay;
  The only prize he cannot give away.

  XCVIII
  Upon those figures gazed the courtly crew,
  But read no meaning in the storied wall:
  Because there was not any one to shew
  That these were things hereafter to befall.
  Those fair and quaintly fashioned forms they view
  With pleasure, and peruse the scrolls withal:
  But Bradamant, to whom the whole was known,
  By wise Melissa taught, rejoiced alone.

  XCIX
  Though not instructed in that history
  Like gentle Bradamant, the affianced knight
  Remembers how amid his progeny
  Atlantes often praised this Hippolyte.
  — Who faithfully could verse such courtesy,
  As Charlemagne vouchsafed to every wight?
  With various games that solemn feast was cheered,
  And charged with viands aye the board appeared.

  C
  Who is a valiant knight, is here descried;
  For daily broke a thousand lances lay:
  Singly to combat or in troops they ride;
  On horseback or afoot, they mix in fray.
  Worthiest of all Rogero is espied,
  Who always conquers, jousting night and day;
  And so, in wrestling, dance, and every deed,
  Still from its rivals bears away the meed.

  CI
  On the last day, when at their festive cheer
  Was seated solemnly the assembled band,
  Where at Charles' left was placed the wedded peer,
  And Bradamant upon his better hand,
  Across the fields an armed cavalier,
  Of semblance haughty, and of stature grand,
  Was seen to ride towards the royal table;
  Himself and courser wholly clothed in sable.

  CII
  The King of Argier he; that for the scorn
  Received from her, when on the bridge he fell,
  Never to clothe himself in arms had sworn,
  Nor draw the faulchion nor bestride the sell,
  Till he had like an anchoret outworn
  A year and month and day in lowly cell.
  So to chastise themselves for such like crimes
  Were cavaliers accustomed in those times.

  CIII
  Albeit of Charles and Agramant the Moor
  Had heard the several fortunes while away,
  Not to foreswear himself, he armed no more
  Than if in nought concerned in that affray:
  But when the year and month were wholly o'er,
  And wholly past was the succeeding day,
  With other courser, harness, sword, and lance,
  The king betook him to the court of France.

  CIV
  He neither lighted from his horse, nor bowed
  His head; and, without sign of reverence due,
  His scorn for Charlemagne by gestures showed,
  And the high presence of so fair a crew.
  Astound and full of wonder stood the crowd,
  Such license in that haughty man to view.
  All leave their meat, all leave their talk, to hear
  The purpose of the stranger cavalier.

  CV
  To Charles and to Rogero opposite,
  With a loud voice, and in proud accent, "I
  Am Rodomont of Sarza," said the knight,
  "Who thee, Rogero, to the field defy;
  And here, before the sun withdraws his light,
  Will prove on thee thine infidelity;
  And that thou, as a traitor to thy lord,
  Deserv'st not any honour at this board.

  CVI
  "Albeit thy felony be plain and clear,
  Which thou, as christened, canst not disavow;
  Nathless to make it yet more plain appear,
  This will I prove upon thee; and, if thou
  Canst find a knight to combat for thee here,
  Him will accept; — if one be not enow —
  Will four, nay six accept; and will maintain
  My words against them all in listed plain."

  CVII
  Rogero, with the leave of Pepin's son,
  Uprose at that appeal, and thus replied:
  That he — nor he alone — but every one,
  Who thus impeached him as a traitor, lied;
  That so he by his king had ever done,
  Him none could justly blame; and on his side,
  He was prepared in listed field to shew
  He evermore by him had done his due.

  CVIII
  He can defend himself; nor need he crave
  Another warrior's help that course to run;
  And 'tis his hope to show him he would have
  Enough, perhaps would have too much, of one.
  Thither Orlando and Rinaldo, brave
  Olivier, and his white and sable son,
  Thither good Dudon and Marphisa wend;
  Who fain with that fierce paynim will contend.

  CIX
  They tell Rogero that, as newly wed
  The combat he in person should refuse.
  "Take ye no further pains," the warrior said,
  "For such would be for me a foul excuse."
  The Tartar's arms were brought, which cut the thread
  Of more delay and of all further truce:
  With spurs Orlando deck'd the youthful lord,
  King Charlemagne begirt him with the sword.

  CX
  Marphisa and Bradamant in corslet case
  His breast, and clothe him in his other gear.
  Astolpho led his horse of noble race:
  Sir Dudon held his stirrup: far and near
  Rinaldo and Namus made the mob give place,
  Assisted by the Marquis Olivier.
  All from the crowded lists they drive with speed,
  Evermore kept in order for such need.

  CXI
  The pale-faced dames and damsels troop, in guise
  Of pigeons round the lists, a timid show;
  When, homeward bound, from fruitful field they rise,
  Scared by wide-sweeping winds, which loudly blow,
  Mid flash and clap; and when the sable skies
  Threat hail and rain, the harvest's waste and woe:
  A timid troop, they for Rogero fear,
  Ill matched they deem with that fierce cavalier.

  CXII
  So him deemed all the rabble; and so most
  Of those bold cavalier and barons thought;
  In that they had not yet the memory lost
  Of what that paynim had in Paris wrought,
  When singly fire and sword the warrior tost,
  And much of that fair town to ruin brought;
  Whose signs remained, and yet will long remain:
  Nor ever greater havoc plagued that reign.

  CXIII
  Bradamant's heart above those others' beat:
  Not that she deemed the Saracen in might,
  Or valour which in the heart-core hath its seat,
  Was of more prowess than the youthful knight;
  Nor (what oft gives success in martial feat
  That with the paynim was the better right.
  Yet cannot she her some ill misgivings quell.
  But upon those that love such fear sits well.

  CXIV
  Oh! in her fear for him, how willingly
  She battle for Rogero would have done!
  If lifeless on the listed field to lie
  Surer than sure, — in fight with Ulien's son.
  More than one death would she consent to die,
  If she withal could suffer more than one,
  Rather than she in that unhappy strife
  Would see her cherished consort risk his life.

  CXV
  But prayer availed not on the damsel's part
  To make Rogero leave to her the quest:
  She then with mournful face and beating heart
  Stood by to view that pair to fight addrest.
  From right and left the peer and paynim start,
  And at each other run with lance in rest.
  The spears seem ice, as they in shivers fly.
  The fragments birds, that mount through middle sky.

  CXVI
  Rodomont's lance which smote in the career
  Upon mid-shield, yet harmed it little; so
  Perfect was famous Hector's iron gear,
  Hardened by Vulcan's hand, and safe from blow.
  As well against the shield his levelled spear
  Rogero guides, and that good buckler — though
  Well steeled within and out, with bone between,
  And nigh a palm in thickness — pierces clean;

  CXVII
  And — but his lance resists not that fierce shock,
  And at the first assault its splinters fly,
  And bits and fragments of the shivered stock
  Seem fledged with feathers they ascend so high;
  Were his arms hewn from adamantine rock,
  The spear would pierce the paynim's panoply;
  And end that battle: but it breaks withal,
  And on their croups both staggering coursers fall.

  CXVIII
  With bridle and with spur the martial pair
  Raise their proud horses nimbly from the ground;
  And having broke their spears, with faulchions bare
  Return, to bandy fierce and cruel wound.
  Wheeling with wondrous mastery, here and there,
  The bold and ready coursers in a round,
  The warriors with their biting swords begin
  To try where either's armour is most thin.

  CXIX
  Rodomont had not that hard dragon-hide
  Which heretofore had cased the warrior's breast;
  Nor Nimrod's trenchant sword was at his side;
  Nor the accustomed helm his temples prest.
  For on that bridge which spanned the narrow tide,
  A loser to Dordona's lady, vest
  And arms suspended from the votive stone
  He left; as I, meseems, erewhile have shown.

  CXX
  Clad was the king in other goodly mail;
  Yet not like that first panoply secure:
  But neither this, nor that, nor harder scale
  Could Balisarda's deadly dint endure;
  Against which neither workmanship avail,
  Enchantment, temper, nor prime steel and pure.
  So here so there Rogero plied his sword,
  He more than once the paynim's armour bored.

  CXXI
  When Rodomont beholds in that fierce close
  His widely crimsoned arms, nor can restrain
  The greater portion of those griding blows
  From biting to the quick, through plate and chain,
  He with more fury, with more rage o'erflows,
  Than in mid winter the tempestrous main
  Flings down his shield, and with both hands outright
  Lays at Rogero's helm with all his might.

  CXXII
  With that excessive force, wherewith the gin,
  Erected in two barges upon Po,
  And raised by men and wheels, with deafening din
  Descends upon the sharpened piles below,
  With all his might he smote the paladin
  With either hand; was never direr blow:
  Him the charmed helmet helped, or — such its force —
  The stroke would have divided man and horse.

  CXXIII
  As if about to fall, the youthful lord
  Twice nodded, opening legs and arms; anew
  Rodomont smote, in that he would afford
  His foe no time his spirits to renew:
  Then threatened other stroke; but that fine sword
  Bore not such hammering, and in shivers flew;
  And the bold Saracen, bereft of brand
  Was in the combat left with unarmed hand.

  CXXIV
  But not for this doth Rodomont refrain:
  He swoops upon the Child, unheeding aught:
  So sore astounded is Rogero's brain;
  So wholly overclouded is his thought.
  But him the paynim well awakes again,
  Whom by the neck he with strong arm has caught,
  And gripes and grapples with such mighty force,
  He falls on earth, pulled headlong from his horse.

  CXXV
  Yet leaps from earth as nimbly, moved by spleen
  Far less than shame; for on his gentle bride
  He turned his eyes, and that fair face serene
  Now troubled the disdainful warrior spied.
  She in sore doubt her champion's fall had seen;
  And well nigh at that sight the lady died.
  Rogero, quickly to revenge the affront,
  Clutches his sword and faces Rodomont.

  CXXVI
  He at Rogero rode, who that rude shock
  Shunned warily, retiring from his ground,
  And, as he past, the paynim's bridle took
  With his left had, and turned his courser round;
  While with his right he at his rider struck,
  Whom he in belly, flank and breast would wound;
  And twice sore anguish felt the monarch, gored
  In flank and thigh, by good Rogero's sword.

  CXXVII
  Rodomont, grasping still in that close fight
  The hilt and pommel of his broken blade,
  Layed at Rogero's helmet with such might,
  That him another stroke might have dismaid:
  But good Rogero, who should win of right,
  Seizing his arm, the king so rudely swayed,
  Bringing his left his better hand to speed,
  That he pulled down the paynim from his steed.

  CXXVIII
  Through force or skill, so fell the Moorish lord,
  He stood his match, I rather ought to say
  Fell on his feet; because Rogero's sword
  Gave him, 'twas deemed, advantage in the fray.
  Rogero stands aloof, with wary ward
  As fain to keep the paynim king at bay.
  For the wise champion will not let a wight
  So talk and bulky close with him in fight;

  CXXIX
  Rogero flank and thigh dyed red beheld,
  And other wounds; and hoped he would have failed
  By little and by little, as it welled;
  So that he finally should have prevailed.
  His hilt and pommel in his fist yet held
  The paynim, which with all his might he scaled
  At young Rogero; whom he smote so sore,
  The stripling never was so stunned before.

  CXXX
  In the helmet-cheek and shoulder-bone below
  The Child was smit, and left so sore astound,
  He, tripping still and staggering to and fro,
  Scarce kept himself from falling to the ground.
  Rodomont fain would close upon his foe;
  But his foot fails him, weakened by the wound,
  Which pierced his thigh: he overtasked his might;
  And on his kneepan fell the paynim knight.

  CXXXI
  Rogero lost no time, and with fierce blows
  Smote him in face and bosom with his brand;
  Hammered, and held the Saracen so close,
  To ground he bore that champion with his hand.
  But he so stirred himself, again he rose:
  He gripes Rogero so, fast locked they stand.
  Seconding their huge vigour by address,
  They circle one another, shake, and press.

  CXXXII
  His wounded thigh and gaping flank had sore
  Weakened the vigour of the Moorish king:
  Rogero had address; had mickle lore;
  Was greatly practised in the wrestlers' ring:
  He marked his vantage, nor from strife forbore;
  And, where he saw the blood most freely spring,
  And where most wounded was the warrior, prest
  The paynim with his feet, his arms, and breast.

  CXXXIII
  Rodomont filled with spite and rage, his foe
  Takes by the neck and shoulders, and now bends
  Towards him, and now pushes from him; now
  Raises from earth, and on his chest suspends;
  Whirls here and there and grapples; and to throw
  The stripling sorely in that strife contends.
  Collected in himself, Rogero wrought,
  To keep his vantage taxing strength and thought.

  CXXXIV
  So shifting oft his hold, about the Moor
  His arms the good and bold Rogero wound;
  Against his left flank shoved his breast, and sore
  Strained him with all his strength engirdled round.
  At once he past his better leg before
  Rodomont's knees and pushed, and from the ground
  Uplifted high in air the Moorish lord;
  Then hurled him down head foremost on the sward.

  CXXXV
  Such was the shock wherewith King Rodomont
  With battered head and spine the champion smote,
  That, issuing from his wounds as from a font,
  Streams of red blood the crimsoned herbage float.
  Rogero, holding Fortune by the front,
  Lest he should rise, with one hand griped his throat,
  With one a dagger at his eyes addrest;
  And with his knees the paynim's belly prest.

  CXXVI
  As sometimes where they work the golden vein
  Within Pannonian or Iberian cave,
  In unexpected ruin whelm the train
  By impious avarice there condemned to slave,
  So with the load they lie opprest, with pain
  A passage can their prisoned spirit have:
  No less opprest the doughty paynim lay,
  Pinned to the ground in that disastrous fray.

  CXXXVII
  Rogero at his vizor doth present
  His naked poniard's point, with threatening cry,
  That he will slay him, save he yields, content
  To let him live, if he for grace apply.
  But Rodomont, who rather than be shent
  For the least deed of shame, preferred to die,
  Writhed, struggled, and with all his vigour tried
  To pull Rogero down, and nought replied.

  CXXXVIII
  As mastiff that below the deer-hound lies,
  Fixed by the gullet fast, with holding bite,
  Sorely bestirs himself and vainly tries,
  With lips besmeared with foam and eyes alight,
  And cannot from beneath the conqueror rise,
  Who foils his foe by force, and not despite;
  So vainly strives the monarch of Argier
  To rise from underneath the cavalier.

  CXXXIX
  Yet Rodomont so twists and strives, he gains
  The freedom of his better arm anew;
  And with the right hand, which his poniard strains,
  For he had drawn his deadly dagger too,
  Would wound Rogero underneath the reins:
  But now the wary youth the error knew
  Through which he might have died, by his delay
  That impious Saracen forthwith to slay;

  CXL
  And smiting twice or thrice his horrid front,
  Raising as high as he could raise in air
  His dagger, buried it in Rodomont;
  And freed himself withal from further care.
  Loosed from the more than icy corse, to font
  Of fetid Acheron, and hell's foul repair,
  The indignant spirit fled, blaspheming loud;
  Erewhile on earth so haughty and so proud.