Orlando Furioso (Rose)/Canto 9
THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.
CANTO IX.
ARGUMENT.
So far Orlando wends, he comes to where
He of old Proteus’ hears the cruel use;
But feels such pity for Olympia fair,
Wronged by Cymosco, who in prison mews
Her plighted spouse, that ere he makes repair
Further, he gives her hope to venge the abuse:
He does so, and departs; and with his spouse
Departs Bireno, to repeat his vows.
.
THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.
CANTO IX.
I.
What cannot, when he has a heart possess’d,
This false and cruel traitor Love? since he
Can banish from Orlando’s faithful breast
Such tried allegiance and due loyalty?
Wise, full of all regards, and of the blest
And glorious church the champion wont to be,
Now, little for himself or uncle, driven
By a vain love, he cares, and less for heaven.
II.
But I excuse him well, rejoiced to know
I have like partner in my vice: for still
To seek my good I too am faint and slow,
But sound and nimble in pursuit of ill.
The count departs, disguised in sable show,
Nor for so many friends, with froward will,
Deserted cares; and comes where on the plain
Are camped the hosts of Afric and of Spain;
III.
Rather uncamped: for, in less troops or more,
Rains under shed and tree had driven the band.
Here ten, there twenty, seven or eight, or four,
Nearer or further off, Orlando scanned.
Each sleeps, oppressed with toil and wearied sore;
This stretched on earth, that propped upon his hand:
They sleep, and many might the count have slain,
Yet never bared his puissant Durindane[1].
IV.
So generous is Orlando’s heart, he base
Esteems it were to smite a sleeping foe.
Now this he seeks, and now that other place;
Yet cannot track his lady, high or low.
If he finds any one in waking case,
Sighing, to him he paints her form and show;
Then prays him that for courtesy, he where
The damsel is, will teach him to repair.
V.
And when the day its shining light displaid,
He wholly searched the Moorish army through.
In that the gentle warrior was arraid
In Arab weeds, he this might safely do;
And of his purpose came alike in aid
That other tongues beside the French he knew;
And in the African so well was read,
He seemed in Tripoly one born and bred:
VI.
He sojourns there three days, the camp to see;
Still seeking nought beside: next up and down,
Within, without, both burgh and city he
Spies; nor surveys the realm of France alone;
But fair Auvergne, and even Gascony
Revisits, to its farthest little town.
Roves from Provence to Britany’s domain,
And from the Picards to the bounds of Spain.
VII.
Between October and November’s moon,
In that dull season when the leafy vest
Is stript from trembling plant, whose limbs are shown
Of all their mantling foliage dispossess’d,
And in close flights the swarming birds are flown,
Orlando enters on his amorous quest:
This he pursues the livelong winter through,
Nor quits when gladsome spring returns anew,
VIII.
As (such his wont) from land to land he goes,
A river’s side he reaches on a day;
Which to the neighbouring sea in quiet flows,
Bretons and Normans parting on its way:
But, swoln with mountain rain and melted snows,
Then thundered, white with foam and flashing-spray:
And with impetuous stream had overtopt
Its brim, and burst the bridge, and passage stopt.
IX.
The paladin this bank and the other eyed,
Along the river’s channel, to explore,
Since neither fish nor fowl, if from his side
He could gain footing on the adverse shore;
When, with a damsel in the poop, he spied
A ready pinnace that towards him bore:
She steered, as if she would approach the strand;
But would not let her shallop make the land.
X.
Steered not to land; as haply with suspicion
To take a lading, in her own despite.
To her the good Orlando made petition
To put him o’er the stream; and she: “No knight
“Passes this ferry, but upon condition
“He shall his faith and promise duly plight
“That he will do a battle, at my prayer,
“Upon the justest quarrel and most fair.
XI.
“So that if thou on the other shore to land
“Dost by my aid, Sir cavalier, desire,
“Promise me, ere the month which is at hand”
(The damsel so pursued her speech) “expire,
“That thou wilt join the Hibernian monarch’s band,
“Who forms a fair armada, in his ire,
“To sack Ebuda’s isle; of all compress’d
“By ocean’s circling waves, the cruellest.
XII.
“Know, beyond Ireland, in the briny flood,
“An island, amid many others, lies;
“Ebuda is its name; whose people rude
“(Such is their law), in search of plunder hies;
“And all the women that it takes, for food
“To a voracious animal supplies;
“Which every day to shore for this does speed,
“And finds new wife or maid whereon to feed:
XIII.
“For of these merchant still and Corsair sell
“A large supply, and most of those most fair.
“Reckoning one slain a-day, you thus may well
“Compute what wives and maids have perished there.
“But if compassion in your bosom dwell,
“Nor you to Love an utter rebel are,
“Be you contented with this band to wend,
“United for such profitable end.”
XIV.
To hear the whole Orlando scarce could bear,
Ere to be first in that emprize he swore[2],
As one who evil deed misliked to hear,
And with impatience like relation bore:
Hence first induced to think, and next to fear,
Angelica is captive on that shore:
Since he so long the missing maid pursues,
Nor of the damsel yet can gather news.
XV.
Breaking his every scheme, this phantasy
The troubled cavalier did so confound,
That with all speed to that fell island he
Resolved to navigate; nor yet the round
Of a new sun was buried in the sea,
Ere he a vessel at St. Malo’s found;
In which, embarking on his quest, the count
Put forth, and cleared that night St. Michael’s Mount[3].
XVI.
Breac and Landriglier[4] past on the left hand,
Orlando’s vessel skims the Breton shore;
Then shapes her course towards the chalky strand,
Whence England’s isle the name of Albion bore:
But the south wind, which had her canvas fanned,
Shifts to north-west, and freshening, blows so sore,
The mariners are fain to strike all sail,
And wear and scud before the boisterous gale.
XVII.
A distance traversed in four days, in one
Backwards the ceaseless wind the frigate bore:
The helmsman kept the sea, lest she should run
Aground, and break like glass upon the shore.
The wind upon the fifth day changed its tune,[5]
So loud and furious through the other four;
And let, without more strife, the vessel gain
A port, where Antwerp’s river met the main.
XVIII.
As soon as harboured there in shattered plight,
The weary mariners their frigate moor,
Out of a city, seated on the right
Of that fair stream, descends upon the shore,
As his gray hairs may warrant him, a wight
Stricken in years; who, full of courteous lore,
Turns to the county, after greetings due,
Reputing him the leader of that crew.
XIX.
And prays him, on a damsel’s part, ‘that he
‘To her would think not irksome to repair;
‘Whom of unequalled affability
‘And sweetness, he would find, as well as fair;
‘Or otherwise would be content, that she
‘Should to his bark resort, to seek him there,
‘Nor prove less pliant than had been before
‘All the knights errant, who had sought that shore:
XX.
‘For hitherto, by land or sea conveyed,
‘No cavalier had journeyed to that place
‘That had refused to parley with the maid,
‘And give her counsel in a cruel case.’
Orlando, hearing this, no more delayed,
But issued from the bark with hurried pace,
And, in all kind and courteous usage bred,
His way directed where the ancient led.
XXI.
With him did Roland to the city go,
And at the bottom of a palace-stair,
Conducted by that elder, full of woe
A lady found, if face may grief declare,
And sable cloth, with which (a mournful show)
Chamber, and hall, and gallery, furnished were;
Who, after honourable welcome paid,
Seated the paladin, and sadly said.
XXII.
“The daughter of the Count of Holland,” (cried
The lady) “know in me, Sir cavalier.
“Though not his only offspring (for beside
“Myself two brothers were) to him so dear,
“That, for whatever favour I applied,
“I never met refusal from the peer.
“I living gladly in this happy sort,
“A duke by chance was guested at our court;
XXIII.
“The Duke of Zealand, meaning for Biscay;
“With purpose there to war upon the Moor;
“His youth and beauty, then in manhood’s May,
“And force of love, unfelt by me before,
“Made me, with little strife, his easy prey:
“Persuaded by his outward cheer yet more,
“I thought, and think, and still shall think[6], the peer
“Loved me, and loves me yet with heart sincere.
XXIV.
“Those days, whenas the wind was contrary,
“(Which fair for me, if foul for others blew)
“To others forty seemed, an hour to me;
“So upon speedy wings the moments flew.
“This while, we oftentimes held colloquy,
“When, to be given with solemn right and due,
“I promised him, and he to me, his hand,
“On his return, in wedlock’s holy band.
XXV.
“Bireno hardly from our court was gone,
“For such the name my faithful lover bore,
“When Friesland’s king, whose realm is from our own
“No further than this stream from Ocean’s shore,
“Designing to bestow me on his son,
“Arbantes hight (the monarch had no more),
“To Holland sent the worthiest of his land,
“Me of the count, my father, to demand.
XXVI.
“I without power to falsify that vow,
“Which to my gentle lover I had plight;
“Nor though I had the power, would Love allow
“Me so to play the ingrate, if I might,
“(The treaty, well on foot, to overthrow,
“And nigh concluded) with afflicted sprite,
“Cried to my father, I would rather shed
“My very life-bloody than in Friesland wed.
XXVII.
“My gracious father, he who took but pleasure
“In what pleased me, nor would my will constrain;
“Marking my grief, broke off the intended measure,
“To give me comfort and relieve my pain.
“At this proud Friesland’s sovereign such displeasure
“Conceived, and entertained such high disdain;
“He entered Holland, and the war began,
“In which my kin were slaughtered to a man.
XXVIII.
“Besides, that both his puissance and his might
“Are such, as in our age are matched of few,
“Such is in evil deeds his cunning sleight,
“He laughs to scorn what wit and force can do.
“Strange arms he bears, unknown to any wight,
“Save him, of the ancient nations or the new:
“A hollow iron, two yards long, whose small
“Channel he loads with powder and a ball.
XXIX.
“He, where ’tis closed behind, in the iron round,
“Touches with fire a vent, discerned with pain;
“In guise that skilful surgeon tries his ground,
“Where need requires that he should breathe a vein.
“Whence flies the bullet with such deafening sound,
“That bolt and lightning from the hollow cane
“Appear to dart, and like the passing thunder,
“Burn what they smite, beat-down or rend asunder.
XXX.
“Twice broken, he our armies overthrew
“With this device, my gentle brethren slain;
“The first the shot in our first battle slew,
“Reaching his heart, through broken plate and chain;
“The other in the other onset, who
“Was flying from the fatal field in vain.
“The ball his shoulder from a distance tore
“Behind, and issued from his breast before.
XXXI.
“My father next, defending on a day
“The only fortress which he still possessed,
“The others taken which about it lay,
“Was sent alike to his eternal rest:
“Who going and returning, to purvey
“What lacked, as this or that occasion pressed,
“Was aimed at from afar, in privy wise,
“And by the traytour struck between the eyes.
XXXII.
“And I remaining, sire and brethren dead,
“The isle of Holland’s only heir, the king
“Of Friesland, who by the desire was led
“Of better there his power establishing,
“To me, and also to my people said,
“I peace and quiet to my state might bring,
“Would I (what I before would not accord)
“Now take his son Arbantes for my lord.
XXXIII.
“I, not so much for deadly hate I bear
“To him and all his kindred, by whose spite
“My sire and both my brothers slaughtered were,
“My country sacked and waste, as that the knight
“I would not wrong, to whom I fealty sware,
“And had my solemn word already plight
“That me to wedlock man should woo in vain,
“Till he to Holland should return from Spain,
XXXIV.
“For one ill-born, a hundred yet behind,
“Will bear (replied) to hazard all content,
“—Slain, burnt alive, to let them to the wind
“Scatter my ashes, rather than consent.—
“My people seek to move my stedfast mind,
“By prayer and by protest, from this intent;
“And threat to yield my city up and me,
“Lest all be lost through my obduracy.
XXXV.
“When in my fixt and firm resolve they read,
“That prayer and protest are alike in vain;
“My town and me, with Friesland’s king agreed,
“Surrendered, as they vowed, my vassal train.
“Not doing by me any shameful deed,
“Me he assured of life and of domain,
“So I would soften my obdurate mood,
“And be to wed with his Arbantes wooed.
XXXVI.
“I who would have consented to forego
“My life to scape from him, reflection made,
“That, save I first avenged myself, all woe
“Endured, would be by this regret outweighed.
“—Long time I muse, and to my misery know,
“’Tis only simulation which can aid.
“Not simple willingness, I feign, desire,
“To win his grace, and have him for my sire.
XXXVII.
“’Mid many in my father’s service, I
“Select two brothers fitted for my view,
“Of valiant heart and great ability
“But more approved for truth, as followers, who
“Bred in my father’s court, from infancy
“Had with myself grown up; the brothers two
“So wholly bound to me, they would have thought
“My safety with their lives was cheaply bought.
XXXVIII.
“To them I tell my project, and the pair
“Of brethren promise me their faithful aid:
“To Flanders this, a pinnace to prepare,
“I sent, and that with me in Holland stayed.
“Now, while both foreigners and natives were,
“Of Friesland’s kingdom, to our nuptials prayed,
“Bireno in Biscay (the tidings went)
“For Holland had equipt an armament.
XXXIX.
“Since on the issue of the earliest fray,
“When in the rout one hapless brother fell,
“I had dispatched a courier to Biscay,
“Who the sad news should to Bireno tell:
“While he toils sore his squadron to array,
“Proud Friesland’s arms our wretched remnant quell.
“Bireno, who knew nought of this, had weighed,
“And with his barks put forth to bring us aid.
XL.
“These tidings told to Friesland’s monarch, he
“Confiding to his son the wedding’s care,
“To meet Bireno’s squadron puts to sea,
“And (so chance willed) burns, sinks, or routs them there,
“Leading him off into captivity;
“But none to us as yet the tidings bear.
“This while I to the amorous youth am wed,
“Who, when the sun sought his, would seek my bed.
XLI.
“Behind the curtains, I had hid the tried
“And faithful follower, of whom I said,
“Who moved not till the bridegroom he descried,
“Yet waited not till he in bed was laid:
“But raised a hatchet, and so well applied
“Behind the stripling’s head the ponderous blade,
“Of speech and life it reft him; I, who note
“The deed, leap lightly up and cut his throat[7].
XLII.
“As falls the bullock upon shamble-sill,
“Thus fell the ill-starred stripling, in despite
“Of king Cymosco, worst among the ill;
“So was the impious king of Friesland hight,
“Who did my brothers and my father kill,
“And, in my state to found a better right;
“In wedlock wished to join me with his son;
“Haply to slay me when his end was won.
XLIII.
“Ere new disturbance interrupt the deed,
“Taking what costliest was and lightest weighed,
“Me my companion by a chord, with speed,
“Drops from a window, where with boat purveyed
“In Flanders (as related) for my need,
“His brother, watchful of our motions, stayed:
“We dip the oar, we loose the sail, and driven
“By both, escape, as was the will of Heaven.
XLIV.
“The daring feat achieved, I cannot say
“If Friesland’s king more sorrowed for his son,
“Or raged at me: he there arrived, the day
“Ensuing, where the dreadful deed was done.
“Proud he returned, both he and his array,
“Of the duke taken, and the victory won:
“And thought to feast and nuptials he was bound,
“But in his home all grief and darkness found.
XLV.
“His pity for his son, the hate he fed
“Towards me, torment the father day and night;
“But as lamenting will not raise the dead,
“And vengeance is a vent for smothered spite;
“That portion of his thoughts, which should have led
“The king, to ease by sighs his troubled sprite,
“Now willingly takes counsel with his hate,
“To seize me, and his vengeance satiate.
XLVI.
“All known or said to be my friends, or who
“Were friends of those that, chosen from my train,
“Had aided me the deadly deed to do,
“Their goods and chattels burnt, were doomed or slain:
“And he had killed Bireno, since he knew
“No other trouble could inflict such pain;
“But that he, saving him in malice, thought
“He had a net wherewith I might be caught.
XLVII.
“Yet him a cruel proposition made,
“Granting a year his purpose to complete;
“Condemned to privy death, till then delayed,
“Save in that time, through force or through deceit,
“He by his friends’ and kindred’s utmost aid,
“Doing or plotting, me from my retreat
“Conveyed into his prisons; so that he
“Can only saved by my destruction be.
XLVIII.
“What for his safety could be done, behold,
“Short of my own destruction, has been tried.
“Six towns I had in Flanders: these I sold,
“And (great or small the produce put aside)
“A part of it, to wily persons told,
“That it to tempt his guards might be applied;
“The rest of it dispensed to move and arm
“Germans or English, to the miscreant’s harm.
XLIX.
“My agents, whether they their trust betrayed,
“Or that they could in truth perform no more,
“Me with vain words instead of help have paid,
“And scorn me, having drained my scanty store:
“And now the term is nigh expired, when aid,
“Whether of open force or treasured ore,
“No longer will arrive in time to save
“My cherished spouse from torture and the grave.
L.
“Through him, from me was my dominion rent;
“Through him, my father and my brethren slain;
“Through him, the little treasure left me, spent
“(What served alone existence to sustain)
“To rescue him, in cruel durance pent;
“Nor other means to succour him remain;
“Save I, to liberate him from prison, go
“And yield myself to such a cruel foe.
LI.
“If nothing more be left me then to try,
“Nor other way for his escape appear,
“Than his with this my wretched life to buy,
“This life I gladly will lay down: one fear
“Alone molests me; and it is that I
“Can never my conditions make so clear,
“As to assure me, that with new deceit,
“Me, when his prey, the tyrant will not cheat.
LII.
“I fear, when I shall be in captive plight,
“And he has put all tortures upon me,
“He may not loose Bireno, and the knight
“Have not to thank me for his liberty:
“Like perjured king, and full of foul despite,
“Who with my murder will not satiate be;
“But by Bireno neither less nor more
“Will do, than he had done by me before.
LIII.
“The occasion now that I confer with you,
“And tell my case to all who seek the land,
“Both lords and knights, is with the single view,
“That taking counsel of so large a band,
“Some one may indicate assurance due,
“That when before the cruel king I stand,
“No longer he Bireno shall detain;
“Nor, after I am killed, the duke be slain.
LIV.
“Warrior to wend with me, I in my need,
“When I shall be to Friesland given, have prayed;
“But so he promise, that the exchange agreed
“Shall be between us in such manner made,
“That from his bonds Bireno shall be freed
“When I am to the monarch’s hands conveyed:
“Thus I, when I am slain, shall die content,
“Who to my spouse shall life by death have lent:
LV.
“Nor to this day have chanced upon a wight
“Who on his faith will give me warranty,
“That if the king refuse to loose the knight,
“When I am offered, from captivity,
“He will not suffer that in my despite
“(So feared those weapons!) I shall taken be.
“So feared those weapons, upon every hand!
“Which, howsoever thick, no plates withstand.
LVI.
“Now, if as strong Herculean port and bold
“Appear to vouch, such worth to you belong;
“And you believe to give me or withhold
“Is in your power, should he intend me wrong;
“Be with me, when committed to his hold,
“Since I shall fear not, in your convoy strong,
“When you are with me, that my lord, though I
“Be after slain, shall by his order die.”
LVII.
Here her discourse, wherewith were interposed
Loud sobs, the lady ceased, and silent stood:
Orlando, when her lips the damsel closed,
Whose ready will ne’er halts in doing good,
Briefly to her replies, as indisposed
To idle speeches of his natural mood:
But plights his solemn word, that better aid
She should from him receive than that she prayed.
LVIII.
’Tis not his scheme to place her in the hand
Of her foul foe, to have Bireno freed;
He will save both the lovers, if his brand
And wonted valour fail him not at need.
Embarked that very day, they put from land
With a clear sky and prosperous wind to speed.
The county hastes in his impatient heat,
Eager to reach that isle, the monster’s seat.
LIX.
Through the still deeps, on this or the other side,
The skipper veered his canvas to the wind:
This isle, and that of Zealand, they descried,
One seen before, and one shut in behind[8].
The third day, from the harboured vessel’s side,
In Holland, Roland disembarks, not joined
By the complaining dame; whom to descend
He wills not till she hear that tyrant’s end.
LX.
Armed at all points, the county passed ashore,
Borne on a horse ’twixt brown and black, the breed
Of Denmark, but in Flanders nurtured, more
Esteemed for weight and puissance than for speed:
For when the paladin embarked before,
In Brittany he left the gallant steed,
His Brigliador; so nimble and so fair,
That but Bayardo could with him compare.
LXI.
Orlando fares to Dordrecht, where he views
A numerous squadron, which the gate maintain;
As well, because suspicion still ensues
On the foundation of a new domain;
As that before they had received the news,
That out of Zealand, backed with armed train,
Was coming with a fleet of many sail,
A cousin of the lord here pent in jail.
LXII.
One, good Orlando to the monarch’s ear
Bade bear a message, ‘that an errant knight
‘On him would prove himself, with sword and spear;
‘But would lay down this pact before the fight:—
‘That if the king unhorsed the cavalier,
‘Her who Arbantes slew, he, as his right,
‘Should have, that, at the cavalier’s command,
‘Was ready for delivery to his hand;
LXIII.
‘And willed the king should on his side agree,
‘If him the knight in combat overbore,
‘Forthwith released from his captivity,
‘Bireno to full freedom to restore.’
To him the footman does his embassy;
But he, who knightly worth or courteous lore
Had never known, directs his whole intent
The count by treacherous fraud to circumvent.
LXIV.
He hopes as well, if he the warrior slay,
To have the dame, whom, so aggrieved, he hates,
If in the knight’s disposal, and the say
Of that strange knight, the footman well relates.
Hence thirty men dispatched by other way
Than to the portal led, where Roland waits;
Who with a long and privy circuit wind,
And come upon the paladin behind.
LXV.
He all this while had made his guard delay
The knight with words, till horse and foot he spied
Arrived, where he this ambuscade did lay;
When from the gate he with as many hied:
As is the practised hunter’s wonted way,
To circle wood and beasts on every side:
As nigh Volana, with his sweeping nets,
The wary fisher fish and pool besets[9].
LXVI.
’Tis thus the king bars every path which lies
Free for the warrior’s flight, with armed train:
He him alive, and in no other guise,
Would have, and lightly hopes his end to gain;
Nor for the earthly thunderbolt applies,
That had so many and so many slain:
Which here he deems would serve his purpose ill,
Where he desires to take and not to kill.
LXVII.
As wary fowler, bent on greater prey,
Wisely preserves alive the game first caught,
That by the call-bird and his cheating play[10],
More may within the circling net be brought;
Such cunning art Cymosco would assay:
But Roland would not be so lightly bought;
Like them by the first toil that springs betrayed;
And quickly forced the circle which was made.
LXVIII.
Where he perceives the assailants thickest stand,
He rests his lance, and sticks in his career
First one and afterwards another, and
Another, and another, who appear
Of paste; till six he of the circling band
Of foes impales upon a single spear;
A seventh left out, who by the push is slain,
Since the clogged weapon can no more contain.
LXIX.
No otherwise, upon the further shore
Of fosse or of canal, the frogs we spy,
By cautious archer, practised in his lore,
Smote and transfixed[11] the one the other nigh;
Upon the shaft, until it hold no more,
From barb to feathers full, allowed to lie.
The heavy lance Orlando from him flung,
And to close combat with his faulchion sprung.
LXX.
The lance now broke, his sword the warrior drew,
That sword which never yet was drawn in vain,
And still with cut or thrust some soldier slew;
Now horse, now footman of the tyrant’s train.
And, ever where he dealt a stroke, changed blue,
Yellow, green, white, and black, to crimson stain.
Cymosco grieves, when most his needs require,
Not to have now his hollow cane and fire;
LXXI.
And with loud voice and menacing command
Bids these be brought, but ill his followers hear;
For those who have found safety of his band,
To issue from the city are in fear.
He, when he sees them fly on either hand,
Would fly as well from that dread cavalier;
Makes for the gate, and would the drawbridge lift,
But the pursuing county is too swift.
LXXII.
The monarch turns his back, and leaves the knight
Lord of the drawbridge and of either gate.
Thanks to his swifter steed, the rest in flight
He passes: good Orlando will not wait
(Intent the felon, not his band, to smite)
Upon the vulgar herd to wreck his hate.
But his slow horse seems restive; while the king’s,
More nimble, flies as if equipt with wings.
LXXIII.
From street to street, before the count he made;
And vanished clean; but after little stay,
Came with new arms, with tube and fire purveyed;
Which, at his hest, this while his men convey.
And posted at a corner, he waylaid:
His foe, as hunter watches for his prey,
In forest, with armed dogs[12] and spear, attending
The boar in fury from the hill descending,
LXXIV.
Who rends the branch and overthrows the stone;
And wheresoe’er he turns his haughty front,
Appears (so loud the deafening crash and groan)
As if he were uprending wood and mount.
Intent to make him his bold deed atone,
Cymosco at the pass expects the count;
As soon as he appears, with ready light
Touches the hole, and fires upon the knight.
LXXV.
Behind, the weapon flames in lightning’s guise,
And vents the thunder from before; the ground
Shakes under foot and city wall; the skies
The fearful echo all about rebound.
The burning bolt with sudden fury flies,
Not sparing aught which in its course is found.
Hissing and whizzing through the skies it went;
But smote not, to the assassin’s foul intent.
LXXVI.
Whether it was his great desire to kill
That baron, or his hurry made him fail,
Or trembling heart, like leaf which flutters still,
Made hand and arm together flinch and quail;
Or that it was not the Creator’s will
The church so soon her champion should bewail[13];
The glancing stroke his courser’s belly tore,
Outstretched on earth, from thence to rise no more.
LXXVII.
To earth fall horse and rider: this the knight
Scarce touched; the other thundering pressed the plain:
For the first rose so ready and so light,
He from the fall seemed breath and force to gain.
As African Antëus, in the fight,
Rose from the sand with prouder might and main;
So when Orlando touched the ground, to view
He rose with doubled force and vigour new.
LXXVIII.
He who has seen the thunder, from on high,
Discharged by Jove with such a horrid sound,
Descend where nitre, coal[14], and sulphur lie,
Stored up for use in magazine profound,
Which scarce has reached—but touched it, ere the sky
Is in a flame, as well as burning ground,
Firm walls are split, and solid marbles riven,
And flying stones cast up as high as heaven;
LXXIX.
Let him imagine, when from earth he sprung,
Such was the semblance of the cavalier;
Who moved in mode to frighten Mars among
The Gods, so fierce and horrid was his cheer.
At this dismaid, the King of Friesland stung
His horse, and turned his rein, to fly the peer:
But fierce Orlando was upon his foe
Faster than arrow flies from bended bow:
LXXX.
And, what before he could not, when possest
Of his good courser, now afoot will do.
His speed outgoes all thought in every breast,
Exceeds all credence, save in those who view.
The tyrant shortly joined, he on the crest
Smote at his head so well, he cleft it through;
And to the neck divided by the blow,
Sent it, to shake its last on earth below.
LXXXI.
Lo! in the frighted city other sound
Was heard to rise, and other clash of brands,
From troop, who, thither in his guidance bound,
Followed Bireno’s cousin from his lands:
Who, since the unguarded gates he open found,
Into the city’s heart had poured his bands;
Where the bold paladin had struck such fear,
He without let might scour it far and near.
LXXXII.
In rout the people fly, who cannot guess
Who these may be, or what the foes demand:
But, when this man and that by speech and dress
As Zealand-men distinguishes the band,
Carte blanche[15] they proffer, and the chief address,
Bidding him range them under his command;
Against the Frieslanders to lend him aid,
Who have their duke in loathsome prison stayed.
LXXXIII.
To Friesland’s king that people hatred bore
With all his following; who their ancient lord
Had put to death, and who by them yet more,
As evil and rapacious, was abhorred.
Orlando interposed with kindly lore,
As friend of both, the parties to accord:
By whom, so joined, no Frieslander was left
But was of life or liberty bereft.
LXXXIV.
They would not wait to seek the dungeon-key,
But breaking-down the gate, their entrance made:
Bireno to the count with courtesy
And grateful thanks the service done repaid.
Thence they, together with large company,
Went, where Olympia in her vessel stayed:
For so was the expecting lady hight,
To whom that island’s crown belonged of right;
LXXXV.
She who had thither good Orlando brought,
Not hoping that he would have thriven so well:
—Enough for her, if by her misery bought,
Her spouse were rescued from the tyrant’s cell!—
Her, full of love and loyal homage, sought
The people one and all: ’Twere long to tell
How she caressed Bireno, he the maid,
What thanks both lovers to the county paid.
LXXXVI.
The people, throned in her paternal reign,
Replace the injured dame, and fealty swear:
She on the duke, to whom in solid chain
Love with eternal knot had linked the fair,
The empire of herself and her domain
Conferred: He, called away by other care,
Left in the cousin’s guardian care this while
His fortresses, and all the subject isle.
LXXXVII.
Since he to visit Zealand’s duchy planned,
His faithful consort in his company;
And thence, upon the king of Friesland’s land,
Would try his fortune (as he said), for he
A pledge, he rated highly, had in hand,
Which seemed of fair success the warranty,
The daughter of the king; who here forsaken,
With many others had been prisoner taken.
LXXXVIII.
To a younger brother, her, the duke pretends,
To be conjoined in wedlock, he conveyed.
The Roman senator[1] thence parting wends
Upon the very day Bireno weighed;
But he to nothing else his hand extends
Of all the many, many prizes made,
Save to that engine, found amid the plunder,
Which in all points I said resembled thunder.
LXXXIX.
Not with intent, in his defence to bear
What he had taken, of the prize possest;
For he still held it an ungenerous care
To go with vantage on whatever quest:
But with design to cast the weapon where
It never more should living wight molest:
And, what was appertaining to it, all
Bore off as well, the powder and the ball.
XC.
And thus, when of the tidesway he was clear,
And in the deepest sea his bark descried,
So that no longer distant signs appear
Of either shore on this or the other side,
He seized the tube, and said: “That cavalier
“May never vail through thee his knightly pride,
“Nor base be rated with a better foe,
“Down with thee to the darkest deep below!
XCI.
“O loathed, O cursed piece of enginery,
“Cast in Tartarean bottom, by the hand
“Of Beelzebub, whose foul malignity
“The ruin of this world through thee has planned!
“To hell, from whence thou came, I render thee[16].”
So said, he cast away the weapon: fanned
Meanwhile, with flowing sheet, his frigate goes,
By wind, which for the cruel island blows.
XCII.
Such was the paladin’s desire to explore
If in that place his missing lady were;
Whom he prefers the united world before,
Nor can an hour of life without her bear.
He fears, if he set foot on Ireland’s shore,
Some other chance may interrupt him there:
So that he after have in vain to say,
“Why hasted I no faster on my way?”
XCIII.
Nor he in England nor in Ireland port
Will make, nor on the coast that ’s opposite.
But let him go, the naked archer’s sport,
Sore smitten in the heart!—ere I indite
Yet more of him, to Holland I resort,
And you to bear me company invite.
For well I wot that you as well as me
’Twould grieve that bridal should without us be.
XCIV.
Sumptuous and fair the bridal there is made;
But neither yet so sumptuous nor so fair
As it will be in Zealand, it is said:
But ’tis not my design you should repair
Thither; since by new accidents delayed
The feast will be, of which be it my care,
In other strain, the tidings to report;
If you to hear that other strain resort.
- ↑ Orlando.
NOTES TO CANTO IX.
Yet never bared his puissant Durindane.
Stanza iii. line 8.
The name of Orlando’s sword.
To hear the whole Orlando scarce could bear,
Ere to be first in that emprize he swore.
Stanza xiv. lines 1 and 2.
This is quite consonant to the spirit of romances of chivalry, and so is indeed every thing in the poems of Boiardo and Ariosto. Thus the Orlando of the Innamorato, fighting with Agrican, grants him respite, that he may rally his troops; and even offers his services for that purpose against the very forces with which he was associated for Agrican’s destruction. Thus Rinaldo, in this poem, when in the execution of an embassy, neglects it, and embarks in an adventure which suspends the execution of a solemn and urgent duty. In the same spirit Orlando even delays his quest of his mistress, to succour this damsel, who was unknown to him; though Ariosto has ingeniously softened the extravagance of his conduct by making him reflect that in this expedition he might also serve his Angelica.
And cleared that night St. Micliael’s Mount.
Stanza xv. line 8.
Another reading of the original would make Orlando pass the night in St. Michael’s Mount: but I shall generally adopt that which appears to me the best, without stating my reasons for it, unless I should conceive there is some cause for explanation. Ariosto must here mean one of the many of St. Michael’s seats in Brittany, and not our Cornish “vision of the guarded Mount:” for St. Michael seems to have been a very favourite saint with the Celts of Brittany as well as those of Cornwall.
Breac and Landriglier, &c.
Stanza xvi. line 1.
I can no more explain what Ariosto means by these names, which, as having a Welsh or Breton sound, may be supposed real, than former commentators could what Milton had in view when he spoke of Namancos, which he places on the Spanish coast, opposite to St. Michael’s Mount in Cornwall. But as Namancos has been found in an old map of Spain, so Breac and Landriglier may perhaps be discovered in one of France.
Somewhat changed its tune.
Stanza xvii. line 5.
In the original,
alquanto cangiò metro.
I thought, and think, and still shall think, &c.
Stanza xxiii. line 7.
The want of inflection in our tenses precluded a nearer approach to the original, of which I have sought to imitate the tone.
lo credea, e credo, e creder credo il vero.
which again is an imitation of Dante’s
“lo credo ch’ ei credette ch’ io credessi.”
Inf. Cant. XIII.
I, who note
The deed, leap lightly up and cut his throat.
Stanza xli. lines 7 and 8.
This piece of ferocity, which might seem inconsistent with such a character as that of Olympia, in any age, convinces me that this incident of the story, which seems to have been made up of many parts, had a foundation in truth. Credo quia impossibile est. I am, however, unable to discover any traces of it anterior to Ariosto’s poem. At any rate, the reader will regret that such a trait of brutality was either invented or copied by Ariosto. It is, however, a mere act of justice to observe that he seems to have repented making a Judith of Olympia: for among the alterations of the Furioso, vouched by Galasso, as the intended emendations of his brother Ludovico, the original line
‘Io saltai presto e gli segai la gola,’
is changed to
‘Poi saltò presto e gli segò la gola,’
the poet thus transferring the consummation of the murder to the servant who had struck down the bridegroom. But even admitting this correction, there is a daring spirit in the woman which is repugnant to our notions of feminine softness, and I cannot help thinking that the interest which she excites, is, in a great degree, owing to the beautiful picture which we have of her when stripped for sacrifice, and fastened to the rock. She is like the Athenian courtezan who, when her cause was going ill, dropped her clothes, and stood naked before her judges.
This isle, and that of Zealand, they descried,
One seen before, and one shut in behind.
Stanza lix. lines 3 and 4.
Ariosto is here accurate in his geography, in which he almost always observes that of his age. His precision on such points (as where he illustrates the relative position of Alcina’s and Logistilla’s territories by the boundaries of England and Scotland) is the more remarkable, as he is, I believe, the first among the moderns, who made a study of such proprieties. What is more, he certainly was the first, either among ancients or moderns, who, in a wider sense of the word, studied what is now called costume, as in his description of a Scottish chief in a future canto, &c. &c.
At nigh Volana, with his sweeping nets,
The wary fisher fith and pool besets.
Stanza lxv. lines 7 and 8.
Volana, not far distant from Ferrara, is one of the mouths of the Po, in which the fish take refuge, and from which their return is intercepted by a net, resembling the Seine.
As wary fowler, bent on greater prey,
Wisely preserves alive the game first caught,
That by the call-bird and his cheating play,
More may within the circling net be brought.
Stanza lxvii. lines 1, 2, 3, 4.
In the original,
Qual cauto uccellator, che serba vivi
Intento à maggior preda, i primi augelli,
Perchè in più quantitade altri captivi
Faccia col gioco e col zimbel di quelli.
The zimbello of the text is a bird used to decoy others, which, together with the birds first taken, is, in Italy, confined with a string, and by the fowler’s play made to leap up and flutter; which attracts the notice of the wild birds, who join them, and are taken. I have seen this practice in Tuscany, where it is styled the paretajo. It is, I believe, called the roccolo in Lombardy, and is common in Germany, and probably in other parts of the continent. When I witnessed it, we were shut up in a small room about eight feet square, nearly buried in the ground, from the surface of which just enough of the top of the building projected, to allow of a small window being made in it. From this we saw the sport. Among some hornbeams, as thickly planted as those we see in a nursery garden, and about as high, were tied the decoy-birds, and when any others visited them, we pulled the string of a clap-net, which closed upon the prey.
No otherwise, upon the further shore
Of fosse or of canal, the frogs we spy,
By cautious archer, practised in his lore,
Smote and transfixed, &c.
Stanza lxix. lines 1, 2, 3, 4.
The frog-hunter has changed his weapons, and frogs are now fished for in Italy.
As hunter watches for his prey,
In forest, with armed dogs.
Stanza lxxiii. lines 6 and 7.
I suppose with collars armed with spikes, as may yet be seen on the wolf-dogs in parts of Switzerland.
Or that it was not the Creator’s will
The church so soon her champion should bewail.
Stanza lxxvi. lines 5 and 6.
Had Ariosto lost sight of Orlando’s invulnerability, save in the sole of his foot, or is he to be defended for such an apparent oversight by a reference to the Innamorato, which represents the count as not insensible to contusions, though his skin is impenetrable?
Descend where nitre, coal, and sulphur lie.
Stanza lxxviii. line 3.
In the original,
Carbon, zolfo e con salnitro, &c.
I may possibly be blamed for translating carbon coal; but the English word coal, in its true signification, means charcoal, in which sense it is used by Lord Bacon; what we now term coal being formerly termed seacoal, as it is now named by the Italians, carbon’ fossile. But it may be said to me, with reference to other places, besides this, why imitate the trecentisti of Italy, and turn back to pick up
‘Phrase which Time has flung away?’
I answer, that I stand in a very different position from these authors, and that I should not do what they are doing, if writing an original poem on a modern subject; but to seek my phraseology in English authors nearest to the time of Ariosto, seems to me to be the best mode of avoiding one of the rocks on which the late translator of Ariosto has split, the awakening modern associations. To this it maybe added, that certain terms of art and of chivalry, &c. can only be rendered by equivalents, to be found in the language of those days. Indeed I may go further, and say that many of the most familiar modes of expression in old Italian authors can only be precisely translated by cotemporary English terms; owing to the writers of the Elizabethan age having formed their phraseology so closely upon Italian models. It is upon this principle that I have ventured to render sossopra by its exact equivalent of upside-down, the use of which I conceived to be justified by the translation of the psalms and Bible; and indeed I have usually the authority of this or some other works, unexceptionable in point of language, for such old words as I have employed, nor have I used one Spenserian expression, which is not borne out by the adoption of some other and surer warranty. I say this because Spenser is not always a safe guide in the use of words, of which lie coined many and misapplied others, the exact meaning of which he did not understand.
Carte blanche they proffer.
Stanza lxxxii. line 5.
In the original ‘foglio bianco;’ for which I cannot find any English equivalent.
To hell, from which thou came, I render thee.
Stanza xci. line 5.
I have here, and sometimes elsewhere, in according the second person plural of a verb with the second person singular of the pronoun thou, also imitated our older poets, who (like the Italians) make little sacrifices of grammar for the sake of euphony. It is a strange truth that our language (though this is perhaps true of all languages) should have grown harsher and our verse less harmonious in proportion as both have been cultivated. As to the little licence often taken by these our earlier poets, in thus breaking that vile alliance of the st, the opprobrium of our language, there is yet one distinguished modern who seems to have a due horror of a sound which might hiss an Italian into madness, and who, I believe, always takes the sting out of the tail of such words as amongst and amidst.
For the passage in the original; I may observe, that if Milton, as Mr. Foscolo, in his lectures, ingeniously suggested, was indebted to Pulci for the dignified character which he, improving gloriously upon his model, has given the Devil, he certainly took the idea of ascribing to him the invention of artillery from this passage of Ariosto, whatever may be the worth of the thing borrowed. An Italian critic justly remarks how entirely the poet, in his simple but exact description of an arquebuss, has put himself in the place of one to whom fire-arms are new.