CANTO VIII.
THE ORLANDO FURIOSO.
61
XLVIII.
A pocket at the ancient’s side was dight,
Where he a cruise of virtuous liquor wore;
And at those puissant eyes, whence flashed the light
Of the most radiant torch Love ever bore,
Threw from the flask a little drop, of might
To make her sleep : upon the sandy shore
Already the recumbent damsel lay,
The greedy elder’s unresisting prey.
XLIX.
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L.
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Hopeless, at length upon the beach he lies,
And by the maid, exhausted, falls asleep.
When to torment him new misfortunes rise:
Fortune does seldom any measure keep;
Unused to cut her cruel pastime short,
If she with mortal man is pleased to sport.
