He, prompt for battle, wheeled his courser round,
And for the tourney took sufficient ground.
Between those knights no further parley past:
Without more question, charged the martial two.
Rinaldo with the friendly troop stood fast,
And looked to see what issue would ensue.
“Him from his saddle will I quickly cast,
If firm the footing, and mine arm prove true;”
Within himself young Richardetto cries:
But that encounter ends in other wise.
Him underneath the vizor’s sight offends
The stranger champion, of the sable weed,
With force so fell, that he the youth extends
Above two lances’ length beyond his steed.
Quickly to venge the knight Alardo wends,
But falls himself astounded on the mead;
Sore handled, and unhorsed by such a stroke,
His buckler in the cruel shock is broke.
His lance Guichardo levelled, when he spied
Outstretched upon the field the brethren two;
Although “Halt, halt,” (renowned Rinaldo cried,)
“For this third course to me is justly due:”
But he as yet his helmet had not tied;
So that Guichardo to the combat flew.
He kept his seat no better than the twain;
Forthwith, like them, extended on the plain.
All to be foremost in the joust contend,
Richardo, Malagigi, Viviane:
But to their strife Rinaldo puts an end;
He shows himself in arms before the train,
Saying, “ ’Tis time that we to Paris wend;
For us too long the tourney will detain,
If I expect till each his course has run,
And ye are all unseated, one by one.”
So spake the knight, yet spake not in a tone
To be o’erheard in what he inly said;
Who thus foul scorn would to the rest have done.
Both now had wheeled, and fierce encounter made.
In the career Rinaldo was not thrown,
Who all the banded kinsmen much outweighed;
Their spears like brittle glass to pieces went,
But not an inch the champions backward bent.
The chargers such a rough encounter made,
That on his crupper sank each staggering horse:
Rinaldo’s rose so quick, he might be said
Scarcely to interrupt his rapid course:
The stranger’s broke his spine and shoulder-blade;
That other shocked him with such desperate force.
When his lord sees him slain, he leaves his seat,
And in an instant springs upon his feet;
And to his foe, that having wheeled anew,
Approached with hand unarmed, the warrior cried;
“Sir, to the goodly courser whom ye slew,
Because, whenas he lived, he was my pride,
I deem, I ill should render honour due,
If thus unvenged by my good arm he died;
And so fall on, and do as best ye may,
For we parforce must meet in new assay.”
To him Rinaldo, “If we for thy horse
Have to contend in fight, and nought beside,
Take comfort, for I ween that with no worse
Thou, in his place, by me shalt be supplied.”
—“Thou errest if thou deem’st his loss the source
Of my regret” (the stranger knight replied);
“But I, since thou divinest not my speech,
To thee my meaning will more plainly teach.
“I should esteem it were a foul misdeed,
Unless I proved thee also with the brand.
I, if thou in this other dance succeed
Better or worse than me, would understand:
Then, as it please, afoot or on thy steed,
Attack me, so it be with arms in hand.
I am content all vantage to afford;
Such my desire to try thee with the sword!”
Not long Rinaldo paused: he cried, “I plight
My promise not to balk thee of the fray;
And, for I deem thou art a valiant knight,
And lest thou umbrage take at mine array,
These shall go on before, nor other wight,
Beside a page, to hold my horse, shall stay.”
So spake Mount Alban’s lord; and to his band,
To wend their way the warrior gave command.
To that king paladin with praise replied
The stranger peer; alighting on the plain,
Rinaldo to the valet, at his side,
Consigned the goodly steed Bayardo’s rein,
And when his banner he no longer spied,
Now widely distant with the warrior’s train,
His buckler braced, his biting faulchion drew,
And to the field defied the knight anew.
And now each other they in fight assail:
Was never seen a feller strife in show.
Neither believes his foeman can avail,
Long, in that fierce debate, against his blow:
But when they knew, well neighed in doubtful scale,
That they were fitly matched, for weal or woe,
They laid their fury and their pride apart,
And for their vantage practised every art.
Their cruel and despiteous blows resound,
Re-echoing wide, what time the valiant twain
With cantlets of their shields now strew the ground,
Now with their faulchions sever plate and chain.
Yet more behoves to parry than to wound,
If either knight his footing would maintain;
For the first fault in fence, by either made,
Will with eternal mischief be appaid.
One hour and more than half another, stood
The knights in battle; and the golden sun
Already was beneath the tumbling flood,
And the horizon veiled with darkness dun:
Nor yet had they reposed, nor interlude
Had been, since that despiteous fight begun,
’Twixt these, whom neither ire nor rancour warms,
But simple thirst of fame excites to arms.
Rinaldo in himself revolving weighed
Who was the stranger knight, so passing stout;
That not alone him bravely had gainsaid,
But oft endangered in that deadly bout;
And has so harassed with his furious blade,
He of its final issue stands in doubt
—He that the strife was ended would be fain,
So that his knightly honour took no stain.
The stranger knight, upon the other side,
As little of his valiant foeman knew;
Nor in that lord Mount Alban’s chief descried,
In warfare so renowned all countries through.
And upon whom, with such small cause defied,
His faulchion he in deadly combat drew.
He was assured he could not have in fight
Experience of a more redoubted wight.
He gladly would be quit of the emprize
