No less did Bradamant upon the rest;
But them her spear reduced to other pass.
All touched by that gold lance she overthrew;
Doubling Marphisa’s score; yet none she slew.
They witness to each others’ exploits are,
(Those maids to one another are so near)
Then, whither fury drives, the martial pair,
Dividing, through the Moorish ranks career.
Who could each several warrior’s name declare,
Stretched on the champaign by that golden spear?
Or reckon every head Marphisa left
Divided by her horrid sword, or cleft?
As when benigner winds more swiftly blow,
And Apennine his shaggy back lays bare,465
Two turbid torrents with like fury flow,
Which, in their fall, two separate channels wear,
Uproot hard rocks, and mighty trees which grow
On their steep banks, and field and harvest bear
Into the vale, and seem as if they vied
Which should do mightiest damage on its side:
So those high-minded virgin warriors two,
Scowering the field in separate courses, made
Huge havock of the Moors; whom they pursue
One with couched lance, and one with lifted blade.
Hardly King Agramant his Afric crew
From flight, beneath his royal banners stayed:
In search of Rodomont, he vainly turned;
Nor tidings of the missing warrior learned.
He at his exhortation (so he trowed)
Had broke the treaty made in solemn wise,
To witness which the gods were called aloud;
Who then so quick vanished from his eyes:
Nor sees he King Sobrino; disavowed
By King Sobrino is the deed, who flies
To Arles, and deems that day some vengeance dread
Will fall on Agramant’s devoted head.
Marsilius too is fled into the town:
So has that monarch holy faith at heart.
’Tis hence, that feebly King Troyano’s son
Resists the crew, that war on Charles’s part,
Italians, English, Germans; of renown
Are all; and, scattered upon every part,
Are mixed the paladins, those barons bold,
Glittering like jewels on a cloth of gold;
And, with those peers, is more than one confest
As perfect as is earthly cavalier,
Guide the savage, that intrepid breast,
And those two famous sons of Olivier.
I will not now repeat what I exprest
Of that fierce, daring female twain whilere;
Who on the field so many Moors extend,
No number is there to the slain or end.
But, putting this affray some while aside,
Without a pinnace will I pass the sea.
To them of France so fast I am not tied,
But that Astolpho should remembered be:
Of the grace given him by his holy guide
I told erewhile, and told (it seems to me)
Branzardo and the king of Algaziers
Against the duke had mustered all their spears.
Such as the monarchs could in haste engage,
Raked from all Africa, that host contained;
Whether of fitting or of feeble age;
Scarce from impressing women they refrained,
Resolved his thirst of vengeance to assuage,
Agramant twice his Africa had drained.466
Few people in the land were left, and they
A feeble and dispirited array.
So proved they; for the foe was scarce in view,
Before that levy broke in panic dread:
Like sheep, their quailing bands Astolpho slew,
Charging at his more martial squadrons’ head;
And with the slain filled all that champaign; few
Into Biserta from the carnage fled.
A prisoner valiant Bucifar remained;
The town in safety King Branzardo gained;
More grieved as Bucifaro’s loss alone,
Than had he lost the rest in arms arrayed.
Wide and in want of ramparts is the town;
And these could ill be raised without his aid.
While fain to ransom him, he thinks upon
The means, and stands afflicted and dismayed,
He recollects him how the paladin,
Dudon, has many a month his prisoner been.
Him under Monaco, upon the shore,
In his first passage, Sarza’s monarch took.
Thenceforth had been a prisoner evermore
Dudon, who was derived of Danish stock.
The paladin against the royal Moor
Branzardo thought, in this distress, to truck;
And knowing through sure spy, Astolpho led
The Nubians, to that chief the offer sped.
A paladin himself, Astolpho knows
He gladly ought a paladin to free;
And when that case the Moorish envoy shows,
To King Branzardo’s offer does agree.
Dudon from prison loosed, his thanks bestows;
And whatsoe’er pertains to land or sea,
Bestirs him to accomplish, in accord
With his illustrious chief, the English lord.
Astolpho leading such a countless band
As might have well seven Africas opprest,
And recollecting ’twas the saint’s command,
Who upon him whilere imposed the quest,
That fair Provence and Aquamorta’s strand
He from the reaving Saracen should wrest,
Made through his numerous host a second draught
Of such as least inapt for sea he thought;
And filling next as full as they could be
His hands with many different sorts of leaves,
Plucked from palm, olive, bay and cedar tree,
Approached the shore, and cast them on the waves.
Oh blessed souls! Oh great felicity!
O grace! which rarely man from God receives;
O strange and wondrous miracle, which sprung
Out of those leaves upon the waters flung!
They wax in number beyond all esteem;
Becoming crooked and heavy, long, and wide.
Into hard timber turn and solid beam,
The slender veins that branch on either side:
Taper the masts; and, moored in the salt stream,
All in a thought transformed to vessels, ride;
And of as diverse qualities appear,
As are the plants, whereon they grew whilere.
It was a miracle to see them grown
To galliot, galley, frigate ship, and boat;
Wondrous, that they with tackling of their own,
Are found as well as any barks afloat.
Nor lack there men to govern them, when blown
By blustering winds—from islands not remote—
Sardinia or Corsica, of every rate,
Pilot and patron, mariner and mate.
Twenty-six thousand were the troop that manned
Those ready barks of every sort and kind.
To Dudon’s government, by sea or land
A leader sage, the navy was consigned;
Which yet lay anchored off the Moorish
