Held on the pommel grappled by his hair,
Brunello on Marphisa’s courser lies;
The caitiff weeps, and shrieking in despair,
On all in whom he hopes, for succour cries.
In such confusion is Troyano’s heir,
He sees no way through these perplexities;
And, that Marphisa thence Brunello bore
In such a guise, yet grieved the monarch more.
Not that he loved the losel or esteemed,
Rather to him some time had borne despite;
And often had to hand the caitiff schemed,
Since he had forfeited the ring of might.
But here his honour touched the monarch deemed,
So that his visage reddened at the slight:
He would, in person, follow her at speed,
And to his utmost power avenge the deed.
But the wise king, Sobrino, who was by,
Him from the quest endeavoured to dissuade,
And “that with his exalted majesty
Such enterprise were ill assorted,” said:
“Although firm hope, nay full security,
He had to overcome that martial maid,
If he with pain subdued a woman, shame,
Rather than honour, would pursue his name.
“Small profit and much peril would succeed
From any fight he should with her maintain,”
(And he advised him) “as the better deed,
To leave that wretched caitiff to his pain;
And albeit but a simple nod should need
To free him, from that nod he should refrain.
In that the monarch would do ill to force
Even-handed Justice from her destined course.”
“Thou to the fierce Marphisa may’st apply
To leave his trial (he pursued) to thee,
With promise, her in this to satisfy
And to suspend him from the gallows-tree
And even should the maid thy prayer deny,
Let her in every wish contented be:
And rather than that she desert thy side,
Let her hang him and every thief beside.”
Right willingly King Agramant gave way
To King Sobrino’s counsel sage and staid;
And let renowned Marphisa wend her way,
Nor scathed he, nor let scathe, that martial maid,
Neither endured that any her should pray;
And heaven knows with what courage he obeyed
That wise advice, to calm such ruder strife
And quarrel, as throughout his camp were rife.
At this mad Discord laughed, no more in fear
That any truce or treaty should ensue;
And scowered the place of combat there and here,
Nor could stand still, for pleasure at the view.
Pride gamboled and rejoiced with her compeer,
And on the fire fresh food and fuel threw,
And shouted so that Michael in the sky
Knew the glad sign of conquest in that cry.
Paris-town rocked, and turbid ran the flood
Of Seine at that loud voice, that horrid roar;
And, so it echo rang in Arden’s wood,
Beasts left their caverns in that forest hoar.
Alp and Cevenne’s mountain-solitude,
And Blois, and Arles, and Rouen’s distant shore,
Rhine, Rhone, and Saône, and Garonne, heard the pest;
Scared mothers hugged their children to their breast.
Five have set up their rest, resolved to be
The first their different quarrels to conclude:
And tangled so is one with other plea,
That ill Apollo’s self could judge the feud.334
To unravel that first cause of enmity
The king began—the strife which had ensued,
Because of beauteous Doralice, between
The king of Scythia335 and her Algerine.
King Agramant oft moved, between the pair,
Now here now there, to bring them to accord;
Now there now here, admonishing that pair,
Like faithful brother and like righteous lord:
But when he found that neither would forbear,
Deaf and rebellious to his royal word,
Nor would consent that lady to forego,
The cause of strife, in favour of his foe,
As his best lore, at length the monarch said,
And to obey his sentence both were fain;
“That he who was by her preferred, should wed
The beauteous daughter of King Stordilane:
And that what was established on his head
Should not be changed, to either’s loss or gain.”
The compromise was liked on either side,
Since either hoped she would for him decide.
The mighty king of Sarza, who long space
Before the Tartar, had loved Doralice,
(Who had preferred that sovereign to such grace
As modest lady may, nor do amiss)
Believed, when she past sentence on the case,
She must pronounce what would ensure his bliss.
Nor thus alone King Rodomont conceived,
But all the Moorish host with him believed.
All know what exploits wrought by him had been
For her in joust and war; they all unsound
And weak King Mandricardo’s judgment ween;
But he, who oft was with her on their round,
And oftener private with the youthful queen,
What time the tell-tale sun was under ground,
He, knowing well how sure he was to speed,
Laughed at the silly rabble’s idle creed.
They, after, ratify the king’s award,
Between his hands, and next the suitors twain
Before that damsel go, that on the sward
Fixing her downcast eyes, in modest vein,
Avows her preference of the Tartar lord;
At which sore wondering stand the paynim train;
And Rodomont remains so sore astound,
He cannot raise his visage from the ground.
But wonted anger chasing shame which dyed
The Sarzan’s face all over, he arraigned
The damsel’s sentence, of the faulchion, tied
About his manly waist, the handle strained,
And in the king’s and others’ hearing cried:
“By this the question shall be lost or gained;
And not by faithless woman’s fickle thought,
Which thither still inclines, where least it ought.”
Kind Mandricardo on his feet once more,
Exclaims, “And be it as it pleases thee.”
So that ere yet the vessel made the shore
Unploughed remained a mighty space of sea;
But that this king reproved the Sarzan sore,
Ruling, “that to appeal upon that plea
No more with Mandricardo could avail,”
And made the moody Sarzan strike his sail.
Branded with double scorn, before those peers,
By noble Agramant, whose sovereign sway
He, as in loyal duty bound, reveres,
And by his lady on the selfsame day,
There will no more the monarch of Algiers
