XXXIX.
I could not say what mischiefs these offend;
One dies, and one departs without its tail;
Another crippled cannot move an-end,
And wriggling wreathes its length without avail:
While this, whom more propitious saints befriend,
Safe through the grass drags off its slimy trail.
Dire was the stroke; yet should no wonder breed,
Since good Orlando’s arm achieved the deed.
XL.
Those whom the board had little maimed or nought,
(Turpin[6] says there were seven) in craven wise,
Their safety in their feet, yet vainly, sought;
For to the cavern’s door Orlando hies.
And having them without resistance caught,
Past with a rope their hands behind them ties;
A rope, which in the cavern on the ground,
Convenient for his purpose he had found.
XLI.
He after drags them- bound without the cave,
Where an old service-tree its shadow throws.
Orlando lops the branches with his glaive,
And hangs the thieves, a banquet for the crows:
Nor chain and crook for such a deed did crave:
For ready hooks the tree itself bestows,
To purge the world; where by the chin up-hung,
These, on the branches, bold Orlando strung.
