XV.
He thinks he hears Angelica, and she
“Help, help!” entreating cries, and weeping sore,
“More than for life and soul, alas! of thee
“Protection for my honour I implore.
“Then shall it in my Roland’s presence be
“Ravished by this foul robber? Oh! before
“Me to such miserable fate you leave,
“Let me from your own hand my death receive!”
XVI.
These words repeated once, and yet again,
Made Roland through each chamber, far and near,
Return with passion, and with utmost pain;
But tempered with high hope. Sometimes the peer
Stopt in his search, and heard a voice complain,
Which seemed to be Angelica’s: if here
The restless warrior stand, it sounds from there,
And calls for help he knows not whence nor where.
XVII.
Returning to Rogero, left, I said,
When through a gloomy path, upon his steed,
Following the giant and the dame who fled,
He from the wood had issued on the mead;
I say that he arrived where Roland dread
Arrived before him, if I rightly read.
The giant through the golden portal passed,
Rogero close behind, who followed fast.
