Toward Ravenna with the falling flood:
Then last arrives where, conqueror o’er his foes
Orlando was, but in no joyful mood.
He, that the Child a Christian made whilere,
Christens Sobrino, and heals Olivier.
O execrable avarice! O vile thirst
Of sordid gold! it doth not me astound
So easily thou seizest soul, immersed
In baseness, or with other taint unsound;
But that thy chain should bind, amid the worst,
And that thy talon should strike down and wound
One that for loftiness of mind would be
Worthy all praise, if he avoided thee.
Some earth and sea and heaven above us square,
Know Nature’s causes, works, and properties;
What her beginnings, what her endings are;
And soar till Heaven is open to their eyes:
Yet have no steadier aim, no better care,
Stung by thy venom, than, in sordid wise,
To gather treasure: such their single scope,
Their every comfort, and their every hope.
Armies by him are broken in his pride,
And gates of warlike towns in triumph past:
The foremost he to breast the furious tide
Of fearful battle; to retire the last;
Yet cannot save himself from being stied
Till death, in thy dark dungeon prisoned fast.
Of others that would shine thou dimm’st the praise;
Whom other studies, other arts would raise.
What shall of high and beauteous dames be said?
Who (from their lovers’ worth and charms secure)
Against long service, I behold, more staid,
More motionless, than marble shafts, endure:
Then Avarice comes, who so her spells hath laid,
I see them stoop directly to her lure.
—Who could believe?—unloving, in a day
They fall some elder’s, fall some monster’s prey.
Not without reason here I raise this cry:
—Read me who can, I read myself—nor so
I from the beaten pathway tread awry,
Nor thus the matter of my song forego.
Not more to what is shown do I apply
My saying, than to what I have to show.
But now return we to the paladine,
Who was about to taste the enchanted wine.
Fain would he think awhile, of whom I speak,
(As said) ere to his lips the vase he bore;
He thought; then thus: “When finding what we seek
Displeases, this ’tis folly to explore,
My wife’s a woman; every woman’s weak.
Then let me hold the faith I held before.
Faith still has brought, and yet contentment brings.
From proof itself what better profit springs?
“From this small good, much evil I foresee:
For tempting God moves sometimes his disdain.
I know not if it wise or foolish be,
But to know more than needs, I am not fain.
Now put away the enchanted cup from me;
I neither will, nor would, the goblet drain;
Which is with Heaven’s command as much at strife,
As Adam’s deed who robbed the tree of life.
“For as our sire who tasted of that tree,
And God’s own word, by eating, disobeyed,
Fell into sorrow from felicity,
And was by misery evermore o’erlaid;
The husband so, that all would know and see;
Whatever by his wife is done and said;
Passes from happiness to grief and pain,
Nor ever can uplift his head again.”
Meanwhile the good Rinaldo saying so,
And pushing from himself the cup abhorred,
Beheld of tears a plenteous fountain flow
From the full eyes of that fair mansion’s lord;
Who cried, now having somewhat calmed his woe,
“Accursed be he, persuaded by whose word,
Alas! I of the fortune made assay,
Whereby my cherished wife was reft away!
“Wherefore ten years ago wast thou not known,
So that I counselled might have been of thee?
Before the sorrows and the grief begun,
That have nigh quenched my eyes; but raised shall be
The curtain from the scene, that thou upon
My pain mayst look, and mayst lament with me;
And I to thee of mine unheard-of woe
The argument and very head will show.
“Above, was left a neighbouring city, pent
Within a limpid stream that forms a lake;
Which widens, and wherein Po finds a vent.
Their way the waters from Benacus take.
Built was the city, when to ruin went
Walls founded by the Agenorean snake.524
Here me of gentle line my mother bore,
But of small means, in humble home and poor.
“If Fortune’s care I was not, who denied
To me upon my birth a wealthy boon,
Nature that went with graceful form supplied;
So that in beauty rival had I none.
Enamoured of me in youth’s early tide
Erewhile was dame and damsel more than one:
For I with beauty coupled winning ways;
Though it becomes not man himself to praise.
“A sage within our city dwelled, a wight,
Beyond belief, in every science great;
Who, when he closed his eyes on Phoebus’ light,
Numbered one hundred years, one score and eight:
A savage life he led and out of sight,
Until impelled by love, the senior late
By dint of gifts obtained a matron fair,
Who secretly to him a daughter bare;
“And to prevent the child from being won,
As was erewhile the mother, that for gain
Bartered her chastity, whose worth alone
Excels what gold earth’s ample veins contain,
With her he from the ways of man is gone,
And where he spies the loneliest place, his train
Of demons forces, in enchantment skilled,
This dome so spacious, fair, and rich, to build.
“By ancient and chaste dames he there made rear
This daughter, that in sovereign beauty grew;
Nor suffered her to see or even hear
A man beside himself; and, for her view,
—Lest lights should lack, whereby her course to steer—
The senior every modest lady, who
E’er on unlawful love the barrier shut,
Made limn in picture, or in sculpture cut.
“Nor he alone those virtuous dames, who, sage
And chaste, had so adorned antiquity,
Whose fame, preserved by the historic page,
Is never doomed its dying day to see;
But those as well that will in future age
Everywhere beautify fair Italy,
Made
