Seeing herself so high in air, loud cried,
(Yielding herself for dead) that bonnibel.
Her palfrey, with the Daemon for his guide,
After his leap, runs, goaded by the spell
(The maid still screaming) such a furious course,
An arrow had not reached the flying horse.
At the first hearing of that voice, the son
Of Ulien, on his part, the strife suspended;
And thither, where the furious palfrey run,
Swiftly in succour of the lady wended.
No less was by the Tartar monarch done;
Who neither Child nor damsel more offended;
But without craving time, or truce, or peace,
Pursued King Rodomont and Doralice.
Marphisa rose meanwhile, to fury stirred;
And, with disdain all over in a glow,
Thought to accomplish her revenge, and erred:
For at too great a distance was the foe.
Rogero, who beheld the war deferred,
Rather like lion roared than sighed: well know
Those two their coursers they should vainly gore,
Following Frontino and good Brigliador.
Rogero will not halt till he renew
And end the unfinished combat for the horse;
Marphisa will not quit that Tartar, who
Will to her satisfaction prove his force.
To leave their quarrel in such guise the two
Esteem foul scandal; as their better course,
In chase of those offending knights to fare,
Is the conclusion of that valiant pair.
They in the paynim camp will find each foe,
If them before they find not on their way;
Whom thither bound, to raise the siege they know,
Ere Charlemagne bring all beneath his sway.
So thitherward the twain directly go
Where these, they deem, will be their certain prey.
Yet not so rudely thence Rogero broke,
But that he first with his companion spoke.
Thither returns Rogero, where apart
Is he, the brother of his lady fair;
And vows himself his friend, with generous heart,
In good or evil fortune, everywhere.
Him he implores—and frames his speech with art—
“He his salutes will to his sister bear;”
And this so well; he moves by that request
No doubt in him, nor any of the rest.
Of Malagigi he and Viviane
Next takes farewell and wounded Aldigier;
Their services no less that kindly twain
Proffer, as ever debtors to the peer.
Marphisa to seek Paris is so fain,
That parting she forgets her friends to cheer;
But Malagigi and Vivian, in pursuit,
Follow, and from afar that maid salute;
And so Sir Richardet as well: but low
On earth lies Aldigier, and there must rest.
The two first champions318 towards Paris go,
And the two others319 next pursue that quest.
In other canto, Sir, I hope to show
Of wondrous and of superhuman gest,
Wrought to the damage of the Christian king,
By those two couples of whose worth I sing.
Canto XXVII
By good Rogero and those paynims three
Defeated, Charlemagne to Paris flies.
Already all, throughout their chivalry,
Are mad with spite and hatred; jars arise,
And strife; and means to still their enmity
Their sovereign is unable to devise.
From him departs the monarch of Argier,
Who is rejected of his lady dear.
A woman for the most part reasons best
Upon a sudden motion, and untaught;
For with that special grace the sex is blest,
’Mid those so many gifts, wherewith ’tis fraught;
But man, of a less nimble wit possest,
Is ill at counsel, save, with sober thought,
He ruminates thereon, content to spend
Care, time and trouble to mature his end.
That seemed good counsel, but was ill indeed
Of Malagigi’s, as before was said;
Albeit he so rescued in his need
His cousin Richardet, with odds o’erlaid,
When from the paynim monarchs him he freed
By ready demon, who his hest obeyed;
For sure he never deemed they should be borne,
Where they would work the Christian army scorn.
Had he some little prize for counsel stayed,
(We with the same success may well suppose)
He to his cousin might have furnished aid,
Yet brought not on the Christian host their foes:
That evil sprite he might as well have made,
Him, who embodied in the palfrey goes,
Eastward or west, so far that lady bear,
That France should hear no further of the pair.
So the two lovers, following her who flies,
To other place than Paris might be brought:
But this calamity was a surprise
On Malagigi, through his little thought;
And fiendish malice, banished from the skies,
Which ever blood and fire and ravage sought,
Guided them by that way to Charles’ disaster;
Left to his choice by him, the wizard master.
The wayward fiend who makes that palfrey ramp
Bears off the frighted Doralice amain;
Nor river nor yet yawning ditch, or swamp,
Wood, rock, or rugged cliff, the steed restrain;
Till, traversing the French and English camp,
And other squadrons of the mingled train,
Beneath the holy flag of Christ arrayed,
He to Granada’s king the fair conveyed.
The Sarzan and the Tartar the first day
That royal damsel a long while pursue;
Because her distant form they yet survey;
But finally they lose that lady’s view;
When, like a lyme-dog, whom the hunters lay
On hare or roebuck’s trail, the valiant two
Follow upon her track, nor halt, till told
That she is harboured in her father’s hold.
Guard thyself, Charles: for, lo! against thee blown
Is such a storm, that I no refuge see:
Nor these redoubted monarchs come alone,
But those of Sericane and Circassy;
While Fortune, who would probe thee to the bone,
Has taken those two shining stars from thee,
Who kept thee by their wisdom and their light;
And thou remainest blind and wrapt in night.
’Tis of the valiant cousins320 I would speak:
Of these, Orlando of his wit bereft,
Naked, in sun or shower, by plain or peak,
Wanders about the world, a helpless weft;
And he, in wisdom little less to seek,
Rinaldo, in thy peril thee has
