Orlando furioso in English heroical verse, by Sr Iohn Haringto[n] of Bathe Knight.

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Title
Orlando furioso in English heroical verse, by Sr Iohn Haringto[n] of Bathe Knight.
Author
Ariosto, Lodovico, 1474-1533.
Publication
[Imprinted at London :: By Richard Field, for Iohn Norton and Simon VVaterson,
1607]
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"Orlando furioso in English heroical verse, by Sr Iohn Haringto[n] of Bathe Knight." In the digital collection Early English Books Online. https://name.umdl.umich.edu/A21106.0001.001. University of Michigan Library Digital Collections. Accessed June 9, 2024.

Pages

Page 189

THE XXIIII. BOOKE. (Book 24)

THE ARGVMENT.
The noble Zerbin, pardon doth afford To Odrik and Gabrina, gracelesse payre: A Turke with him fights, for Orlandos sword, He dies, in armes of Isabella faire. Fierce Rodomont with sundrie passions sturd, Doth fight with cruell Agricanes haire, But them in their chief rage their mistres parted, From whence to ayd their Prince they both departed.
1
* 1.1WHo so shall set on Cupids snares his foote, Must seeke to draw backe, least it be caught, And madnes meer, in loue to ouershoot, * 1.2The foole hath felt, the hath euer taught, wise hath euer taught, And though in all alike, it take not root, Yet all shall finde that loue's a thing of naught, For sure,* 1.3it is an open signe of madnes, To haue an others pleasure breed thy sadnes.* 1.4
2
Now though effects proue not in all alike, Yet all are mad in sort, all go astray, * 1.5As in a wildernes where men do seeke, And more and more in seeking loose their way, Wherefore let no man this my wish mislike, In whom fond loue, shall carie long the sway, I wish for due reward, such doting dolts, Like wilfull prisners, store of iron bolts.
3
Some man perhap will say, what soft my frend, You spie our faults, in your owne errors blind; And true it is, yet speake I to this end, To bring vs both into a better mind. As for my selfe I hope er long to mend, And from these bands, in time my selfe vnwind: Though it hath tane in me such root, I prooue it, As hard tis on the sudden to remoue it.
4
I shewd you in the booke that went before, By what mishap Orlando wared mad, And lost not onely care of vertues lore, But reason, wit, and all the sence he had: His armor he disperst, his cloths he tore, The verie cloths, wherewith his corps was clad: And though he wanderd, all vnarmd and naked, Yet at his presence, all the countrie quaked.
5
The countrimen that heard the noise aloof, Of trees, that with their fall, made no small cracke: Came neare, and saw by plaine and open proof, His mōstrous strength, by their so monstrous wracke, And straight they found it best for their behoof, With all the hast they could, to get them backe, For those he caught he did this lesson teach,* 1.6 To keep a loof from out a mad mans reach.
6
Away they fled, but he pursu'd so fast, That some he caught, and some surprisd with feare, Stood still (as oft it happens) all agost, Not knowing how to hide themselues nor wheare: Some other ploughmen seeing what had past, Thought it but little with to tarie theare, But clim'd (for feare) their houses and their churches Not trusting strength, of elmes, of beech, & burches
7
Among the rest he takes one by his heele. And with his head knocks out anothers braine, Which caused both of them such paine to feele, As till dooms day they neuer shall complaine; Another with his fist he made to reele, Till paine it selfe made him past sense of paine, And when the men fled all away affeard, Then with like rage he set vpon their heard.

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8
The voice of men, the bellowings of beast, About the countrie raysd so great a sound, As might haue well bene heard fiue leags at least, And all the people straight were raysed round; Each man prouiding (as he could) the best, And for the present time might then be found, With bows, with bills, with staues, & pikes, & prongs To be reueng'd, on these outragious wrongs.
9
* 1.7Looke how the waues are driu'n by westerne blast, And one and one, do rise still more and more, Vntill their force so great be at the last, They sprinkle all the banks, and beat the shore, So now these countries folke came in so fast, By two, and three, a dozen and a score: Till at the last they grew so great a number, Their verie multitude themselues did cumber.
10
But when they saw their force could do no good, And that his skin so strange protection had, That though they smot thereon they drew no blood They thought, yt they might worse be thought then mad, To fight with one that all them so withstood, Wherefore they parted home dismaid and sad. The madman went vnto the nearest village, Although he cared not for spoile or pillage.
11
And finding no man there, nor small nor great, For all were fled away from thence for aw; As famine forst him, he sought out some meat, And were it fine or course, the first he saw, In greedie sort he doth deuoure and eat, Not caring if it rosted were or raw, And when thus homely he had tane repast, About the countrie bedlemlike he past.
12
He feares both man and beast without regard, He takes swift gotes and fallow Deare in chase, Sometimes a Lion fierce, a bore, a pard, He kils by strength and swiftnes of his pase. At last he came where as a knight did guard, * 1.8The passage of a bridge, and by the place, Had built a towre of no small worke and charge, As shalbe showd hereafter more at large.
13
Now must I tell what hap Zerbino had, Who with faire Isabell togither rode, A long that place where this good Earle fell mad. But by the way, these two made some abode, Where they beheld two men in armor clad, That driue a horse that bare a wofull lode, A knight a prisner to Zerbino knowne, That had beene once a seruant of his owne.
14
* 1.9This prisner Oderik of Biskie hight, In whom the Prince had put so great a trust, He made chiefe choice of him, as of a knight, That of his promise would be firme and iust. But he (fond beast) esteeming small delight, And fruitlesie hope, of his vnbridled lust, Aboue his sacred oth and promist fealtie, Would haue defloured her against all lealtie.
15
Faire Isabell by hap eu'n then was telling, How in the boat she desperatly was saued; And hauing scapt the stormie seas and swelling, How trecherouslie this wretch himselfe behaued, That (had not outlawes thereabout bene dwelling) He would haue forst her, vnto that he craued, And eu'n as these, or some such words she sed, She saw the man she spake of captiue led.
16
Those two that led the wicked O'drik tide, Knew well their Lord when as they came in vew, Both by the Lady, that was by his side, And by the rampant Lyon red of hew, Borne by the Prince, not for a shew of pride, But his as from his predecesors dew, They light, and with a courtsie to the ground, And cap in hand, salute their Lord thus found.
17
Zerbino knew and cald them both by name, Corebo tone, Almonio tother hight, Which two with Isabell from Bayon came, In conduct of that most vnworthy wight. And straight Almonio thus his speech doth frame, My Lord (said he) I shall to you recite, Some little part, of that vnpleasant story, That till this houre, had made my heart full sory.
18
Sith (thankt be God) this Lady here doth liue,* 1.10 Who felt these storms, and therein chiefly smarted, I know that she thereof could notice giue, And hath er this to you the same imparted; I onely shall declare what did me grieue, And what had hapned, since from her I parted, What time by this vile wretches lewd intent, For horse and men to Rochell I was sent.
19
And as I went, so backe I turnd in hast, With men and horse as good as I could get, To seeke them out mine eies about I cast, But yet mine eyes on them I could not set, Their tracke I found, and following that full fast, It brought me to a wood where as I met, My fellow Coreb, panting then and groning, This caitife cursing and himselfe bemoning.
20
He told me how, he fighting in defence, Of Isabella, was so sorely wounded, That from that place he had not sturred sence, And how with bleeding much, he oft had sounded, At which report I tooke so great offence, That in my wits I was welnie confounded. And to reuenge, my heart so sharpe was whet, That Corebs danger quite I did forget.
21
But when in vaine this wretch I long had sought, To Coreb I returned backe againe, Who was so weake, and low by bleeding brought, That scant the life did in his limbs remaine. For which his wofull state, I tooke great thought, As one that deemd it fitter to ordaine, Some Priests and Friers, buriall to procure him, Then Surgeons or Phisitions that might cure him.

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22
Yet him vnto the towne at last I caried, Where, by such helpe our friendly host procured, It pleased God, Corebo not miscaried, But of his grieuous hurts was soundly cured; Which done, no longer in those parts we taried, But being there by sundry men assured, That Odrick in Alfonsos court was biding, We thither went to heare of him some tiding.
23
And there I challengd Odrick face to face, * 1.11And by the noble iustice of the King, And chiefly (as I deeme) by Gods great grace, That onely rules and gouernes eu'ry thing, I tooke him prisner in the present place, From whence aliue I did him hither bring, For why that king that heard his great offence, Did graunt vs libertie to bring him thence.
24
I might haue staine him, as he well deserued, But yet I chused rather of the twaine, Vnto your doome to haue his life reserued, That you might point him death with worthy paine, And much I ioy that lucke so well hath serued, That we so safe haue found your grace againe, And much more I reioyce, if much more may be, At health and welfare of this noble Ladie.
25
Thus much Almonio said, and then did cease, Expecting what Zerbino would reply, Who all the while stood still and held his peace, And viewd the prisner with an heedfull eye, And much it did his griefe of mind increase, To think a friend could stray so farre awry. Then sighing deepe; what Odrick is this true, Wherewith (quoth he) Almonio chargeth you?
26
* 1.12The caitiue, humbly prostrate on the ground, Forgiue my Lord (said he) your seruants crime, * 1.13What wight on earth can voyd of fault be found? What Saint is such as doth not sinne sometime? Tweene good and bad this difference sole is found, That good men sin but seeld, and mend betime, * 1.14The bad man (making scruple none nor question) Yeelds wilfully to eu'ry leud suggestion.
27
If you to me some fortresse had committed, * 1.15And I the same had wittingly betraid, I graunt such fault were not to be remitted, But if I had with force bene ouerlaid, Then sure I am my case would haue bene pittyd, At least no sinne should to my charge be laid, * 1.16For when the enemy is once the stronger, Tis vaine to make resistance any longer.
28
Eu'n so my Lord, my faith I ought to guard, No other then a fortresse or a hold, Put in my charge with carefull watch and ward, As long as strength will serue me it to hold: And so I kept my faith with due regard, Nor was I any way to be controld, Vntill at last I was so strong assailed, That faith gaue place, and fancie then preuailed.
29
Thus Odricke said, and what he said beside, I doubt it somewhat tedious were to tell, As namely, none so great assault could bide, That loue all other passions doth excell, But sure if it were euer plainly tride, That humble speech doth often wrath expell; Now Odricke found of lowly words the fruit, That holp him to obtaine so hard a suit.
30
Zerbino stood a while in mind confused, To punish or to pardon his offence, Sometime his thoughts all clemencie refused, Sometime the loue and seruice done long since, Asswagd his wrath, and rothers fault excused, And mou'd him with his folly to dispence: And still as rage did kindle fire of wrath,* 1.17 To quench it mercie store of water hath.
31
Now while in this same doubt Zerbino staid, Behold by hap Gabrina there was brought, She that of late had this good Prince betraid, And had to him so great a danger wrought; Her horse that heard where other horses naid, Came to the noise, as nature had them taught, Against her will, she wanting force to sway him, And hauing lost the raines, wherewith to stay him.
32
The beastly wretch cride helpe, and out alas, While thus her horse ran ouer fields and lands, But when the Scottish Prince saw who she was, And how she thither came he vnderstands, He gaue God thanks that so had brought to passe, To giue those two at once into his hands, Which two, for their misdeeds aboue the rest, He had great cause to malice and detest.
33
And after he had made a little pause, Vnto his seruants turning thus he said, Sirs, Odricke shall not die, although by lawes His fact deserues no lesse vprigtly waid, For sith he faith affection was the cause, Content I am, on loue the fault be laid, The sinne to which a man by loue is driuen,* 1.18 So much the rather ought to be forgiuen.
34
The force of strong affection hath ere this Distemperd, yea and sometime ouerthrowne A wiser and a staider head then his, As is to me by mine experience knowne, And that here in he did his dutie misse, I must confesse, the fault was part mine owne, That gaue to him such charge, and did not know How quickly flaming heate can kindle tow.* 1.19
35
Then to the caitiue Odricke thus he spake, Here I forgiue thee, and do thee enlarge, But yet the penance I will haue thee take,* 1.20 Is this, to take this woman in thy charge, And sweare to me thou shalt her not forsake, For one whole yeare, but this thine oth discharge, And that thou shalt if any would offend her, Do thy deuoir, and vnto death defend her.

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36
This was the punishment on him he layd, And certainly this same had bene cnow, If so the circumstance were duly wayd, And Odericke had right performd his vow. For why so many men she had betrayd, And done such sinnes euen from her youth till now, That whereoere they had together traueld, In her defence he must at last be graueld.
37
Thus Zerbin let this wicked couple go, And thinks sufficiently to plague them both, But sweares if euer he did hap to know, That he therein should violate his troth, His flesh should serue as feeding for the crow, A fit reward for such as breake their oth. Thus went this honest couple thence together, Lurking in corners, wandring here and thether.
38
But what in th'end of these same two became, I know not, and mine author doth not write, I onely heard a speech, or flying fame, That when they once were quite from Zerbius fight, Odricke (to shun the quarrels and the shame, * 1.21That by her companie on him might light) Did hang her vp, and after in short space, Almonio made him runne the selfe same race.
39
The Prince that faine some tidings would haue heard Of that Earle Palladine, who tother day, Fought hand to hand with lostie Mandricard, Vntill his rainlesse horse bare him away, Doth trauell on his way to Paris ward, Though faire and soft, and lingring by the way, And his two seruants he doth send before, And kept with him his Ladie and no more.
40
They rode not farre but that they found the caue, And that same pleasant arbor and the spring, At which Medoro vsd such sport to haue, With that faire daughter of the Indian king; Where she their names together did ingraue, All tide with true loue knots (a wondrous thing) They looke, and see the stones, the words and letters All cut and mangled in a thousand fitters.
41
And as they musd hereon, they might espie Orlandos armor and his famous blade, Hight Durindana on the ground to lie, * 1.22That sword that first for Hector had bin made, They saw where Brigliador was feeding by Vpon the grasse amid the pleasant shade: This sight did make them both exceeding sad, Yet little did they deeme that th'Earle was mad.
42
Had they but seene one little drop of blood, They would haue surely thought he had bin staine, But while in this most carefull doubt they stood, Behold there came a country silly swaine, That with no little speed ran through the wood, And scapt the mad mans fury with great paine; He told them how a man bestraught of sences, Had done these outrages and great offences.
43
And further gaue them perfect information, And told each circumstance at their request: Zerbino standeth still in admiration, And as the manner is, himselfe he blest, And with great griefe of mind and lamentation, He takes the sword and armor, and the rest, And Isabella helpeth them to gather, And so they lay them on a heape together.
44
This while by hap came by faire Fiordeliege,* 1.23 Who (as I told before) with pensiue hart, Went to seeke out her loued Lord and Liege, I meane Orlandos friend, King Brandimart, Who leauing Paris in the wofull siege, To seeke Orlando did from thence depart, Till Atlant to that cage him did intice, Which he had fram'd by magicall deuice.
45
The which inchantment being now defeated,* 1.24 By good Astolfos value and his skill, And all the knights as I before repeated, At libertie to go which way they will, King Brandimart, though much in mind he freated, To thinke how long in vaine he had stood still, Backe vnto Paris ward his course he turned, Yet missing her, the way that he returned.
46
Thus (as I said) faire Fiordeliege by chance, Saw much of that which hapt, and heard the rest, How that same worthy Palladine of France, With inward giefe of mind and thought opprest, Or by some other great and strange mischance, Went like a man with some ill sprite possess, And she likewise enquiring of the peasant, Heard all the circumstance, a tale vnpleasant.
47
Zerbino being farre from any towne, Hangs all Orlandos armor on a Pine, Like to a* 1.25 Penon, and lest any clowne Or peasant vile should take a thing so fine, He writes vpon the tree, Let none take downe This armour of Orlando Palladine; As who should say, if any man attempt it, Orlando would ere long cause him repent it.
48
And hauing brought this worthy worke to end, And ready now to take his iourney hence, Fierce Mandricard hapt thither to descend,* 1.26 And when he saw the tree, he askt of whence Those weapons were? which knowne, he doth intend To take away good Durindana thence, He steps vnto the tree and takes the sword, Nor so content, he adds this spitefull word.
49
Ah fir (quoth he) this hap doth make me glad, My claime vnto this sword is not vnknowne, And though before I no possession had, Yet now I lawfully seize on mine owne: Alas poore foolo, and doth he faine him mad? And hath away his sword and armor throwne, Because he was not able to maintaine it, And was afeard that I by force would gaine it?

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50
Zerbino crieth out, what? peace for shame, Take not his sword, or thinke not I will beare it, If by the coate of Hector so you came, You stale it, and vnworthy are to weare it: Tush (quoth the Pagan) I will beare that blame, As for your threatning, do not thinke I feare it: Thus tones sharpe answers, tothers sharpe replying, Made them to fall to termes of flat defying.
51
* 1.27And either shewing signes of plaine hostilitie, Prepares the tother fiercely to inuade, Zerbino with his skill and great agilitie, His partie good against the Pagan made, And voided all the blowes with much facilitie, Though hauing great disuantage in the blade, And in that armor massie so and strong, That in times past to Hector did belong.
52
Looke how a Grewnd that finds a sturdie Bore, Amid the field far straying from the heard, Doth runne about, behind him and before, Because of his sharpe tusks he is afeard: So Zerbin that had seene oft heretofore That blade, and of the force thereof had heard, With heedfull eye to shun the blowes he watched, Because he was in weapons ouermatched.
53
Thus warily this worthy Prince did fight, And though by heedfull skill he scaped oft The furious bloes of this Tartarian knight, Yet lo, at last one blow came from aloft, And Durindan so heauie did alight, As pierced through the hard vnto the soft, A finger deepe, and went in length a span, Downe from the place where first the wound began.
54
The Prince so earnest was, he felt no smart, Yet ran the blood out of the brest amaine, And of his curats all the former part With crimson streame of blood it did distaine: * 1.28So haue I seene her hand that to mine hart Hath bene a cause of anguish and much paine, When she a purple seame or flowre hath drawne, In siluer kirtle, or in sleeue of lawne.
55
The wound was great, but yet did greater show, Which fight faire Isabella much amated, The Prince that seemed not the same to know, With force increased rather then abated, Vpon the Pagans brow gaue such a blow, As would no doubt haue made him checkt & mated Saue that (as I to you before rehearst) His armor was not easie to be pearst.
56
The blow was such as caused him to reele, And on his stirrops staggringly he stood, Had not his armor bene of passing steele, The blow would sure haue entred to the blood, The grieuous paine that he thereof did feele, Did put him in so fierce a raging mood, So that for all Zerbinos skill and sleight, He wounded him in places seu'n or eight.
57
Which when his louing Isabella saw, She went to Doralice, and her doth pray, The fury of her husband to withdraw, And ioyne with her to part the bloody fray, Who both because she was in feare and aw, Lest yet the Prince her spouse indanger may, And for of nature kind she was and meeke, Of that good motion she doth not mislike.
58
Thus those two Ladies this fierce battell parted, In which the prince receiued many a wound, Though being (as he was) most valiant harted, He neuer gaue the Pagan inch of ground: From thence each couple presented departed, Fierce Mandricard to pagan campe was bound,* 1.29 To Paris ward the Prince, but driu'n to stay, By reason of his bleeding by the way.
59
Dame Fiordeliege that stood this while aloofe, And saw how Mandricard preuailed had, And how the Prince had fought with euill proofe, Departed thence all sorrowfull and sad, Reuiling Mandricard with iust reproofe, That of this euill gotten sword was glad, And wished that her husband Brandimart, Had present bin to take Zerbinos part.
60
But as she traueld homeward to the campe, She saw the noble Palladine of France, Not like himselfe, but of another stampe, Besmeard and nakt as antiks wont to dance: Quite was extinguished the shining lampe, Of vertue bright that did his name aduance:* 1.30 This fight in Fiodeliege much sorrow bred, But tell me now how good Zerbino sped.
61
Who on his way with painfull steps proceeding, With Isabella onely and no more, His former taken hurts still freshly bleeding, Which now with cold were stiffe and waxed sore, And yet this griefe in him the rest exceeding, To thinke that sword of which I spake before, Should mauger him, be by a Turke poslest. I say this grieu'd him more then all the rest.
62
Now gan the dreadfull pangs of death assaile him, So great a streame of blood his wound had draind, His eyes were dim, his speech began to faile him, Strong hart to yeeld to weake limbs was constraind: What can poore Isabella do but waile him? She blam'd the heau'ns and fates that had ordaind Her to escape such dangers and such harmes, And now to haue her deare die in her armes.
63
Zerbino though he seant could draw his breath, Yet hearing her lamenting in such fashion, Doth ope his closed lips, and thus he seath, Both shewing then, and mouing much compassion: So might I (my deare loue) eu'n after death, Be deare to thee as I do feele great passion, To think when as my death frō hence shall reaue me, Alone in wo and danger I shall leaue thee.

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Might I haue left thee in some safer place, I should esteeme my death a blessed hap, And that the hean'ns had giu'n me speciall grace, To end my life in thy beloued lap, Now greiues it me to thinke of thine hard case, In what a world of woes I thee shall wrap, When I must die, and leaue thee here alone, And none to helpe thy harme or heare thy mone.
65
To this the wofull Isabell replies, With watred eyes, and heart surprisd with anguish, Her face to his, and ioyning her faire eyes To his that like a witherd rose did languish, No thought (said she) my deare in thee arise For me, for know I neither do, nor can with Thee to suruiue, I will be thine for euer, Life could not, and death shall not vs disseuer.
66
* 1.31No sooner shall thy breath thy brest forsake, But I will follow thee I care not whither, Griefe or this sword of me an end shall make, And if some stranger after shall come hither, I hope of vs such pittie he will take, To lay our bodies in one 'graue togither: This said, about his necke her armes she clasped, And drawes the fainting breath that oft he gasped.
67
The Prince inforcing his forefeebled voyce, Said thus, I thee coniure my sole delight, By that deare loue that made me first thy choyce, And thee from natiue soyle to take thy flight, If euer in my loue thou didst reioyce, If to commaund thee I haue any right, That thou still liue (as long as God shall graunt thee) And not despaire how euer fortune daunt thee.
68
Th'almightie God, from danger and from ill, Hath hitherto, and will (I trust) thee saue; Eu'n as he sent that noble Earle to kill Those caitiues that did keepe thee in their caue, And fau'd thee from the Biskins wicked will, First hauing thee preseru'd from salt sea waue, Liue then my deare, and trust in him aboue, And while you liue be mindfull of my loue.
69
These latter words his lips had scantly past, When death vnto his heart was softly crept; * 1.32And as the lampe go'th out when oyle doth wast, So quietly the noble Zerbin slept: What tongue can tell how sore she was agast, How she lamented, wailed, mournd and wept, To her owne eyes and faire haire doing force, When as she saw her deare a senslesse corse?
70
And griefe had set her in so great a rage, With Zerbins sword she thinks an end to make Of her owne life, her sorrow to asswage, Neglecting those last words Zerbino spake, But lo, a certaine saintlike personage, That sword from hand, that thought from hart doth take, A certaine godly hermit and deuout, That was by hap abiding thereabout,
71
Who came and said, oh damsell leaue despaire, Mans nature weake, and womens sex is fraile, Feare him that rules both heau'n, and earth, and aire, Who saith the word, and his word cannot faile, That those that vnto him for helpe repaire, And put their trust in him, shall neuer quaile: Then shewd he her, to proue his saying true, Examples out of Scriptures old and new.
72
Of saintlike women that in time of old,* 1.33 Their liues and prayre in chastitie had spent; And further to the damsell faire he told, And prou'd and shewd by reasons euident, That worldly things are vaine and haue no hold, Alone in God is ioy and true content: In fine, he makes to her this godly motion, Her future life to spend in true deuotion.
73
His godly speech by helpe of heau'nly grace, Pourd in her heart by hie diuine infusion, Wrought such effect, and found so great a place, She ceast to seeke or worke her owne confusion, But leauing the profession of her race, Profest her selfe a Christen in conclusion; She gaue her selfe to prayre and pure diuinitie,* 1.34 And vowd to God her life and her virginitie.
74
Yet did she not remoue out of her thought, The feruent loue Zerbino had her borne, But by the hermits helpe the corse she brought, And thinks it sin to leaue it so forlorne, And in some village thereabout she bought Sweet balmes to fill the flesh all cut and torne, Then in a Cypres coffin she doth close it, Not being yet resolu'd where to dispose it.
75
That aged fire, though being wise and staid, Yet would not trust in his owne stay so well, To carry such a faire and goodly maid To soiourne with him in his little cell, Twere perill great (thus to himselfe he said) That fire and straw should nie together dwell, Wherefore he meanes to Prouince her to carie, And there to place her in a monestarie.
76
But as he thitherward with Isbell went,* 1.35 And by the way deuoutly did her teach, All things vnto religion pertinent, And of the same most learnedly did preach, Behold a Pagan fierce with soule intent, This purpose and their iourney doth impeach, As I shall shew more largely afterward: Now back I must returne to Mandricard.
77
Who hauing ended that same cruell fight, In which the worthist Prince aliue was slaine, Soone after by a shadie banke did light, And turnd his horse a grazing on the plaine, Dame Doralice in whom he tooke delight, Alone with him in that place did remaine, When looking sodainly by chance aside, An armed knight come toward them she spide.

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She guest, but yet she knew not by the view, Who it might be, vntill she spide her page, That came with him, then certainly she knew, Twas Rodomont, full of reuenge and rage, Wherefore vnto her knight she nearer drew, And said (my Lord) mine honour I dare gage, That yon is Rodomont mine ancient louer, Who thinks by fight from you me to recouer.
79
Looke how the Falcon in the aire doth mount, When she espies a Bittor or a Herne, So when this Prince espied Rodomount, And by his hast his furie did discerne, Like one that made of conquest full account, He starteth vp with visage grim and sterne: Straight armd, and horst he is, his foe to meete, In hand the raynes, in sterops are his feete.
80
When as the tone the tother came so neare, As each might harken what the tother sed, Fierce Rodomont spake lowd as he might heare, With threatning gesture, both of hand and hed: And sayd, be sure Ile make thee buy it deare, That with a short vaine pleasure hast bene led, To do to one so foule and open wrong, That can and will it wreake on thee er long.
81
The Tartar Prince that for him little cared, Made answer thus, in vaine you me do threat, Poore boyes with words, or women may be scared, Not I that fight as willingly as eat, Proue when you please I am not vnprepared, At any time for any warlike feat, On horse, on foote, in field, or in the list, I shalbe readie, trie me when you list.
82
Thus words bred wrath, and wrath engendred blowes, And blowes encreast their sharpe auenging will, Eu'n as the wind that first but calmely blowes, But after more and more increasing still, At last it trees and houses ouerthrowes, And seas and lands with tempest it doth fill: So cruell grew the fight them two betweene, Whose match might hardly in the world be seene.
83
Their hearts were stout, so were their bodies strong, Desire to win, in both a like was great, One doth maintain, tother would venge his wrong, And loue their furie equally doth whet, In equall paise the fight endured long, Nor each of tother any gaine could get, But each of them so firmely kept his ground, As if each inch thereof had cost a pound.
84
Among an hundred blowes the Tartar smit, Of which small hurt to Rodomont did rise, Yet one at last so heauily did hit, Vpon his helmet, ouer both his eyes; * 1.36His senses all were so amazd with it; He thought he saw more starres then are in skies, And almost downe he was eu'n in her fight, For whom he first began this cruell fight.
85
But as a strong and iustly temperd bow,* 1.37 Of Pymount steele, the more you do it bend, Vpon recoile doth giue the bigger blow, And doth with greater force the quarrell send, Eu'n so the Sarzan king that stoupt so low, As highly to reuenge it doth intend, And to acquite himselfe of this disgrace, He striketh at the Tartar Princes face.
86
So fierce he strake, in this so furious mood, An inch or little more aboue his fight, That saue those armes of Hector were so good,* 1.38 No doubt that blow had finisht all the fight, But so astond therewith the Tartar stood, He could not tell if it were noone or night: And while in this amazment he abode, The tother ceaseth not to lay on lode.
87
The Tartars horse that saw the glittering blade, That Rodomont about his head so tost, Did start aside, and with a turne he made, Rescude his master, sore to his owne cost, Downe with the blow fals this vnluckie iade, And with his starting he his life hath lost: To ward his head he wanted Hectors shield, And therefore dead he tumbleth on the field.
88
Now came his master to himselfe againe, Inflamd with greater anger then before, To see his horse so pitifully slaine, But Rodomont forbeares him neare the more. But spurrs on him, and thinks with furie maine, To beare him downe, but he so strongly bore The push, and thrust withall Frontino backe, He made his master glad to leaue his backe.
89
Thus now with minds more aliend from all peace, In eager sort the combat is renewed, To strike, to thrust each other doth not cease, In hope with blood their swords to haue embrewed Fell rancor wrath and pride do still increase, And death of one or both must haue ensewed, Er either of them would from thence haue started, Had not a certaine messenger them parted.
90
One that had traueld all about the cost, To seeke them out, to aske their helpe and aid, To raise the siege, that by the Christen host, Vnto the campe of Agramant was laid: Yet though he came in peace, and cake in post, To speake to them at first he was affraid, And though his office were sufficient warrant, Yet to themselues he dares not do his arrant.
91
But seeing Doralice, to her he told, How Agramant, Marsilio, Stordylan, And others more, like men pent vp in hold, Were in great danger to be kild or tane, Wherefore he wisheth her for to vnfold, Thus much to them, that sought each others bane: And to perswade them to so good accord, As they might go to helpe their soueraigne Lord.

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She that a woman was of passing sprite, And knew that neither of them would offend her, Stept them between, and chargd them stay the fight, As they their honour and her loue did tender, And helpe their king, that is in wofull plight, And end this fray begun of cause so slender, At least defer so long to trie this quarrell, Till Agramant their king were out of perrell.
93
When she thus much to them declared had, Then doth the messenger declare the rest, And other strong perswasions he doth ad, And doth expound to them their kings request, Alledging that their absence made him sad, That but they helpe, the campe would be distrest, And that if they to rescue him neglected, A present ruine were to be expected.
94
With his report and with her strong perswasion, The hardie knights the combat do defar, Till Agramant be freed from this inuasion, And all the Christen forces moued ar, Thus of this friendly truce she is occasion, That first was causer of their deadly war; To her they binde themselues by solemne oth, That vntill then, they will be quiet both.
95
There Discord was and Pride, and what they may, They do this league to interrupt and breake, But at that time, Loue bare so great a sway, That to withstand him, they were both to weake: In vaine it was to argue and gainsay, When once dame Doralice the word did speake, By her perswasion, firmely they agreed. Like friends vpon their iourney to proceed.
96
One onely want there was, that let them sore, Which was that Mandricardos horse was ded, But loe eu'n then, came thither Brygliadore, That since his masters madnes there had fed, Full glad the Prince of Tartar was therefore, Of such a horse, so quickly to be sped: But least my tale with tediousnes molest you, I wish you lay aside the booke and rest you.

* 1.39In the great offence of Oderike, and the notable clemencie of Zerbino in pardoning the same, we may note in the one the great frailtie of men in offending (specially in this kinde of fleshly concupiscene,) in the other a notable magnanimi∣tie as well as mercie in forgiuing him: For that (indeed) is true clemencie in a Prince, to forgiue that offence that is com∣mitted against his priuat (as they call it) that is, against his owne person, rather then that, which is done against the law, for that is rather parcialitie and iniustice, then clemencie. Secondly we may obserue both in Zerbino and Isabella, a notable example of gratitude toward Orlando, first in gathering his dispersed armour, next in that Zerbino fought with Mandricardo in defence of Orlandos sword, in which conflict he receives his deaths wound, and though indeed, all that is told of this couple, tendeth to a tragicall end, yet is it withall set downe by my author in a sort, to moue so great compassion, that it seemes all that read it are as it were in loue with them, and lament their so vnfortunate end; which hath made me say sometimes (in sport) to some of mine honorable frends, that if I could without wronging mine author, I would surely have saned their liues, or giuen them a more fortunate end: though (to say true) sith an end is of necessi∣tie due to all mankind, what more honorable death can a Prince have, then by a wound in fight, specially for a good quarrell? what more sweet death, then in her beloued armes whom he was bethrothed to, and intended to marrie? what more happie reward, then same and loue in this world, and heaven in the next? Further though Isabella were after slain by Rodomont in h•••• drunkennues, as is noted in the xxix. booke, yet that notable title that is there given her (the mar∣tir of chastitie) makes her so famous, and her vertue so admirable, as she could never have wisht a better end if she had lived as long as Hecuba. Wherefore if it be true that Ouid said of Cadmus,

—Scilicet vltima semper, Expect and a dies homini, dicique beatus Anteobitum nemo, supremaque funera debet. In English thus, Our onely dying day, and end doth show If that a man haue happie beene or no.
Then (I say) by the death of these two, though in shew vnfortunate yet in deed most glorious, they may be called happie. Lastly, for the end of this morall, we may take one speciall obseruation of great integritie in the religious man, that con∣verted her to the faith, and yet afterward would not trust himselfe alone with her; for in the fleshly conflicts and temp∣tations, the onely way to conquer, is to play the coward and runne away, and thus much for the morall.

* 1.40The examples of the vertuous women that are praised by the hermit (though not named) in the 72. Staffe of this booke, are many, recited in the Scripture it selfe: as namely the blessed virgin Marie, Anne, and Magdalen, all which be tooke themselues most deuoutly to the seruice of God, and therefore are worthy to be canonized for examples of chasti∣tie and zeale of religion.

* 1.41In the sodaine parting of the fray betweene the two famous riuals, onely vpon the commandement of Doralice, with whom they were both exceedingly in loue, thus allegorically is supposed to be meant that the strongest passions that are, as anger, and revenge, or what else soeuer, are often ouermastered with loue.

* 1.42The speech of Isabella to Zerbino, wishing to die at the same instant with him, alludes to the wish of good Baweis and Philemon.

—Quomam concordes egimus annos, Auferat hor a duos eadem, nec coniugis vnquam, Busta meae videam nee sim tumulandus ab illa.
Here end the notes of the xxiiij. booke.

Notes

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