Orlando Furioso (Rose)/Canto 6
THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.
CANTO VI.
ARGUMENT.
Ariodantes has, a worthy meed,
With hit loved bride, the fief of Albany.
Meantime Rogero, on the flying steed,
Arrives in false Alcina’s empery:
There from a myrtle-tree her every deed,
A human myrtle hears, and treachery,
And thence would go; but they who first withdrew
Him from one strife, engage him in a new.
THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.
CANTO VI.
I.
Wretched that evil man who lives in trust
His secret sin is safe in his possession!
Since, if nought else, the air, the very dust
In which the crime is buried, makes confession[1],
And oftentimes his guilt compels the unjust,
Though sometime unarraigned in worldly session,
To be his own accuser, and bewray,
So God has willed, deeds hidden from the day.
II.
The unhappy Polinesso hopes had nursed,
Wholly his secret treason to conceal,
By taking off Dalinda, who was versed
In this, and only could the fact reveal;
And adding thus a second to his first
Offence, but hurried on the dread appeal,
Which haply he had shunned, at least deferred;
But he to self-destruction blindly spurred.
III.
And forfeited estate, and life, and love
Of friends at once, and honour, which was more.
The cavalier unknown, I said above,
Long of the king and court entreated sore,
At length the covering helmet did remove,
And showed a visage often seen before,
The cherished face of Ariodantes true,
Of late lamented weeping Scotland through;
IV.
Ariodantes, whom with tearful eye
His brother and Geneura wept as dead,
And king, and people, and nobility:
Such light his goodness and his valour shed.
The pilgrim therefore might appear to lie
In what he of the missing warrior said.
Yet was it true that from a headland, he
Had seen him plunge into the foaming sea.
V.
But, as it oft befalls despairing wight,
Who grisly Death desires till he appear;
But loathes what he had sought, on nearer sight;
So painful seems the cruel pass and drear.
Thus, in the sea engulphed, the wretched knight,
Repentant of his deed, was touched with fear;
And, matchless both for spirit and for hand,
Beat back the billows, and returned to land.
VI.
And, now despising, as of folly bred,
The fond desire which did to death impell,
Thence, soaked and dripping wet, his way did tread,
And halted at a hermit’s humble cell:
And housed within the holy father’s shed,
There secretly awhile designed to dwell;
Till to his ears by rumour should be voiced,
If his Geneura sorrowed or rejoiced.
VII.
At first he heard that, through excess of woe,
The miserable damsel well-nigh died:
For so abroad the doleful tidings go,
’Twas talked of in the island, far and wide:
Far other proof than that deceitful show,
Which to his cruel grief he thought he spied!
And next against the fair Geneura heard
Lurcanio to her sire his charge preferred:
VIII.
Nor for his brother felt less enmity
Than was the love he lately bore the maid;
For he too foul, and full of cruelty,
Esteemed the deed, although for him essayed;
And, hearing after, in her jeopardy,
That none appeared to lend the damsel aid,
Because so puissant was Lurcanio’s might,
All dreaded an encounter with the knight,
IX.
And that who well the youthful champion knew,
Believed he was so wary and discreet,
That, had what he related been untrue,
He never would have risqued so rash a feat,
—For this the greater part the fight eschew,
Fearing in wrongful cause the knight to meet—
Ariodantes (long his doubts are weighed)
Will meet his brother in Geneura’s aid.
X.
“Alas! (he said) I cannot bear to see
“Thus by my cause the royal damsel die;
“My death too bitter and too dread would be,
“Did I, before my own, her death descry;
“For still my lady, my divinity
“She is;—the light and comfort of my eye.
“Her, right or wrong, I cannot choose but shield,
“And for her safety perish in the field,
XI.
“I know I choose the wrong, and be it so!
“And in the cause shall die: nor this would move;
“But that, alas! my death, as well I know,
“Will such a lovely dame’s destruction prove.
“To death I with one only comfort go,
“That, if her Polinesso bears her love,
“To her will manifestly be displayed,
“That hitherto he moves not in her aid.
XII.
“And me, so wronged by her, the maid shall view
“Encounter death in her defence; and he,
“My brother, who such flames of discord blew,
“Shall pay the debt of vengeance due to me.
“For well I ween to make Lurcanio rue
“(Informed of the event) his cruelty,
“Who will have thought to venge me with his brand,
“And will have slain me with his very hand.”
XIII.
He, having this concluded in his thought,
Made new provision of arms, steed, and shield;
Black was the vest and buckler which he bought,
Where green and yellow striped the sable field[2]:
By hazard found, with him a squire he brought,
A stranger in that country; and, concealed
(As is already told) the unhappy knight,
Against his brother came, prepared for fight.
XIV.
The issue of the event was told above;
How prince and people Ariodantes knew.
Nor less delight the Scottish king did prove
Than when the knight the accuser overthrew:
Within himself he thought that never love
In man was shown so constant and so true;
Who, though so foully wronged, prepared to stake
His life against his brother’s for her sake:
XV.
And yielding to his natural inclination,
And at the suit of all his court beside,
And mostly at Rinaldo’s instigation,
Assigned the youth the damsel as his bride.
Albany’s duchy, now in sequestration,
Late Polinesso’s, who in duel died,
Could not be forfeited in happier hour;
Since this the monarch made his daughter’s dower.
XVI.
Rinaldo for Dalinda mercy won;
Who from her fault’s due punishment went free.
She, satiate of the world, (and this to shun,
The damsel so had vowed) to God will flee:
And hence, in Denmark’s land, to live a nun[3],
Straight from her native Scotland sailed the sea.
But it is time Rogero to pursue,
Who on his courser posts the welkin through.
XVII.
Although Rogero is of constant mind,
Nor from his cheek the wonted hues depart,
I ween that faster than a leaf i’ the wind
Fluttered within his breast the stripling’s heart.
All Europe’s region he had left behind
In his swift course; and, issuing in that part,
Passed by a mighty space, the southern sound
Where great Alcides fixed the sailor’s bound[4].
XVIII.
That hypogriph, huge fowl, and strange to sight,
Bears off the warrior with such rapid wing,
He would have distanced, in his airy flight,
The thunder-bearing bird of Æther’s king:
Nor other living creature soars such height,
Him in his mighty swiftness equalling.
I scarce believe that bolt, or lightning flies,
Or darts more swiftly from the parted skies.
XIX.
When the huge bird his pinions long had plied,
In a straight line, without one stoop or bend,
He, tired of air, with sweeping wheel and wide,
Began upon an island to descend;
Like that fair region, whither, long unspied[5]
Of him, her wayward mood did long offend,
Whilom in vain, through strange and secret sluice,
Passed under sea the Virgin Arethuse.
XX.
A more delightful place, wherever hurled
Through the whole air, Rogero had not found:
And, had he ranged the universal world,
Would not have seen a lovelier in his round,
Than that, where, wheeling wide, the courser furled
His spreading wings, and lighted on the ground,
’Mid cultivated plain, delicious hill,
Moist meadow, shady bank, and crystal rill.
XXI.
Small thickets, with the scented laurel gay,
Cedar, and orange, full of fruit and flower,
Myrtle and palm, with interwoven spray,
Pleached in mixed modes, all lovely, form a bower;
And, breaking with their shade the scorching ray,
Make a cool shelter from the noontide hour.
And nightingales among those branches wing
Their flight, and safely amorous descants sing.
XXII.
Amid red roses and white lilies there,
Which the soft breezes freshen as they fly,
Secure the cony haunts, and timid hare,
And stag, with branching forehead broad and high.
These, fearless of the hunter’s dart or snare,
Feed at their ease, or ruminating lie;
While, swarming in those wilds, from tuft or steep
Dun deer or nimble goat, disporting, leap.
XXIII.
When the hyppogriph above the island hung,
And had approached so nigh that landscape fair,
That, if his rider from the saddle sprung,
He might the leap with little danger dare,
Rogero lit the grass and flowers among,
But held him, lest he should remount the air;
And to a myrtle, nigh the rolling brine,
Made fast, between a bay-tree and a pine.
XXIV.
And there, close-by where rose a bubbling fount,
Begirt with fertile palm and cedar-tree,
He drops the shield, the helmet from his front
Uplifts, and, either hand from gauntlet free,
Now turning to the beach, and now the mount,
Catches the gales which blow from hill or sea,
And, with a joyous murmur, lightly stir
The lofty top of beech, or feathery fir:
XXV.
And, now, to bathe his burning lips he strains;
Now dabbles in the crystal wave, to chase
The scorching heat which rages in his veins,
Caught from the heavy corslet’s burning case.
Nor is it marvel if the burden pains;
No ramble his in square or market-place!
Three thousand miles, without repose, he went,
And still, at speed, in ponderous armour pent.
XXVI.
Meanwhile the courser by the myrtle’s side,
Whom he left stabled in the cool retreat,
Started at something in the wood descried,
Scared by I know not what; and in his heat
So made the myrtle shake where he was tied,
He brought a shower of leaves about his feet;
He made the myrtle shake and foliage fall,
But, struggling, could not loose himself withal.
XXVII.
As in a stick to feed the chimney rent,
Where scanty pith ill fills the narrow sheath,
The vapour, in its little channel pent,
Struggles, tormented by the fire beneath;
And, till its prisoned fury find a vent,
Is heard to hiss and bubble, sing and seethe:
So the offended myrtle inly pined,
Groaned, murmured, and at last unclosed its rind:
XXVIII.
And hence a clear, intelligible speech[6]
Thus issued, with a melancholy sound;
“If, as thy cheer and gentle presence teach,
“Thou courteous art and good, his rein unbound,
“Release me from this monster, I beseech:
“Griefs of my own inflict sufficient wound:
“Nor need I, compassed with such ills about,
“Other new pain to plague me from without.”
XXIX.
At the first sound, Rogero turns to see
Whence came the voice, and, in unused surprise,
Stands, when he finds it issues from the tree;
And swiftly to remove the courser hies.
Then, with a face suffused with crimson, he
In answer to the groaning myrtle, cries;
“Pardon! and, whatsoe’er thou art, be good,
“Spirit of man, or goddess of the wood!
XXX.
“Unweeting of the wonderous prodigy
“Of spirit, pent beneath the knotty rind,
“To your fair leaf and living body I
“Have done this scathe and outrage undesigned.
“But not the less for that, to me reply,
“What art thou, who, in rugged case confined,
“Dost live and speak? And so may never hail
“From angry heaven your gentle boughs assail!
XXXI.
“And if I now or ever the despite
“I did thee can repair, or aid impart,
“I, by that lady dear, my promise plight,
“Who in her keeping has my better part,
“To strive with word and deed, till thou requite
“The service done with praise and grateful heart.”
Rogero said; and, as he closed his suit,
That gentle myrtle shook from top to root.
XXXII.
Next drops were seen to stand upon the bark,
As juice is sweated by the sapling-spray,
New-severed, when it yields to flame and spark,
Sometime in vain kept back and held at bay.
And next the voice began; “My story dark,
“Forced by thy courteous deed, I shall display;
“What once I was by whom, through magic lore,
“Changed to a myrtle on the pleasant shore.
XXXIII.
“A peer of France, Astolpho was my name[7],
“Whilom a paladin, sore feared in fight;
“Cousin I was to two of boundless fame,
“Orlando and Rinaldo. I by right
“Looked to all England’s crown; my lawful claim
“After my royal father, Otho hight.
“More dames than one my beauty served to warm,
“And in conclusion wrought my single harm.
XXXIV.
“Returning from those isles, whose eastern side
“The billows of the Indian ocean beat,
“Where good Rinaldo and more knights beside
“With me were pent in dark and hollow seat,
“Thence, rescued by illustrious Brava’s pride[1],
“Whose prowess freed us from that dark retreat,
“Westward I fared along the sandy shores,
“On which the stormy north his fury pours.
XXXV.
“Pursuing thus our rugged journey, we
“Came (such our evil doom) upon the strand;
“Where stood a mansion seated by the sea:
“Puissant Alcina owned the house and land.
“We found her, where, without her dwelling, she
“Had taken on the beach her lonely stand;
“And though nor hook nor sweeping net she bore,
“What fish she willed, at pleasure drew to shore.
XXXVI.
“Thither swift dolphins gambol, inly stirred,
“And open-mouthed the cumbrous tunnies leap;
“Thither the seal or porpus’ wallowing herd
“Troop at her bidding, roused from lazy sleep;
“Raven-fish, salmon, salpouth, at her word,
“And mullet hurry through the briny deep.
“With monstrous backs above the water, sail
“Ork, physeter, sea-serpent, shark, and whale[8].
XXXVII.
“There we behold a mighty whale, of size[9]
“The hugest yet in any waters seen:
“More than eleven paces, to our eyes,
“His back appears above the surface green:
“And (for still firm and motionless he lies,
“And such the distance his two ends between)
“We all are cheated by the floating pile,
“And idly take the monster for an isle.
XXXVIII.
“Alcina made the ready fish obey
“By simple words and by mere magic lore:
“Born with Morgana[10]—but I cannot say
“If at one birth, or after or before.
“As soon as seen, my aspect pleased the fay;
“Who showed it in the countenance she wore:
“Then wrought with art, and compassed her intent,
“To part me from the friends with whom I went.
XXXIX.
“She came towards us with a cheerful face,
“With graceful gestures, and a courteous air,
“And said; ‘so you my lodging please to grace,
‘Sir cavalier, and will with me repair,
‘You shall behold the wonders of my chace,
‘And note the different sorts of fish I snare;
‘Shaggy or smooth, or clad in scales of light,
‘And more in number than the stars of night:
XL.
‘And would you hear a mermaid sing so sweet,
‘That the rude sea grows civil at her song,
‘Wont at this hour her music to repeat,
(With that she showed the monster huge and long
—I said it seemed an island—as her seat)
‘Pass with me where she sings the shoals among.’
“I, that was always wilful, at her wish,
“I now lament my rashness, climb the fish.
XLI.
“To Dudon and Rinaldo’s signal blind,
“I go, who warn me to misdoubt the fay.
“With laughing face Alcina mounts behind,
“Leaving the other two beside the bay.
“The obedient fish performs the task assigned,
“And through the yielding water works his way.
“Repentant of my deed, I curse the snare,
“Too far from land my folly to repair.
XLII.
“To aid me swam Mount Alban’s cavalier[2],
“And was nigh drowned amid the waves that rise;
“For a south-wind sprang up that, far and near
“Covered with sudden darkness seas and skies.
“I know not after what befel the peer:
“This while Alcina to console me tries,
“And all that day, and night which followed, me
“Detained upon that monster in mid-sea,
XLIII.
“Till to this isle we drifted with the morn,
“Of which Alcina keeps a mighty share;
“By that usurper from a sister torn,
“Who was her father’s universal heir:
“For that she only was in wedlock born,
“And for those other two false sisters were
“(So well-instructed in the story, said
“One who rehearsed the tale) in incest bred.
XLIV.
“As these are practised in iniquity,
“And full of every vice and evil art;
“So she, who ever lives in chastity,
“Wisely on better things has set her heart.
“Hence, leagued against her, in conspiracy,
“Those others are, to drive her from her part:
“And more than once their armies have o’errun
“Her realm, and towns above a hundred won.
XLV.
“Nor at this hour a single span of ground
“Would Logistilla (such her name) command,
“But that a mountain here, and there a sound,
“Protects the remnant from the invading band.
“’Tis thus the mountain and the river bound
“England, and part it from the Scottish land.
“Yet will the sisters give their foe no rest,
“Till of her scanty remnant dispossest.
XLVI.
“Because in wickedness and vice were bred
“The pair, as chaste and good they loath the dame.
“But, to return to what I lately said,
“And to relate how I a plant became;
“Me, full of love, the kind Alcina fed
“With full delights; nor I a weaker flame
“For her, within my burning heart did bear,
“Beholding her so courteous and so fair.
XLVII.
“Clasped in her dainty limbs, and lapt in pleasure,
“I weened that I each separate good had won,
“Which to mankind is dealt in different measure,
“Little or more to some, and much to none.
“I evermore contemplated my treasure,
“Nor France nor aught beside I thought upon:
“In her my every fancy, every hope
“Centered and ended as their common scope.
XLVIII.
“By her I was as much beloved, or more;
“Nor did Alcina now for other care;
“She left her every lover; for before,
“Others, in truth, the fairy’s love did share:
“I was her close adviser evermore;
“And served by her, where they commanded were.
“With me she counselled, and to me referred;
“Nor, night nor day, to other spake a word.
XLIX.
“Why touch my wounds, to aggravate my ill,
“And that, alas! without the hope of cure?
“Why thus the good possessed remember still,
“Amid the cruel penance I endure?
“When kindest I believed Alcina’s will,
“And fondly deemed my happiness secure,
“From me the heart she gave, the fay withdrew,
“And yielded all her soul to love more new.
L.
“Late I discerned her light and fickle bent,
“Still loving and unloving at a heat:
“Two months, I reigned not more, no sooner spent,
“Than a new paramour assumed my seat;
“And me, with scorn, she doomed to banishment,
“From her fair grace cast out. ’Tis then I weet
“I share a thousand lovers’ fate, whom she
“Had to like pass reduced, all wrongfully.
LI.
“And these, because they should not scatter bruits,
“Roaming the world, of her lascivious ways,
“She, up and down the fruitful soil, transmutes
“To olive, palm, or cedar, firs or bays.
“These, as you see me changed, Alcina roots;
“While this transformed into a monster strays;
“Another melts into a liquid rill;
“As suits that haughty fairy’s wanton will.
LII.
“Thou, too, that to this fatal isle art led
“By way unwonted and till now unknown,
“That some possessor of the fairy’s bed,
“May be for thee transformed to wave or stone,
“Thou shalt, with more than mortal pleasures fed,
“Have from Alcina seigniory and throne;
“But shalt be sure to join the common flock,
“Transformed to beast or fountain, plant or rock.
LIII.
“I willingly to thee this truth impart,
“Not that I hope with profit to advise:
“Yet ’twill be better, that informed, in part,
“Of her false ways, she harm not by surprise.
“Perhaps, as faces differ, and in art
“And wit of man an equal difference lies,
“Thou may’st some remedy perchance apply
“To the ill, which thousand others could not fly.”
LIV.
The good Rogero, who from Fame had learned
That he was cousin to the dame he wooed,
Lamented much the sad Astolpho, turned
From his true form, to barren plant and rude:
And for her love, for whom so sore he burned,
Would gladly serve the stripling if he cou’d:
But, witless how to give the wished relief,
Might but console the unhappy warrior’s grief.
LV.
As best he could, he strove to soothe his pain;
Then asked him, if to Logistil’s retreat
Were passage, whether over hill or plain;
That he might so eschew Alcina’s seat.
—‘There was a way,’ the myrtle said again,
—‘But rough with stones, and rugged to the feet—
‘If he, some little further to the right,
‘Would scale the Alpine mountain’s very height:
LVI.
‘But that he must not think he shall pursue
‘The intended journey far; since by the way
‘He will encounter with a frequent crew,
‘And fierce, who serve as rampart to the fay,
‘That block the road against the stranger, who
‘Would break her bounds, and the deserter stay.’
Rogero thanked the tree for all, and taught,
Departed thence with full instructions fraught.
LVII.
The courser from the myrtle he untied.
And by the bridle led behind him still;
Nor would he, as before, the horse bestride,
Lest he should bear him off against his will:
He mused this while how safely he might find
A passage to the land of Logistil;
Firm in his purpose every nerve to strain,
Lest empire over him Alcina gain.
LVIII.
He to remount the steed, and through the air
To spur him to a new career again
Now thought; but doubted next, in fear to fare
Worse on the courser, restive to the rein.
“No, I will win by force the mountain-stair,”
Rogero said; (but the resolve was vain)
Nor by the beach two miles his way pursued,
Ere he Alcina’s lovely city viewed.
LIX.
A lofty wall at distance meets his eye
Which girds a spacious town within its bound;
It seems as if its summit touched the sky,
And all appears like gold from top to ground.
Here some one says it is but alchemy,
—And haply his opinion is unsound—
And haply he more wittily divines:
For me; I deem it gold because it shines.
LX.
When he was nigh the city-walls, so bright,
The world has not their equal, he the straight
And spacious way deserts, the way which dight
Across the plain, conducted to the gate;
And by that safer road upon the right,
Strains now against the mountain; but, in wait,
Encounters soon the crowd of evil foes,
Who furiously the Child’s advance oppose.
LXI.
Was never yet beheld a stranger band[11],
Of mien more hideous, or more monstrous shape.
Formed downwards from the neck like men, he scanned
Some with the head of cat, and some of ape;
With hoof of goat that other stamped the sand;
While some seemed centaurs, quick in fight and rape;
Naked, or mantled in outlandish skin,
These doting sires, those striplings bold in sin.
LXII.
This gallops on a horse without a bit;
This backs the sluggish ass, or bullock slow;
These mounted on the croup of centaur sit;
Those perched on eagle, crane, or estridge, go.
Some male, some female, some hermaphrodit’,
These drain the cup and those the bugle blow.
One bore a corded ladder, one a hook;
One a dull file, or bar of iron shook.
LXIII.
The captain of this crew, which blocked the road,
Appeared, with monstrous paunch and bloated face;
Who a slow tortoise for a horse bestrode,
That passing sluggishly with him did pace:
Down looked, some here, some there, sustained the load,
For he was drunk, and kept him in his place.
Some wipe his brows and chin from sweat which ran,
And others with their vests his visage fan.
LXIV.
One, with a human shape and feet, his crest,
Fashioned like hound, in neck and ears and head,
Bayed at the gallant Child with angry quest,
To turn him to the city whence he fled.
“That will I never, while of strength possessed
“To brandish this,” the good Rogero said:
With that his trenchant faulchion he displayed,
And pointed at him full the naked blade.
LXV.
That monster would have smote him with a spear,
But swiftly at his foe Rogero sprung,
Thrust at his paunch, and drove his faulchion sheer
Through his pierced back a palm; his buckler flung
Before him, and next sallied there and here:
But all too numerous was the wicked throng.
Now grappled from behind, now punched before,
He stands, and plies the crowd with warfare sore.
LXVI.
One to the teeth, another to the breast,
Of that foul race he cleft; since no one steeled
In mail, his brows with covering helmet dressed,
Or fought, secured by corslet or by shield;
Yet is he so upon all quarters pressed,
That it would need the Child, to clear the field,
And to keep off the wicked crew which swarms,
More than Briareus’ hundred hands and arms.
LXVII.
If he had thought the magic shield to show,
(I speak of that the necromancer bore,
Which dazed the sight of the astonished foe,
Left at his saddle by the wizard Moor)
That hideous band, in sudden overthrow,
Blinded by this, had sunk the knight before.
But haply he despised such mean as vile,
And would prevail by valour, not by guile.
LXVIII.
This as it may: the child would meet his fate,
Ere by so vile a band be prisoner led;
When, lo! forth-issuing from the city’s gate,
Whose wall appeared like shining gold I said,
Two youthful dames, not born in low estate,
If measured by their mien and garb, nor bred
By swain, in early wants and troubles versed;
But amid princely joys in palace nursed!
LXIX.
On unicorn was seated either fair,
A beast than spotless ermine yet more white;
So lovely were the damsels, and so rare
Their garb, and with such graceful fashion dight,
That he who closely viewed the youthful pair,
Would need a surer sense than mortal sight,
To judge between the two. With such a mien
Embodied grace and beauty would be seen.
LXX.
Into the mead rode this and the other dame,
Where the foul crew opposed the Child’s retreat.
The rabble scattered as the ladies came,
Who with extended hand the warrior greet.
He, with a kindling visage, red with shame,
Thanked the two damsels for their gentle feat;
And was content upon their will to wait,
With them returning to that golden gate.
LXXI.
Above, a cornice round the gateway goes,
Somedeal projecting from the colonnade,
In which is not a single part but glows,
With rarest gems of India overlaid.
Propp’d at four points, the portal did repose
On columns of one solid diamond made.
Whether what met the eye was false or true,
Was never sight more fair or glad to view.
LXXII.
Upon the sill and through the columns there,
Ran young and wanton girls, in frolic sport;
Who haply yet would have appeared more fair,
Had they observed a woman’s fitting port.
All are arrayed in green[12], and garlands wear
Of the fresh leaf. Him these in courteous sort,
With many proffers and fair mien entice.
And welcome to this opening Paradise:
LXXIII.
For so with reason I this place may call,
Where, it is my belief, that Love had birth;
Where life is spent in festive game and ball,
And still the passing moments fleet in mirth.
Here hoary-headed Thought ne’er comes at all,
Nor finds a place in any bosom. Dearth,
Nor yet Discomfort, never enter here,
Where Plenty fills her horn throughout the year.
LXXIV.
Here, where with jovial and unclouded brow,
Glad April seems to wear a constant smile,
Troop boys and damsels: One, where fountains flow,
On the green margin sings in dulcet style;
Others, the hill or tufted tree below,
In dance, or no mean sport the hours beguile.
While this, who shuns the revellers’ noisy cheer,
Tells his love sorrows in his comrade’s ear.
LXXV.
Above the laurel and the pine-tree’s height,
Through the tall beech and shaggy fir-tree’s spray,
Sport little loves, with desultory flight:
These, at their conquests made, rejoiced and gay:
These, with the well-directed shaft, take sight
At hearts, and those spread nets to catch their prey:
One wets his arrows in the brook which winds,
And one on whirling stone the weapon grinds.
LXXVI.
To good Rogero here was brought a steed,
Puissant and nimble, all of sorel hue;
Who was caparisoned with costly weed,
Broidered with gold, and jewels bright to view.
That other winged horse, which, at his need,
Obedient to the Moorish wizard flew,
The friendly damsels to a youth consigned,
Who led him at a slower pace behind.
LXXVII.
That kindly pair who, by the wicked band
Offended late, had saved the youthful knight;
The wicked crew, that did the Child withstand,
When he the road had taken on his right,
Exclaimed, “Fair sir, your works already scanned
“By us, who are instructed of your might,
“Embolden us, in our behalf, to pray
“You will the prowess of your arm assay.
LXXVIII.
“We soon shall reach a bottom which divides
“The plain into two parts: A cruel dame
“A bridge maintains, which there a stream bestrides,
“Eriphila the savage beldam’s name;
“Who cheats, and robs, and scathes, whoever rides
“To the other shore, a giantess in frame;
“Who has long poisonous teeth her prey to tear,
“And scratches with her talons like a bear.
LXXIX.
“Besides that she infests the public way,
“Which else were free; she often ranging through
“All this fair garden, puts in disarray
“This thing or that. Of the assassin crew,
“That people who without the portal gay,
“Lately with brutal rage assaulted you,
“Many her sons, the whole her followers call,
“As greedy and inhospitable all.”
LXXX.
“For you not only her I would assail,
“But do a hundred battles, well content:
“Then of my person, where it may avail,
“Dispose (Rogero said) to your intent.
“Silver and land to conquer, plate or mail
“I wear not, I, in warlike cuirass pent;
“But to afford my aid to others due;
“And, most of all, to beauteous dames like you.”
LXXXI.
Their grateful thanks the ladies, worthily
Bestowed on such a valiant champion, paid:
They talking thus the bridge and river see,
And at her post the haughty dame arraid
(Sapphire and emerald decked the panoply)
In arms of gold: but I awhile delay
Till other strain the issue of the fray.
NOTES TO CANTO VI.
the air, the very dust
In which the crime is buried, makes confession.
Stanza i. lines 3 and 4.
Perhaps suggested by Juvenal’s
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“Nocte quidem; sed luna videt, sed sidera testes
“Intendunt oculos.”
Black was the vest and buckler which he bought,
Where green and yellow striped the sable field.
Stanza xiii. lines 3 and 4.
Much importance, during the middle ages, and those which immediately followed, was attached to colours, as emblematical of character or situation. Hence Ariodantes chooses black, and the hue of the “sear and yellow leaf,” as symbolical of his forlorn condition.
———in Denmark’s land to live a nun.
Stanza xvi. line 5.
In the original Dazia; a name which is given to many northern countries. As, among others, I find it applied to Denmark, I have followed the commentator, nearest to the time of Ariosto, who conceives that such was the meaning of his author, in so interpreting it.
Where great Alcides fixed the sailor’s bound.
Stanza xvii. line 8.
Translated from Dante’s
“Ove Ercole segnò li suoi riguardi.”
Like that fair region, whither, long unspied
Of him. her wayward mood did long offend,
Whilom in vain, through strange and secret sluice,
Passed under sea the Virgin Arethuse.
Stanza xix. lines 5, 6, 7, 8.
“Arethusa (as may be read in Lempriere’s Classical Dictionary) was a nymph of Elis, daughter of Oceanus, and one of Diana’s attendants. As she returned one day from hunting, she sat near the Alpheus, and bathed in the stream. The god of the river was enamoured of her, and pursued her, when Arethusa, ready to sink under fatigue, prayed to Diana, who changed her into a fountain. Alpheus immediately mingled his streams with hers, and Diana opened a secret passage under the earth and under the sea, where the waters of Arethusa disappeared, rising in the island of Ortygia, near Syracuse, in Sicily. The river Alpheus, too, followed her under the sea, and rose also in Ortygia; so that, as mythologists relate, whatever is thrown into the Alpheus in Elis, rises again, after some time, in the fountain of Arethusa near Syracuse.”
As in a stick to feed the chimney rent,
- Where scanty pith ill fills the narrow sheath,
- The vapour, in its little channel pent,
- Struggles, tormented by the fire beneath;
- And, till its prisoned fury find a vent,
- Is heard to hiss and bubble, sing and seethe:
- So the offended myrtle inly pined,
- Groaned, murmured, and at last unclosed its rind:
Stanza xxvii.
And hence a clear, intelligible speech
- Thus issued.
Stanza xxviii. lines 1 and 2.
For the beginning of the first stanza cited, the author is again indebted to Dante. I cannot here agree with one of his commentators in the opinion that he has improved the image of his original by expanding i : I think, on the contrary, though Ariosto’s stanza is a very pretty one, that the idea has suffered from dilation. Dante says (applying the simile also to a limb torn from a man, transformed into a tree)
Come d’un stizzo verde ch’ arco sia
Da l’un de’ lati, che da l’ altro geme,
E cigola per vento, che và via
L’Inferno, canto xiii.
As a brand yet green,
Which burning at one end from the other sends
A groaning sound, and hisses with the wind
That forces out its way.
Carey’s Translation.
Where Rogero also offers, if in his power, to compensate the myrtle for the injury he had inflicted, Ariosto has followed Dante, describing the same prodigy, in his xiiith canto. Both imitated Virgil in the main fact; but Ariosto in the end of the xxviith and the beginning of the xxviiith stanza, had Ovid also in his eye, from whom those passages are translated. The lines imitated are
Contremuit, gemitumque dedit decidua quercus;
and afterwards,
Editus et medio sonus est de robore talis.
A peer of France, Astolpho was my name.
Stanza xxxiii. line 1.
Astolpho’s transformation into a tree is certainly an improvement of the story of Polydore in Virgil, which is ridiculous, if considered as a natural phenomenon. But magic gets rid of all difficulties. Ariosto is supposed to have selected the myrtle as sacred to Venus, and, therefore, figurative of Astolpho’s propensities. If the poet had this in his eye, he seems to have punished Astolpho rather according to the character by which he is distinguished in the Innamorato than that in which he appears in the Furioso. This, indeed, is not the only case in which Ariosto has forgot the difference of colouring which he had given to his copy of Boiardo’s picture. Had Boiardo, for instance, dispatched Astolpho to the moon, in search of his own wits as well as Orlando’s, he might have been considered as most appropriately selected for such a mission; but this employment appears rather an undeserved satire upon the sober-minded Astolpho of the Furioso. It is rather a curious circumstance that Boiardo should have chosen an English prince as the most perfect representative of the Gascon; and seems to confirm what I have maintained in my introduction to the Innamorato, respecting Boiardo’s having been indebted to previous romances for many of his characters. The individuality, indeed, which distinguishes these would lead us to suppose that these romancers drew from story; and the half-lights which have reached us tend to confirm the supposition. Thus Orlando (as I have said in my notes to the first canto) is to be found in the Latin chronicles of the middle ages, under the names of Rutlandus and Ruitlandus. Renaud de Montauban, or Riualdo di Mont’ Albano, we learn also, from early story, was a border Castellain, and his character tallies with his situation in society.
Ork, physeter, &c.
Stanza xxxvi. line 8.
The ork (orca) as mentioned here and afterwards in canto viii, is some ideal sea-monster. In a future canto an ork (orco) is described as a Cyclops.
I have the authority of Motteux, who, “though his name offends a British ear,” is an admirable master of English, for the word physeter.
There we beheld a mighty whale, &c.
Stanza xxxvii. line 1.
Every thing in Ariosto, as before said, is construed into some secret sense. The fishes, described in a preceding stanza, are all said to denote the different conditions of men who are snared by vice, and the whale is interpreted as a fallacious appearance, which is often mistaken for real happiness.
Born with Morgana.
Stanza xxxviii. line 3.
For an account of this fairy, see the Innamorato, where she plays a very conspicuous part.
Was never yet beheld a stranger band, &c.
Stanza lxi. line 1.
The captain of this strange crew is Indolence, the source of all evils. His various followers, so fantastically and precisely painted, are evidently various vices distinguished by peculiarities which have not been, and perhaps cannot now be, satisfactorily explained. Eriphila, who afterwards appears, is Avarice, who guards the path that leads to pleasure. By the beautiful damsels who employ Rogero to defeat, and not to slay her, and who rescue him from the deformed rabble, against whom he was contending, is signified, we are told, that though a generous disposition will resist foul and undisguised vice, it often yields readily to temptation, which is masqued under fairer appearances.
All are arrayed in green, and garlands wear.
Stanza lxxii. line 5.
Here again colour is significant: green was the symbol of fickleness, as blue was the characteristic of constancy.
END OF VOL. I.